No volcano trip today

I woke up at 3ish because of these persistent night sweats, damn them, already. I finally got back to sleep around 5:30AM, and then Emery texted and woke me up at 8AM, just as a dream I was having had promise of getting somewhere. I won't damn her, though. You just can't go about damning your friends because you were too dumb to turn down your own ringer.

I was in an elevator, headed for the eighth floor of a motel on the outskirts of a town located somewhere near a volcano. I was with my nephew-in-law, Dylan and Tommy Lee Jones. I'm not certain about that last one, but since I was sleeping with The Sunset Limited playing in the background, it was either him or Samuel L. Jackson, and I am pretty certain it wasn't the latter. 

Me and craggy faced, hang-dog depressed Tommy Lee were just in the restaurant below the hotel, and I was trying to persuade him that we had to go on an adventure. He wasn't too thrilled about it, but then, he was never thrilled about much of anything. Dylan provided the spark, since, you know, kids...

As we made our way through the restaurant we got some stares from the diners. I don't know what their problem was, but we played it cool. I overheard one of the more forward gossipy ladies making a comment about us to the rest of her little group:

"They must be secret agents or something. Look at the way their cheap glasses reflect. When they turn their heads to look around, you can't see who they are looking at. Very professional. Well done boys."

I did a slow turn, acknowledging her statement, and in the process I got a good look at her. She was a mid 30's mom type, a little heavyset, brunette with long straight hair. She was ensconced in her chair at the table, and very confident, as the spokesperson of the group. 

My little cranial pivot gave them all a thrill, and there was a tittering of applause and murmurs of approval, as if I'd just performed a magic trick.

"And on that note," I said, "I will perform my vanishing act," as I thrust my arm between the closing elevator doors and hopped past the threshold.

I got lucky, and the elevator was actually still there. It hadn't departed and left me stepping into a dark chasm, as elevators are known to do in dreams. I checked first, because believe me, you can't be too careful with these things.

My two companions had taken the adjacent elevator, and it dawned on me that poor old Tommy Lee was going to be completely at a loss as to which floor we were headed. No, worries, I thought, he had Dylan with him, and Dylan was an old hand at these adventures. Dylan knew exactly where we were going.

Where we were going was to the volcano. Dylan rode dirtbikes there, and he was familiar with the layout. I'd been there before in my car, and I'd had a devil of a time with the treacherous mountain roads. It was a deathtrap of washed out switchbacks and thousand foot dropoffs. The bottom of the volcano was full of a slimy gravel soup, a mixture of rainwater, dirt and roadbase. The last time I was there, I'd barely made it out.

I was kind of excited to be revisiting this area, excited and nervous, since there was always the threat of imminent death. Plus, I was experiencing deja vu in a dream, and that can sometimes be a precursor to lucid dreaming, of which I am a huge fan. I'm a huge fan of anything more exciting than my normal day to day life, though, so even a dream about school or work rates above that.

Anyway, I don't recall too many more details, but I will spend a little time searching my archives to see if I can find the blog entry which corresponds with the previous dream. I'll provide a link if possible, but if not, I'll just have to set my intentions before bed, and maybe I can plan my next trip a little better.