back to back dreams

I'm sharing these for my benefit, not for that of my phantom readers, because I never remember my dreams and it just so happens that, for not one but two nights in a row I've had very vivid dreams that are still wedged in the skull. Before I dispel I'm going to copy and paste from Mr. David Sedaris on undecided voters.

'I look at these people and can’t quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors?
I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention?
To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks.
“Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”
To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.'

And now the dreams. Kari, my sister, and I are on this smaller sized cruise ship headed to Mongolia, (you know because it is so landlocked and all) it seems like we're on the ocean because there are waves and we're on the top deck excited because we see our docking point, which is the peoples house we are going to be staying at. We also see hippos. Many, many hippos. And these are huge getting ready for the Mongolian winter hippos, not your average African river horses.
The boat barely stops to drop us off and we sludge through the wetland to get to the house. The house has this sort of European old person feel, light brown shag carpet accompanied with the classic geriatric scent. The lady is very nice, shows us our room and tells us the price is $13.00 a night. I ask her about all of the hippos, because they are everywhere. We are in the kitchen and this ginormous hippo is trudging up the hill to the neighbors house. We are scared, they are scared too. The neighbor gives up a plastic container of dog bones to the hippo, which opens it eats the bones and tosses the container down. Then the hippo sees us. We run towards our guest room. I'm standing against the door while the hippo is terrorizing the house. I decide it's better to hide under the bed because the hippo could obviously break down the door and under the bed would be harder to spot us. So we bolt bedside and what do we see? 3 lovely afghans folded so neatly; one pink, one tan, and the other, who knows? Finally, the raucous ends, the man of the house comes in the bedroom with a small handgun and explains the mess we have caused. I feel terrible and begin to start cleaning.

And last nights. I'm enrolled at UCSF (a somewhat prestigious school, I guess) the classroom is a big beautiful wooden one, and a friend and I are not paying any attention. The instructor calls on me to join in the discussion. I apologize to him, say I wasn't sure which page we are on and he is livid. Everyone knew what was going to happen. I was to be expelled the UCSF way. A group of established looking older gentlemen come in and call me to the front of the room. They circle around me, as if being confirmed after baptism, and in front of the whole class I am officially withdrawn from the school.
Could you imagine?