I am at my apartment. It's the dream version of where I live, meaning that I have twice the space, the apartment is spotless, and everything in it is generally spiffier. Vito's status as primary pet is compromised, as I have a unnecessarily large pride of cats in my apartment. It seems as if most of them aren't mine, however. There are only two cats with collars; one is Vito and the other is a black and gray tabby named Turbo. I am surprised by the presence of all of these cats, and I quickly realize that the one with the "Vito" collar is not Vito, after all. I chase down every male orange tabby until I find the real Vito. Meanwhile, three cats have cornered a small mouse behind my radiator and are playing with it. My mom, who suddenly appears in the dream, is terribly disgusted by the mouse-hunting behavior.

I am on the lam. I can only vaguely recall the crime that I committed, but I do remember that it involved three separate tasks which I think were derived from a dungeon in Zelda: Ocarina of Time, which I played before bed last night. Initially, Sarah is also on the run with me. As we know that a huge police force is after us, we leave my apartment (which is a snazzier version of my current place) as soon as possible. In an attempt to do the unexpected, we don't leave the building, but enter the apartment across the hallway from mine to hide. Luckily, the apartment is host to a handful of really stoned hippies and a few similarly stoned kittens, who couldn't care less about our intrusion. In fact, they're kind enough to lend us a change of clothes and help Sarah and I cut and dye our hair. I feel badly doing it, but I take a wad of cash off of a hippie's dresser. If we continue to run from the police, we won't be able to use plastic. After the theft, the kittens seem to be on to me, as they're biting and scratching me incessantly.

Over time, Sarah's no longer on the run with me, though I've no explanation for her departure. I go through a number of chase scenes somewhat similar to the Bourne Ultimatum foot chase through the city. Tightly followed by police, I'm entering apartments and houses in an attempt to lose my tail. These chases are taking place in a city similar to Madison; most of the housing I'm invading is leased to students, and later in the dream, I am being chased through buildings on a college campus. I hot-wire a few vehicles, and at one point, I almost get away with purchasing a ticket and boarding a plane with a false identity. I'm pleasantly surprised by the number of people willing to help me on the sly. Using public phones and code-speak, I am able to arrange several meetings with family and friends. One of these meetings takes place at a delicious Japanese restaurant, where I have a spread of sushi I've never before encountered. I am wary of land lines and surveillance systems.

Eventually, I illegally cross the border into Canada, adopt an alias, and emigrate to France. I run into Evan in Paris, and we talk about our blogs. I compliment him on his excellent writing. He says he hopes to continue reading about my dreams. The dream ends as I'm walking away from Evan down a beautiful Parisian street.

1. (Nap, 9/30) I realize that someone has taken out my garbage. While this is a pleasant surprise, it's very strange. Even weirder are the two new receptacles placed next to the normal garbage can. Suddenly, my parents are next to me, smiling and proud. They explain that one of the new cans is there because they thought my current recycling bin was far too diminutive. The second can is the cat litter equivalent of a diaper genie. One is supposed to throw cat refuse into the bin and seal it off in the depths of the bin with a twist. I am glad that they helped me, but very confused by the odd gifts.

2. (10/1) Michael Franti and Spearhead (whom I saw at the Orpheum last night) are playing a free outdoor show at the Terrace. It seems like most of the student body has turned out for the event, and people are getting rowdy -- there is a lot of the jumping that Franti always calls for. I've come to the concert to meet up with Scott, who had some sort of meeting in the late afternoon. There's no hope finding him in all of the chaos of the show, so after they play East to the West, I head back to the apartment. As it turns out, Scott never went to the Terrace; he played with Vito for a couple of hours instead.

I am with my family on an expansive spaceship. It's clear that the spaceship is not ours, as we're occupying ourselves with exploring its many rooms. We walk into a large room. As with every room we've entered, there is a time delay of about 15 seconds before the overhead lighting automatically switches on. In the near darkness, all I can see initially is rows and rows of cages. I'm frightened, as I am fairly certain that we've entered the ship's prison. However, when the lights kick in, we encounter something much stranger. The room is an exotic zoo of sorts. It's full of creatures alien to us, each in its own cage. Imagine all of the bizarre characters from Monsters, Inc. as zoo animals, and you've got an idea of what we see.

