When I woke the first time, (when the Troll's alarm went off), I had been dreaming of being attacked by swarms of this insect that was a cross between a fire-ant and a bee. They looked like huge flying ants (huge compared to regular ants, not horror-film huge). I was younger in the dream...going to college...and the things apparently had a nest on campus. Somehow someone had noticed these huge things streaming in and out of an old tree, and got the brilliant idea to try to break up the tree. Swarms and swarms were chasing people around campus, and I kept getting bitten by these things, which HURT.
The second dream (from waking up just now) was far more sinister. Troll and I were hanging out with a number of well-known and celebrityish folk, including Cory Doctorow, Oliver Platt (who, disturbingly, kept morphing into James Gandolfini...I hate that about dreams), Ellen Degeneres & Torsion. We were talking to Cory & Oliver/James about the new money (which is coming out this fall) and how the government was planning to implant each bill with an RFID-like chip that would identify each bill by serial number. It was, of course, a special new chip that they were calling the glass chip (it wasn't made of glass, obviously, that was just it's name.) that was teeny & flexible. It was intended to broadcast it's whereabouts whenever it neared a check-point, which were hidden and the positions undisclosed by the gov't. Cory had been telling us how the government had just railroaded the money-chipping into being, despite enormous public outcry and political activism (much of which he led).
The hanging out was happening in a closed, owned by one of the attendees bar that was in a mall or some sort of shopping center. Somewhere along the line, someone brought out some super-drugs of some sort, that many folks indulged in (Troll & I, being the way we are, did not). So the conversation just got weirder & weirder, because the some of the drugs were causing a sort of stroke-like face melting in the folks who had taken them (including Cory & Oliver/James)...which was incredibly disconcerting. Oddly enough, they were still able to speak clearly. I had just gone over to Troll (who was a few feet away, talking to someone else) and let him know I was ready to leave (as I was getting increasingly uncomfortable about the drug-use and the possibility of a bust), when Oliver/James' (who was acting as bartender) boss arrived. The boss was this large bald guy (who kinda looked like Night Court's Richard Moll, but much more serious & scary), and wanted to talk to Oliver/James. I carried the message from the front area of the bar, where the boss was sitting on a couch waiting, to the back area where Oliver/James was tending bar. That's when I woke up.
I've been remembering very intense, detailed dreams for about the past week. It's a phase I go through periodicallly...and it often preceeds a bout with the dreaded insomnia monster. Bah.