Morning of April 20, 2014. Sunday.
This dream is fairly long but does not have a coherent plot or theme. It mostly involves slowly going from an unknown city (which may be part of a composite including La Crosse and Brisbane) into an unknown forest, which then becomes a bit denser, although it seems to have a few old abandoned buildings. As I do so, I feel better and better.
There is one setting prior to going into the woods to the east that appears to be my sister’s house but which is actually some sort of school or is at least set up as such. Somehow, I am apparently a young student (possibly sixth grade, though later everyone seems a bit younger) but am not directly active in any class even though I sense I could be or should be. Instead, I walk around noticing that the area looks more like some sort of complex display of various interesting colorful magazines and puzzle books. Some are upright on stands and others are arranged evenly, spread over tables in playing-card-like spans. For some reason, I feel very cheerful at this point even though in the back of my mind I think I should be spending more time directly taking any classes at the scene.
The teacher and students are all unknown. As I am walking along, a few seemingly cheerful students follow me. They seem to care a lot about me (or my destination) and I make a sincere comment of how I wish I was much younger again. This seems to create a strong presence of believing that people of the same age get along much better and that this part of my dream is somehow unique in that it is supposedly unusual for people of different ages to socialize at all.
At any rate, the sense of cheerfulness is quite elevated. A bit later, we go into an area that is somehow associated with Yakov Smirnoff. This could be some sort of rude juvenile play on words, though it is a name I have no real clue about even though it sounds vaguely familiar (something from many years ago, perhaps). I am thinking that it may be a famous tennis player or skier, or more likely a political figure, I begin to reason. My dream then distorts the name into “Yarkov Smornov” and I eventually get the idea that the name or anything similar to it is completely fictional (though it is not - he is actually a Soviet-born American comedian that I really have never seen much of in my lifetime). Thinking on it, I notice that “Yakov’s” reversed letters read as “V Okay”, but that association is not complete to the scenario and why the name came up from “nowhere”. Because of this, it may have actual relevance to something in the near future, but on a very impersonal level.