I had an email from D. with the subject, "The Terrible, Terrible Dining Room." It gave me (and several other recipients, I noticed) the answers to a word problem about the Beatles. The email said, "They were four very distinct personalities; I placed them pretty quickly--John, Paul, Ringo, George." He didn't attach the problem itself, though.

There were copies listed to several people. I thought that I needed to write to him and find out what the problem was. He said he had papers scattered all over while he was figuring it out.

There was a huge group of people; some sort of meeting. We all had to quickly go to Australia, but I didn't know why. We had to look up our names in a computer, but I can't find mine--when I look up my name, someone else comes up.

Bob won't help me. I'm trying not to get angry, it's just bad communication.

I remember that I found my name once, so I know it's possible, but I can't find it again now. Everyone else is asleep, and I just keep trying.

A woman has asked me if I would do her a favor, and I said I would, but I didn't really understand what I was supposed to do. It turns out that I'm supposed to cover a piano lesson class for her, but I'm not sure I can do it. In fact, I don't even have a piano.

But, as it turns out, I do have an electronic keyboard, and I'm trying frantically to set it up on my dad's desk. The cord isn't long enough to allow the keyboard to sit squarely on the desk, though, and I ask for an extension cord, but he (my dad) doesn't seem to understand what I need.

I see the people arriving for the lesson, and begin to panic. What am I going to do? I don't know how to teach the piano.

E. was cleaning out his old room, the room where the previous owner had made the films, pulling things out and throwing them away; he was going to move back in. He wasn't going to let the old memories keep him out.

I was at some sort of fair, eating an ice cream bar. It was a very large and complicated ice cream bar, though, with something in the middle surrounded by ice cream, then coated with some sort of coconut coating on the outside.

It was sort of falling apart as I was eating it, and I was trying to keep from dropping it, and my hands were getting all sticky. So I decided to go wash them, and put the ice cream down.

I went inside to a big room. The lights were turned down, but there was light from outside; it wasn't frightening, just a big, clean room like an industrial kitchen.

I went to a big stainless steel sink, but couldn't see where to turn the water on. Then I saw a switch that said, "Push to unlock." I pushed it, and the water came on, and I washed my hands, then Al Gore's voice came over a speaker and said, "Hello, this is Al Gore," apparently triggered by the water being unlocked.

I said that I had just unlocked the water so I could wash my hands, and I would lock it back up when I left, which would be soon.

Then Gore and a couple of other people showed up, and he wanted to make a phone call. I wasn't sure I should let him, because now it seemed like I was in charge of being sure no one abused the resources. I finally agreed that he could go ahead and make the call, but I asked him to be sure and turn out the lights and lock everything up when he left.

There was a little Oriental girl that didn't have a home; I was with several other people, and no one wanted to take responsibility for her. I didn't, really, either, but since no one else was, I felt that I couldn't leave her alone, so I said that I would take her.

All the time I was thinking that I really didn't want to give up my current lifestyle; I was single and free and could do anything I wanted, but then I tried to convince myself it would be fine, that maybe it was time for a change, and maybe it would be fun.

She had a tattoo of Chinese characters--two of them, very small and faded, on the pad of skin between her thumb and forefinger. I checked the tattoo to be sure she was the right girl.

Then I'm back at my home, and Nash Bridges and Joe Dominguez are there--Nash appears to be the "dad" of the family; Joe is a friend. The little Oriental girl is now a teenager, and we're a family. There's also an older teenage boy, very tall, and another girl who is visiting.

The girls are sleeping in the living room, on the floor, and I tell them to get up, that we have to eat. I go in to tell Nash that I'm going to get dinner, and before I can say anything, he says, "Are you going for junk food?" I say I guess so, and he says you can't go wrong with an Extra Value Meal, and he hands me some bills.

He's been working, and he pushes his glasses up, and looks tired. I thought he would go to dinner with us, but I hate to ask, and decide just to bring it back with me.

When I go back into the living room, the money looks like a fistful of coupons, and the second girl says, "No, no, we can't just have McDonald's!" meaning, I take it, that she wants "real" food, not just fast food.

Fish (former frontman of Marillion) had a new album coming out, and he was going to be signing autographs at Streetside.

I stopped at the record store on the way to work (it's right across the street) to ask them about it, like what time it was, and when I got there there was a long line in front of the counter, so rather than wait in it, I browsed through the CDs. I was thinking I might buy the new album so he could sign it (which is what I assumed the rest of the people were doing), but I couldn't tell which one it was, then realized that it was being released that evening at 6:00, so it wouldn't be in the bins yet.

I interrupted the guy at the counter to ask him about the time of the signing, and he said it was at 6:00, so I headed back over to work, and realized that it was 9:30, and I was late--I'd spent longer than I thought at the record store. I rushed across the street, and to save time, decided to go over the roof rather than in the front door.

I got in trouble, though, because the roof was made of big concave metal things that were slippery, and I got into one of them, but couldn't get to the next one and couldn't go back. I didn't know what I was going to do, and knew that it was getting later and later, then someone came and tried to help me, but I was still afraid.

Then I was somewhere inside where a party was going on, and Fish was there. He had long hair in dreadlocks and lots of tattoos and silver rings, and black nail polish. He was great.

A friend of mine was going to marry him, so I felt like I had an "in." I felt very comfortable in that I didn't feel I had to prove anything, or rush around trying to talk to him, because, since he was doing the signing that night, he would be there all day.

So I go back to work, and work, and then suddenly realize that it's 7:30, and I'm late again! I rush out, and can't find the exit. Rather than being at the office, I'm now at some sort of mall, in a food court sort of place, and don't know where the exits are. A young man helps me, and we finally find the door, and I turn around and wave thank you at him as I run outside.

Outside, it's like Las Vegas, with loads of neon lights and sound, and I see Streetside in the distance, so I run that way. But before I go into the record store, I have to go back into the office, and once I get in there, there are several security doors I have to get through, and I don't know the codes. I buy something--Atomic Fireballs--from a vending machine, which seems to be one of the codes, and then I finally get outside again, and get to the store, and he's still there.

I hang back, not wanting to be in the way, and also wanting to experience the whole thing from a little ways away, but I worry that I'll get too uninvolved, and miss hiim again.

I was marrying E. because J. was pregnant. I didn't want to, really, but for some reason it felt like I didn't have a choice. I even checked up on J., trying to find out if she was really pregnant, because I knew she'd been going to a birth control clinic. But I was assured that she really was. Why this meant *I* had to marry him, I'm not sure. It was like I was doing a noble thing.

Some comment was made about how hot the weather was, and I asked him if there was air conditioning in the house, and he said yes, and I reassured him that everything would be fine, that we would be okay, but it started me thinking that I really couldn't do this, that I had to find some way to tell him. And I suddenly remembered that he was moving to Boston, and obviously I'd have to go with him, but I couldn't--what would I tell Bob?

Someone came around and said we were leaving on our field trip to the zoo, but no one had told me. It was 4:00, and obviously I wouldn't be home at my regular time, so I had to call Bob to tell him, but I worried that he would be angry I hadn't told him in the first place.