My boyfriend Jeremy went with me to the doctor.  I took off my blue jeans and underwear, thinking I was going to get a pelvic exam.  The doctor came in and measured the extension of my jaw, then the distance of the stretch of my cheeks.  She turned around to do something and I realized I was still pants-less and tried quickly to put them on, embarrassed at my mistake, that she was a jaw doctor not a gynecologist.  I talked to my paternal Grandma Fay on the phone.  She was sad about something to do with Christmas tradition, someone not showing up.  I realized I had my tuxedo shirt on, and figured I was going to deal tonight.  When we got to my maternal Grandma Jane's house I tried calling my dealing coordinator Rita so I could get the details- where I was going and what time I had to be there.  I kept having trouble dialing.  I talked to a man on a wrong number, and then took the phone into the family room.  I tried dialing again, and again got the number wrong.  Several seconds later, Santa Claus arrived, landing his sleigh in the family room, because I'd called him.  Then Jeremy and I were on campus, leaving one class to go to another.  We followed a woman down some steps cluttered with cut leaves.  The woman might have been the teacher from the class we were leaving.  We walked to the left toward the truck, passing some angry dinosaur-like flamingos.  Something to do with a black person named "Matt Willis", perhaps supposed to be a classmate from elementary school.  Then we were across campus.  There was some question as to whether woman we had been behind on the steps was pregnant.  It seemed like an odd thing to consider- I perceived of her something like Claire Huxtable.  Then she was on an operating table, seemingly having an abortion.  Bits of things were everywhere; it was disgusting.  After a while a baby was held up- it wasn't an abortion, but somehow birthing the baby killed a doctor and the baby was somehow at fault, though not maliciously blamed.