1. (10/6) I am finishing up a solo dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant. I hand my credit card and the bill to my waiter and lean back in my seat, relaxing after my delicious meal. He returns in a moment, informing me that my card does not function. When I look at the front of the card, I can see that the numbers are worn down and blurry to the point of being illegible. Furthermore, the magnetic strip on the back is all scratched up. I am horribly embarrassed, as I've no way to pay for my dinner at this point. I am lowered to the point of dine-and-dash, and as soon as the waiter walks away, I scurry out the back door in shame.

2. (last night) My ecology lab is about to begin. These labs are almost always field trip hikes through southern Wisconsin forests, and I need a better way to take notes than writing against a tree or my thigh. I am looking for a clipboard; because I know I don't have one of my own, I'm rifling through Tiff's room. I come across a fancy notebook covered in textured black leather and, out of curiosity, I open it. The contents of the notebook are upsetting. Tiff has kept a log of my misdeeds since we started rooming together. She's cataloged everything I've done incorrectly in the past year by date. I am so depressed after reading this log, and I resolve to be a better person and roommate. I carefully replace the notebook in its not-so-hidden hiding place and abruptly stop my clipboard search.
(Note: Tiff, not being a crazy person, would never create such a notebook. However, this dream was so wildly self-critical that I would like to be a better human being as a result.)

I am making myself a nice, gooey bowl of homemade macaroni and cheese, and I'm really enjoying the prospect of enjoying my meal with a tall glass of milk. Unfortunately, I used the remainder of a gallon in making the mac and cheese. Tiffany was nice enough to take care of this problem for me; she left a few minutes ago to go pick up some more milk, so I'm waiting for her arrival before I dig in.

Tiff returns promptly with bad news. Walgreen's has stopped selling milk. I am really bummed, because this mac and cheese just won't taste as good with water or lemonade.

I am with Scott in New York City. We're heading to a special sneak preview of Emeril Lagasse's new restaurant uptown. It's built upon a high-class brew pub concept. As we walk into the restaurant, we're awestruck at the number of taps available. There are tappers lining the entire length of the bar, and each dining table has its own tap, as well. Apparently, the idea is for people to pick a brew while making reservations; they'll be seated at a table with a tap of their beer of choice. We run into Emeril at this private sneak preview, and he tells us that 1500 tap and bottled beers will be served at the place. I am embarrassed because, at some point in the evening, I've dirtied my hands and feet -- in fact, they're almost black in color. This is mortifying, as I've noticed my messy appearance right before meeting the big man himself.

Note: Emeril irritates me in real life, but it would be sweet if he took my restaurant concept and ran with it.

I am a professional competitive eater. My partner (a very thin Japanese man) and I are training for an event that will occur in two weeks - it's a brat-eating contest, and we want to be well prepared. We start off with a large Caesar salad split between us. The salad was made in an industrial-sized mixing bowl, and it looks like it can hold maybe ten gallons. After we scarf the salad down easily, we begin to eat ice cream. It's flavored with chocolate and peanut butter, and we're eating out of a fifteen gallon cardboard carton, similar to the ones they have in ice cream shops, only bigger. Ice cream is one of my favorite foods to eat, so I'm wolfing it down the hatch much faster than my partner. Suddenly, a Mr. Miyagi-like character steps out of the shadows and raps my partner on the head with a cane. This coach character lets my partner know in no uncertain terms that if he falls behind me again, he will be severely punished.

I'm in a huge grocery store. They've got a full refrigerated aisle (both sides) devoted to cheese. I don't understand why anyone would need such a huge grocery store -- I've only gone into the store to get some milk, and the store is so huge that I can't find the dairy section. I did, however, find the huge walls of cheese.

I woke up a lot last night, so I had several distinct dreams, but I've got little to no recall this morning.

I have been away from my apartment for several days, and I'm returning home after a long drive. I'm really hungry, so I reach in the fruit bowl to grab an apple. Unfortunately, all of the fruit is extremely rotten and smelly. It all has to be thrown out. I am depressed, and I'm still hungry for breakfast.

Scott just bought this sandwich for $2. He is very proud of the fact that the sandwich was so cheap, and he keeps bragging about the deal that he got. After he eats the sandwich, he starts vomiting uncontrollably. Everywhere.

That's all I got.

I am cooking in a woman's kitchen. One of my friends had volunteered to help this woman, but he backed out at the last minute, leaving me to pick up the slack. The woman is cooking for a large family, and she is an Iranian-born Muslim, so I'm unfamiliar with all of the recipes and some of the ingredients. Trying to help this woman is a complete nightmare; she's so bossy and she likes to emphasize all of the things I'm doing wrong, all of the problems I'm having. However, when we serve the finished meal to a table of twenty-five, I feel pride ... and relief.

I only remember snippets of my other dreams last night, but:
- I am hanging out with a crowd from my old high school, and we are walking in Madison. Even though I know the city better than anyone, no one will listen to me when I try to give them better directions.
- A huge storm is brewing off in the distance. The clouds are making gorgeous formations -- everything looks incredible. I want to take pictures of the sky, but no one with me has brought a camera.
- I think I reinvented one of my fellow high school graduates as an incredibly attractive man. We were flirting nicely with each other, hanging out. It was fun.

I've got little to nothing about this dream. Scott and I are driving around looking for a restaurant that's got one of those carts on Library Mall, Kakilima. It's an Indonesian food cart I've heard great things about. I have no idea whether they have a real restaurant location or not. We're both getting frustrated because not matter how long or far we drive, we can't find the damn place.