1) I kept a bottle of brandy by the bed so I could just take a swig and go back to sleep easily.
2) I crawled through a old house and ended up cooking for Napoleon.
3) A twelve-year-old was getting married to a thirtysomething-year-old. He was sending her video letters. She was most concerned about his balding. The rest of us were just concerned.
4) Something involving a large display of a movie in a setting like a shop class.

Kathleen, Lael and I were eating in a pub when Officer D*** walked in. We didn’t exactly want him to join us for some reason; I think Kathleen harbored a grudge or something. We were almost done eating and I didn’t want to sit there longer while he ordered something with his friends and we watched them eat just to be polite, perhaps intimidated because, well, they’re cops. So I hid in my napkin. He walked by and tossed a $100 bill on the table for us: my napkin disguise was not clever enough. Damn. But we ended up with an extra $100 bucks, which I pocketed and continued to eat my chips, er, fries.

We were then at a party in the afternoon. We had been split up into eight groups - I was in group eight - to go participate in a battle of the bands-type thing. I went outside and got into a 1930s-ish hot rod, gunmetal gray with black tape making an intriguing pattern on it. Inside was a band that looked like a combination between Interpol and Motorhead. Also sitting in the front seat was Heather H from high school. The seats were white and smooth leather, like Matt’s old car Darlene.

The lead singer/driver informed me that we had to do a Simon and Garfunkel song. Looking at Heather and thinking back at how often the two of us had been compared (we were both pale, smart, and somewhat outspoken — the same boys thought us pretty), I suggested “Bookends.” Then I asked why we had to do a Simon and Garfunkel song. The lead singer/driver suddenly had Art Garfunkel hair — he ran his fingers over (not through — that might loosen it too much) and said, “I do a mean Art Garfunkel.” I asked if anyone had a chicken costume to do Paul Simon. They had decided to do a different song, not “Bookends,” but I don’t remember what.

Dates unknown, but both happened after John Kerry announced Edwards was his running mate.

Dream #1: I was sitting at the foot of my mom’s bed in my childhood home as Mom was watching television. Edwards came in and gave me a big (platonic) hug. It was an excellent hug.

Dream #2 - weeks later: I was watching CNN and saw Edwards getting into a presidential-looking helicopter at a Camp David-like setting. He got trapped between the door of the helicopter, which was mechically trying to open, and the helicopter itself. So basically Edwards was getting hurt (though not bloodily) by being squeezed on live television. It was horrible.

Perhaps that one was just a reaction against the whole “Jacuzzi case” crap that Tucker Carlson is spewing.