A group of us are studying at the end of a trail up a tall mountain. I end up the last one studying at the waist-high workbenches. Once the instructor/monitor (my 10th grade English teacher Ms. Roos?) brings this to my attention, I leave and say hi to Sherilyn sitting in a small cubby-like room off to the side of the exit, wearing fishnets, perhaps working as a librarian.
Shortly thereafter I’m asked to get something off a high shelf — on the trail — and I’m “caught” by my landlord, who has a ponytail. No clue why he’d be upset by that, but that sounds like him.
Even further down, there’s a very steep, conical icy slope. As I slide down the crunchy snow, I relate to someone the posted warnings I saw about “Karen”, a trans lady in our [dreamt] social group who perpetrated some property destruction before she got it together and become trans.
I notice my facial hair in a mirror. The left side of my face is shaved into a goatee and sideburns, while the right is still a beard. And looking up, my hair has a wide ¼ off-center stripe shaved out to match, with my long hair hanging over on either side. It looks pretty stylish, but I think I couldn’t pull it off in real life on account of short side hairs.