The family and I are walking the room individually, ogling the caged animals, when Sarah screams with shock. We run to her; she's standing in front of a cage that contains two tiny kittens, your garden variety domestic short hairs. We also see immediately why Sarah screamed. The kittens have collars embedded under their skin, but no one has tended to the hastily-sewn stitches after inserting the collars. The two young cats are very obviously in pain. Papa pulls out a medical kit and declares that we must help the animals. After applying a topical local anesthetic, he cuts the collars out and begins to sew the wounds back together neatly. One of the kittens starts to lose blood quickly. I'm holding his neck wounds together to stop blood flow while my dad works. Weirdly, the blood lost is purple at first. Bleeding continues for a minute or two, and then the blood turns a more pedestrian red. The kitten is much less lethargic and generally more kitten-like after its blood looks normal. We realize that the kittens have been poisoned into near-torpor somehow via the collars. Since all of the zoo animals have these collars, we begin to debate our next step. Most of the room's species are foreign to us, and who knows what the animals are capable of doing once fully awakened from their lethargy?

I don't have any details, but I remember that in last night's dream, Vito shit on Scott's Wii. And this was not a little pile; quite the contrary. We're talking a coat over the entire surface of the Wii. It was awful-looking, and I hadn't gotten the courage to start cleaning by the time this dream ended.

(Vito's been having accident issues lately. He's going to the vet as soon as this weekend is over.)

I'm sitting on the couch in my living room, petting Vito, who's asleep on my lap. Tiff comes in, followed by a handful of people. I think I see my landlord coming in the door. (I haven't told her yet that I got a kitten -- it adds a surcharge to the rent. Paying the surcharge isn't an issue, but I haven't had a chance to talk to her yet. This makes Vito an undercover kitty, at present.) I leap up and basically thrust Vito in her arms, saying excitedly, "I got a kitten!" I think I was trying to act really pumped, like I had just acquired the cat. Anyway, the person I thrust Vito upon is not my landlord. It's Tiff's father's new girlfriend, and she's allergic to cats. I am embarrassed.

Several people are over at my Madison apartment to meet and play with Vito, my new kitten. For no apparent reason, one of my guests is this extremely arrogant bitch from my high school graduating class, whom I haven't seen since the graduation ceremony.

Vito's really excited, because I've purchased him canned food after a recommendation from the vet. He loves it, and gobbles up a whole small can in a matter of minutes. (I did buy Vito canned food yesterday. The vet recommended that I give him the extra fat and protein found in canned food, since he's got very little body fat at present.)

My guests and I are looking at pictures of my trip with Scott to Bonnaroo. I'm wearing these large sunglasses in most pictures, and my bitchy guest happens to comment on how hideous they are in a very passive-aggressive manner. She also lets me know that it's a good thing those sunglasses are now broken, since they must be an embarrassment to wear.

Soon after, Vito, who's been making weird gulping sounds for a minute or two after eating his meal, climbs onto the bitch's lap. Shortly thereafter, he upchucks all over her skirt. I am delighted; instant karma does exist. Thanks, Vito.

I am outside in the country, frantically looking around. My kitten has just run away, and I'm worried that I won't be able to find him. Eventually, I see a few kittens playing together. Two have the same coloring as my cat: orange stripes with patches of white. I am worried at first that I won't be able to tell my cat from the other, similar one. These worries soon disappear. I'd know Vito anywhere, as I've never heard a kitten talk so much in my life. Happily, I grab Vito from the other cats and walk away.

(Just got a kitten Saturday. Since he's always lazing on my bed at night, I wouldn't be surprised if I have a few cat-themed dreams.)

I am hanging out with Courtney and her new kitty. The cat is a front-declawed female, orange with white stripes. She's unnamed as of yet, and she attacks me when I walk through Courtney's front door. This little kitty has an attack impulse that has to be seen to be believed.

I also dreamt that I called Sylvan to apply to be a tutor to high school kids. I have no idea why.

I'm in my apartment looking for my new kitten. I already have a cat; I call her Sensi, like Sensimilia, Kori's cat, but she's white instead of black. This new kitten is a few weeks old, just big enough to fit from my wrist to fingertips in my hand. She's also completely white. However, this kitten is extremely shy.

To get her to come out, I behave like a cat, as I learned in my human-animal relations class. I sit quietly and scan left to right across the room. Even though I'm interested in the kitten, I don't act like it. She eventually comes over to say hello. I realize right away that she's actually a he, and he's not been neutered yet (I should certainly get on that). Good thing I haven't gotten around to naming him yet. For some reason, when he tries to get away from me, he starts squirming like a normal cat, but then collapses flat, like a flattened box. I get really worried about him, as I haven't seen this behavior before. Someone beside me reassures me that he's seen this before. It won't be a problem; he'll "reinflate" to normal kitten size in a few minutes, once his stress levels go down.