The Post-Gazette asked five local residents to share their dreams over a two-week period in September. Here is one volunteer:

	John Beale, Post-Gazette Jocelyn Hillen, of Mt. Washington. Click photo for larger image. Related stories Dream Journal: Peter Baynes Dream Journal: Jean-Jacques Sene Dream Journal: Tara Deringor Insights from a decade-long dream journal Dreams: From falling to failing, it's the same old stories The 12 universal dreams How to keep a dream journal

Jocelyn Hillen, 24, of Mount Washington, works at a Downtown coffee shop. She is intrigued with dreams and pays close attention to them.

She grew up in Pittsburgh, moved to Philadelphia for college, where she received a bachelor's degree in liberal arts and theater, and lived there for six years. She's now back in Pittsburgh, saving up some money to travel and doing some free-lance writing.

Hillen, who is single and a smoker, said she was a bit disturbed to realize that she had dreamt of herself smoking on several occasions.

This dream is somewhat upsetting, but I can't remember the whole story. Just images: walking across a rickety bridge with red and white boards. Going to a Wal-Mart type store with K. and trying on sweaters that looked like pink popcorn sewn together. K. tells me she's moving to New York with her boyfriend, and I get very upset because everybody is moving to New York and leaving me behind. I get very upset and nervous, angry with her. I'm at work. S., a co-worker, is telling a customer, "What do you think this is, a library? A video shop where you can read the back of the box?" He's getting very worked up so I take him in the back to tell him he shouldn't act that way with customers. Once back there, everything is covered in cockroaches, and I get exhausted. I was trapped in the aquarium at the zoo. Very hot and steamy and I was terrified. Somehow I got out. I am driving into Los Angeles, down a windy hill, full of trees and flowers. More like San Francisco, with a city at the bottom of the hill, popping out from the smog, big and beautiful. I am thinking that I ought to take pictures to show my family, and that I ought to go to Phoenix next.

I get into the city, park in front of a high school. A ratty looking boy with long blonde hair leans in my window and tells me I can't park there. I have a feeling that he might be making fun of me. I see a big group of his friends, so I decide to leave the car where it is.

It feels like the first day of school. Lots of people milling around, I don't know precisely where I am or where I should be going, unclear whether it's high school or college. The blonde boy is my friend now, and he's showing me around the school. A locker room with dirty toilets.

Then I'm in the cafeteria, eating lunch. Stephen King is a teacher at the school, and he's in the cafeteria, trying to move chairs around. I want to help him, because he looks really sick and frail. So I offer to help, but he says no thanks, he just wants to go outside.

The first part of this dream was definitely a nightmare, something about the plague and people dying en masse. I woke up suddenly at 2 a.m., and it faded immediately.

Then, I go to see [punk folksinger] Ani DiFranco with G. and a bunch of other people. It's in a school. A man comes up to me and offers me money because I am so pretty. I tell him I can't accept it because I'm with my boyfriend. He insists, and G. gets really angry, starts shoving the guy and then stomps off. I get mad that he left me alone at this concert, so I take the money. 5 bucks.

Then there is an intermission, and I go off with my group of friends to look for a place to smoke. There is no smoking allowed in the building, so we go up and down a bunch of stairs until we find a balcony. About 50 feet down is a little beach, complete with palm trees and an ocean; I'm really impressed this is all on a roof. I see people playing in the water, but the only way to get down is to climb an incredibly steep ladder. It is constructed out of big, colorful coffee table books, shoved into moss and rock and dirt. It doesn't feel too steady, but I start to climb down anyway. I am having a really difficult time because I am wearing high heels. I look down and see that everybody is barefoot, so I throw my shoes off. But the dream ends before I get to the beach.

All I remember is trying to get a parking space, and there were none. I am in a bunker or trench, during a war. It feels like World War II, but I think it's present day. The 'bunker' is behind a wall of rickety, white boards, widely spaced and splintered, and I can clearly see the soldiers on the other side. I feel very naked and vulnerable. I am in the bunker with three or four other soldiers, and I am definitely not in charge. I am handed a rifle and instructed to put it between the boards and aim at the soldiers outside. The general, or the guy in charge, tells me to shoot if the soldiers get too close, or if they try to climb the wall, to use my bayonet to stab them in the crotch.

We are guarding a door, and before I realize what's happening, the other soldiers are climbing the wall and hopping over. I think, "Oh my God, they can shoot me right through the wall!" I aim my gun at one of the soldiers. I start yelling, "Should I shoot? Should I shoot?" and I am completely panicked.

I am told to shoot them, so I pulled the trigger, and nothing happened, my gun isn't loaded. I realize that the enemy soldiers know that I am trying to shoot them, and that they are definitely going to try to kill me. So I start to run, and I do this massive Jackie Chan spin kick jump, and I land behind a suitcase, and I hide. I hear a voice say, "Wow, I've never seen anything like that."

Suddenly, I am in my apartment, packing for a trip to Ireland. (A trip, which, in reality, I have already taken.) It's really late at night, my plane is supposed to leave in about two hours, and I cannot believe I have left all the packing for the last minute. It is very unlike me. During this, my boyfriend is letting people into my apartment so they can check the quality of the food in my refrigerator.

Random images of overflowing toilets and my boyfriend's mother sleeping. I am at a comic book convention/toy auction/big movie pow-wow. I am there with K, and I am not having a very good time. I'm feeling sort of sick, and I'm sitting in the bathroom in my pajamas, smoking. K is having the time of her life, running around and talking to everybody, occasionally poking her head into the bathroom to tell me what I'm missing. She's getting calls from celebrities on her cell phone; she's talking to Elijah Wood and Sarah Michelle Gellar. This, for some reason, makes me jealous, so I decide to go join the party.

I shuffle out into the main room, (this is in a hotel) and I feel like an invalid because I am wearing huge, white pajama pants. I stop at a table to look at toys. I examine Barbie styling heads and My Little Pony. There is a monolithic, fully automated Barbie Shopping Mall that moves the Barbie inside of it without anybody having to touch it. Looking at it fills me with intense nostalgia, like I had owned one when I was a kid, and I turn to somebody beside me and say, "You can almost feel it on your fingers!" This makes me very happy.

Then I sit down to have a drink, and I notice George Lucas and Steven Spielberg a few tables over from me, chatting. I get super excited, I want to go over and tell them that I am an actress, but I'm too shy. So I tell Steven Spielberg that I'm very happy that he's doing an adaptation of a new horror novel, I thought the first one was great.

Then the dream jumped to something about a swimming pool, and something about Johnny Cash.

(Note: This dream occurred three days after Johnny Cash died.)

Panic, chaos, excitement. Some sort of party, cold night, an outdoor staircase, and a kiss.