I was down on the Plaza meeting Bob for lunch--very near Houlihan's. We had lunch, then left the restaurant, and he got in his car and took off, and then I realized that I didn't know where my car was. It wasn't that I had forgotten where I'd parked it--somehow, it had parked itself, and I didn't know where.

I knew that a car couldn't actually drive itself, but it seemed that it had. So I had to try to think where I would have parked it if I had driven it . . .

I looked down toward the end of the street, and there were barriers up because there had apparently been a flood, and the street was closed and there was water rushing down it. Obviously, I couldn't go that way, but I walked down anyway, to look, and the street dropped off as if it was broken, and the water was like a river. I backed away quickly before I lost my balance and fell over.

I walked back toward the restaurant and ran into Jen L., and asked her where she had parked; she told me in one of the parking garages up on 47th Street. I tried to think if I would have parked there--if I would have, maybe the car would be there--but I couldn't really visualize it.

Then I was in somewhere like Seville Square, and I notice a young girl with what appears to be a fly on her earlobe. Before I brush it off, I realize that it's an earring, and it's actually a small, very realistic-looking fish, and she also has one in a piercing on her upper lip--very strange, and not at all attractive, but none of my business, obviously.

I move on.

Mom called me on the telephone and said, "Your password is BOTC." I asked her, "BOTMC?" thinking maybe it had something to do with the Book of the Month Club, and she said, "No, BOTC."

The water heater breaks, along with the water cooler(?). I'm worried, but think that they're not too expensive to replace, not like the furnace, so it shouldn't be too bad. And also, I have a coupon for some percentage off the purchase price, but then I can't find it.

I'm at dad's house and John comes over with two other doctors, a couple, one woman and one man; they bring their contracts along with them, therefore, they're okay.

I look up, and there are trails of water moving rapidly across the ceiling. Daddy goes up in the attic to see what's wrong, and I know he'll be able to fix it.

I was in a bookstore wandering around, and thinking that I was unsatisfied with my purse. It was an orange burlap wallet-on-a-string, much like my real black leather one, but orange and burlap. So sort of yucky.

I saw someone else's bag on a counter and looked inside, and was impressed because it was completely organized--everything was in a separate interior bag and the bag itself had several compartments. I was jealous, but knew that I couldn't get a new one since I'd just bought the one I had, so I needed to find a way to make that one work for me.

I had two children, babies. One was male, and older, and one was a little girl with black hair named Dinah. She was newborn, and I was trying to figure out how I was supposed to feed her. I knew she was supposed to get formula, but I didn't know how much, or when--once a day? Twice a day? It was complicated, and I didn't know how to find out, or who to ask. I thought how it wasn't surprising that new mothers like JS had trouble. How were you supposed to know?

There was some sort of a car race going on, like NASCAR, and I was in a hotel room with two men--one younger, one older. We all needed to be able to monitor the race on laptop computers, but only one of us could be connected at a time, i.e., there was only one connection account per hotel room.

I had connected up, but the older man was trying to connect, and when we realized that only one could be connected at a time, I got offline so he could connect.

Diehard got a new jacket, and I was helping him put it on. It was a windbreaker, kind of a rusty, faded red color, with two long sleeves and a hood--just like a regular human jacket.

I was at the office, and I decide to move the furniture to see if I could find a more pleasing arrangement. The two beds (which don't actually exist) were the problem--trying to find a way to arrange them so that they weren't right next to each other, like a barracks or something, and still looked nice. I was pretty sure I could figure out a way to do it.

People were talking about lunch, and J. said she was going to fix one of the mashed potato things I'd brought in, and asked me how to do it. I just told her to be careful not to put too much water in--she didn't ask if it was okay if she took it, but I was only a little annoyed. Something was said about there being two people there who had killed people, which I hadn't known about, but that was cool.

I'm watching something like a travelogue, a voice in my head narrating. There are fireworks over a body of water, and lots of tall buildings that have lights in the windows, and the fireworks are reflected in the glass of the buildings.

Then we seem to flying over a field of some kind of grain waving in the wind, or maybe a sea of grass like the Everglades.

As all this is going on, I overhear a conversation between two women who seem to be discussing me, saying something like I would only have a few years, that I wasn't supposed to come out until 2032. I believe that I have been frozen for some reason, perhaps I had an incurable disease, but don't know why I'm being woken up now, whether it's a mistake or intended.

