A letter and gift from Julia Child

I'm walking down a street on my childhood paper route. I see two men knock on a door and pull out guns when the resident answers. I'm many yards away, but suddenly I have one of the men's gun in my hand. I point it at them, my hands shaking. A dozen or so other people with guns show up and hold the men at gunpoint. Police officers take away the two men and I overhear something about a $60,000 reward.

There's a concert going on at my junior high. The junior high band is practicing a Christmas carol, I walk out of the practice room into a large hall when an all black orchestra is giving the concert. I talk to one of the musicians and someone in the audience, telling them that Julia Child once wrote a letter to me about my fanzine - which interviewed musicians about food.

I'm in another room at my junior high with coworkers. One has received a musical keyboard he ordered from eBay. I play a console organ with him. I notice the organ is damaged in a corner, but the damages although severe seem to be only cosmetic.

I'm in a hall, still in the junior high but there are lines of people waiting in grocery store checkouts. A young man gives me a small cheap fabric badge for assisting is arresting the criminals earlier in the dream, the award I understood to be $60,000.

A coworker and I enter a room that's supposed to be my bedroom with the understanding we're going to have sex. We're naked. There's a vinegary smell in the room but the window is open. As I'm thinking the vinegar smell will soon clear out through the window, my coworker closes it, saying she feels cold. I don't feel comfortable with the situation and to avoid sex, I suggest we put sunscreen lotion on our inner arms and armpits.

I'm at a dinner party in an opulent mansion. I'm again telling the story of how Julia Child wrote me, when I discover she's actually at the dinner party. She shows me different sets of fine wines that I can order for $0.69 because I know her. When she asks me which set I'd like I tell her I'm appreciative, but can't really judge that any wine is a higher quality than another once the price gets over $20 a bottle so maybe she should chose for me. She seems a bit condescending but polite as she walks off to find a collection of mustards she says I'd probably prefer.