I am in a class, maybe writing class. A woman is setting up some sort of conference. She is taking special interest in making me comfortable. She gives me a notebook and papers and a candle and a potted plant and other amenities. I gather them up one by one with Charla's help and take them to my desk, but it takes up two desks worth of room. I'm the only one this is permitted with. Now it's time to go to the first activity. I get on a sailboat she is trying to drive. At first it won't budge from the dock, but then as she turns the wheel around and around. It starts to go, but the channel is very obstructed with things like wooden boxes and so on. We bump our way through them, she turning the wheel sharply from one end to the other. It fairly spun in her hands. We get off and walk down a path to a house. Inside the ceremonies are beginning. Each person has special duties or tasks to do. One man is reading a religious paper. Someone asks me, Where's my copy?" I say, "Oh, I left it on my desk. I already read it." Then I feel like I would like to join in with the man, reciting passages with him, but don't have my copy. Then a man in a wheelchair dressed in drag comes in. His mother tells him to go on back out and continue with the activity. He takes his black, curly wig off. He is partially bald. He feels a little silly dressed in women's clothes.