WV's sister was in college somewhere, and since she had gotten good grades, was allowed to participate in nude sunbathing. The nude sunbathers were located right off a highway. I wondered aloud to someone how long it would take, if you were involved in something like that, for it to become old hat, i.e., not titillating, and I said I wasn't sure I would want that to happen.

Wv's mother was going to read my palm, but first, she had to boot up her Mac, a G3. While I was waiting, she covered me up with a big, white, fluffy comforter, and I was comforted.

I am involved in stealing cars with several people, one of whom is Tom Hanks. He has been out stealing a car, and comes back upset--he has stolen a big Cadillac and it's really too big, and he is afraid he's going to get caught. I decide I need to go move it, or return it, I'm not clear on that.

When I get out to the car, someone else is coming in with another stolen car, and I'm afraid they're going to run into mine. I jab the keys into the ignition, and start it up, and am able to move it before the other car runs into me. I drive away.

I'm standing in front of a mirror trying on clothes, trying to put together a warm outfit. I wonder if my old green/red/white skirt still fits, and if it would look okay with Bob's long cream colored sweater. I can't remember if I ever wore them together.

I buy a Palm Pilot, and, strangely, it comes with a paper organizer. I can't really figure out why, but I don't argue--it seems weird that a digital organizer would come with a paper book. The organizer is the three-ring kind, and in addition, there is also a bound diary that I like better. It's nicely bound in soft brown leather with gold edges on the paper.

As I unpack everything, I see that the ring-bound organizer doesn't actually have a cover, just a set of bare rings and pages. There are lots of pages and tabs and things to put together.

There's another guy nearby unpacking his as well, and he asks what kind I got--he says the one he got was "kind of girly." I don't really care, since I don't need the ring bound one anyway, and offer to give it to him, but it turns out that we got different sizes. Mine is smaller and the pages won't fit in his binder, and since I didn't get a cover at all, there's not much point. His is nice, black leather with a zipper. I decide I could probably call the place where I bought it and ask for a cover and see what happens.

I notice that the Palm has pre-set channels on it, like a television--a little row of buttons with numbers on them.

Julia asks me to do an estimate for a job, but I forget to do it. She comes by and asks me, and I apologize and say I hadn't gotten to it yet, and ask if we can meet about it.

When we meet, it turns out that the job is making habits for nuns--sewing them and then embroidering designs on them. There are brown ones and blue ones. I hope that someone else will sew them and I will get to do the embroidering, since that's the part I like best and am best at. I have a hard time estimating how much time it will take, though.

I was with someone else, a man, listening to DK's promo CD. I was disappointed to find that Dave Alvin, not DK, sang on most of the songs. We listened to four--the first was an instrumental, the next two DA sang, and we couldn't get the fourth to play.

AK appeared then, and tryed placing the needle in different places (it was a vinyl album by then, not a CD), but we could never get it to play. DK walked through the room then, and tossed something to a pair of young teenage girls who were sitting on a couch nearby. They caught it (it looked like a roll of mints) and told him, "Oh, stop!" and giggled, and he smiled at me and walked on by.

Someone--apparently the builder--was telling me about a house that he had built that had a waterfall in the bedroom. He showed it to me, and it did indeed have a waterfall--sheets of water cascading down the bedroom wall.

I needed to get something out of the bedroom closet, so went in the bedroom and inadvertently woke up the builder's wife, who was very gracious about having to get out of bed so I could rummage around in the closet.

There were other people with me, and they couldn't figure out how to turn off the waterfall, couldn't find the water source.

I finally found it, though, in a cabinet underneath the sink. I was very proud of myself and showed them that I had found it. The only problem was that when I turned the spigot to the "off" position, water ran out in waves onto the floor. The builder came over and showed me that if I kept the opening--a tube-like thing--above the water level in the tank, that wouldn't happen, and "off" would indeed turn off the waterfall.

I'm in a hardware store or some kind of store like that, buying dog food. I have carried in a small, opened bag of cat food that I already owned, but I'm afraid that they're going to think that I've stolen it.

So I open up a bag of dog food and scoop out a couple of handfuls of food, then put the cat food in on top of it and turn down the top of the bag. Of course, the bag is obviously opened, and I also have the empty bag that the cat food was in, now.

I'm worried, and don't know what to do, so I walk around the store carrying the dogfood bag, and the clerks watch me, and I wonder what I should do.