Dream of: 19 May 2005 "A Splendid View"

My wife Carolina and I were living in a big new house. I had sat down at the computer in my office to work on my dreams. I had intended to work on the dreams all day, but instead, I stood up and walked into the kitchen, where Carolina was filling up a glass container with water. She let the water run too long, and it overflowed onto the floor onto the vinyl kitchen tiles, and flowed toward the reddish ceramic tiles in the neighboring room. I told her she would have to dry the water from the vinyl tiles or they would be ruined.

When other people began showing up, I walked into the adjoining room. Carolina followed me. She was only wearing a flowery top and her bushy black pubic hair sparked my attention. I approached her, placed my hand between her legs, and told her I wanted to "fuck" her. When I looked at her face, however, I was startled, because the woman wasn't Carolina -- she was an attractive Hispanic (20-25 years old) woman. She didn't pull away from me. Carolina (I now saw) was sitting on a couch in the next room.

The woman finally walked away from me. She seemed unconcerned. When I followed her, she turned around and faced me. She was now wearing pants. She saw that I was disappointed because I couldn't relish her pubic area any more, and in response, she pulled up her top to display two pubic areas of black hair on her chest and stomach. It was grotesque. I stepped back.

I felt confused. The woman had seemed so attractive just a few moments ago, and now I was grossed out. I felt I had missed out on a chance which I couldn't recapture.

I walked into the next room to Carolina and told her what had just happened. Carolina seemed shocked, but not angry. She told me the woman's name was "Robin Hatsfield."

Other people began showing up. A man who resembled my uncle Liston Jr. walked in and I said, "What's happening?", but he didn't respond.

I realized I wasn't wearing any pants. I looked around for a pair of blue jeans, found them and put them on. Then I walked outside, where perhaps 20-25 people (mostly Hispanic) were mingling in the spacious yard. Children were running and playing.

The house was on a high hill with a splendid view. My father also had a new house on this same hill, farther down the road. He and I hardly ever talked and we didn't visit each other. I thought how he would probably be surprised to see so many people and children visiting my house. I generally didn't care for such social gatherings, although he did. Having these people visit me, while my father probably sat alone in his home with nobody visiting him, seemed ironic.

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