February 7th, 1999 - So, in my last dream for the evening I was at the airport, had the right ticket, and this time I got on the right plane, going to London, on time. Very strange airport, the dream spent a lot of time in it, I had a small romance there and was pole dancing later as well. The plane was even stranger, it was a windowed room, really, that could fly, with stewardesses and the pilot. I had to ask the stewardess, just to be totally sure, that this was the flight to London. She said it was. When the plane took off it flew straight towards the center of a looming setting sun. At least I’m on the flight now.