Me and my sister are in this large, one-level house in rural Baltimore County. It's got a lot of doors-- way too many, although not so many that it's surreal. It's just a rich-people's house. There is a courtyard in the center of the house, like an outdoor part, and there are these white thatch gates in there and also out in the yard. I am rushing around the house trying to keep all the doors closed because slow-moving but deadly zombies are around. It's totally sunny outside and my sister keeps forgetting to close the doors because she's tired.
Later, the neighbors, who are some chatty, generic suburban types that I have never seen before, come over and at first I'm very annoyed with them but then I think they're OK. The wife has black hair tied up in a bun and a mole on her face. She invites me to come study at her university, and I think it's a good idea until she starts telling me what classes I would take, and I don't feel like she understands that if I'm in school, I should probably study writing. A lot of family members show up for some kind of party and my dad's mom because fixated on the idea of trying to light one of her farts with a lighter.