I was buying large plastic swan-shaped boats, probably paddle boats, for “the pool.” Of course, I don’t have a pool, but everyone needs paddle boats.

Joel said, “I don’t want to be here,” as he turned to go to Wellington. (I think he really wanted Mulvane, but can’t be sure.)

Andrew & Cerise, the lovely British couple who’s vacating the living space I will soon occupy, are moving to England because their son is sick and they want to be near their family. I dreamt that Cerise was pregnant and the unborn son’s sickness was why they were leaving. When I got to the place, the stairs were glass and surrounded by glass walls.

I went to some gathering and an Asian woman asked if I wanted some advice. I said sure, and she started to sing April March’s “Stay Away from Robert Mitchum.”

I was having lunch in a small restaurant (kind of like Bel Ami, but brighter) with John and Cindy McCain. Someone was going to introduce me to John, but as I shook John’s hand, I told the introducer that we had already met. We had a pleasant lunch. Leaving the restaurant, I ran into Woods.

I moved into my new place and ripped off the wallpaper in the kitchen only to find orange and gold foil. (This is obviously related to the estate sale I went to a few days ago that made me dream in orange and red last night too.) Also, when I moved in, a little girl stood in the kitchen as I was looking at the odd things remaining in the refrigerator. She said, “I come with the house. I’m going to my room now.” I was not amused.

I also dreamt about speed traps on the expressway.

I woke up with the sentence “the kids will never get the omlettes made in time” stuck in my head.

Thinking about it now, perhaps Dexter’s Lab was showing that “omlette du fromage” episode while I slept. That’s distinctly possible.

* I was painting in red and orange.

* Anna G. dyed her hair bright bright fire engine red with acrylic paints. I was watching her wring out the oozing red in some smoky country-western bar.

* Howard let me paint at the Center. I was working on some canvases on the floor in the gallery and I praised him for being so adult and letting me play at the Center again.

I made vaguely cryptic notes this morning after waking up, but I’m still not completely clear on all the details.

I was living at my grandpa’s house with my mom and Mari, and there was something about “leaving the house for the first time when Nightline comes on.” I was rinsing dust off the brown pants I rarely wear when a person from high school, long forgotten until I saw her picture again in the midst of packing, showed up.

I also told people (in a dream) about nightmares I had been having about eye charts. There were loud dogs outside and another psycho man running around and I just murmured, “I knew I didn’t want to live on the southwest side of town.”

Now, a collection of dreams from previous nights:

11/15: My boss gave me a Sit ‘n’ Spin and I was, of course, deliriously happy.

I visited DRC in his Comotara home. A strange man outside wailed and wailed, so I took shelter inside. He had to go throw pots, and I did him a favor by going to KU and getting some clay for him.

I was either in a large arena or an airport and I ran into the mayor.

11/16: Kathleen and I were playing in my new house when we discovered that it had a whole additional level in the basement. We walked into one room and it was very much like Larry’s Piano Bar. There were nine circular booths, like the corner one in Angela’s where Linden, Jaime, Matt, and I had lunch last time Matt was in town. I heard Kathleen squeal, “Oh my God! You have to make them leave the dance floor.” We turned the corner and found several rooms with 1970s dark wood bunk beds. I reasoned that the previous owners had a Little League team spend the summer with them.

Al Gore was hawking Suzukis for Carbanc.

I took an elevator to New York after returning curtains to JC Penney’s.

The airlines would charge passengers who went to the bathroom within five minutes of takeoff an additional $2000.

11/17: Lael sent me an e-mail entitled “however; angle 2.”

11/18: I was running with a flashlight on my grandfather’s road, dodging between cars.

I woke up at 4:00 a.m., Nyquil having worn off and slightly hungry. I ate a bagel with cream cheese and went back to sleep. Herein lies the slightly disturbing, but oddly comforting, Twin Peaks dream.

I was with Special Agent Chet Desmond (Chris Isaak) who was trying to keep me conscious. I had been drinking from a 2-liter bottle of Nyquil and I think I had had about a liter, give or take a pint. I was nearly unconscious when I got cold and wrapped Special Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) around me like a blanket. Cooper had no bones, so this wasn’t nearly as painful for either one of us as it may sound.