Me, Tuffy P and Emily Carr

...had to save the world from killer aliens from a bad planet. And to do it, Emily hatched a plan for me and Tuffy P to blow up an art museum that had been infiltrated by aliens. These aliens were really nasty and had taken over most of the major centres. However, we were part of an underground helping people escape to unoccupied areas and at the same time attacking alien positions. Through much of the dream, we were moving around through tunnels underneath office buildings after successfully blasting the art museum. That's all the detail I remember.

film

this is the tail-end of a dream.
i am in a shop. i am with an old friend (someone in real-life i have not seen in something like 7 years and not spoken too much in that time). she is talking the sales person, who looks like he might be a plastic person, but he is not quite, his very smooth skin is just a shade wrong, his hair is almost quiff like, with black rimmed glasses. i am not sure what they are talking about. she is giving him the "oh-i-am-a-girl-i-can't-do-that" look and seems to be getting her way with him.
i am standing down the counter to her right.
i am fiddling with something on the counter.
the sales person seems to be irritated with me doing that.
i move something. in doing that a load of film spools drop to the floor.
i am trying to pick them up without looking too much like an idiot.
one roll of film is under my bare foot. it takes me a while to realise it is there.
by the time i have gotten it from under my foot i can see that several of the frames on the film have changed colour from where my foot has stood on it.
this is shown in big close up.

end of dream.

homes

it seems when i dream i dream of homes. oh ok i am sure i do dream of other things but the few small fleeting pieces i tend to remember are the ones where something happens in a house.
in this one i have a place in a rather large ornate building.
something has happened to get all the residents together. we are milling around, talking, discussing. it is late summer’s evening and night is drawing in.
whatever it was that has gotten us all up has been resolved and people are returning to their flats in the gothic bauhaus it could have been a school-church-hospital building we are living in.
i am the last to leave. i am just standing in the garden looking up the street. it is long, wide and empty, not a soul about. at the top is a building that could be hawksmoor’s christchurch. behind it is the last of the dying sun, above it is a halo of dark night and vicious clouds. a perfect photo i think. better get the camera and tripod.
but realising i have forgotten my key i decide to not disturb anyone by climbing the outside of the building to get to my flat.
as i climb up the christchurch look-a-like is replaced by something with a dome.
i