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.

I've still been able to recall some of my dreams, but midterms and laziness have kept me from writing them down. Here are some from the last few days.

1. (last night) I'm riding my bike around the city. It feels a lot like the freedom and lightness you feel when you're flying in a dream, and I can't get enough. However, I've got some homework to finish before the next day of school, so I have to get back home. I head to the bike rack across from my apartment and am about to struggle (as I always do) to lock the bike up correctly when a young boy running by grabs the "u" part of my u-lock and takes off down State Street. I am furious, and I follow my first instinct; I chase that brat down and get my lock back. He appears to be embarrassed and runs away from me. However, as I walk back to the bike rack, I see the kid jump into a truck parked in the nearby cul-de-sac. His father is throwing my bike in the truckbed. They speed off. When I call the cops with his license plate number, they thank me, telling me that this scam has been going on for months.

2. I am at work in an office building, where I am apparently filling some sort of clerical position during the summer. My boss is a singularly creepy individual; it's almost like he's a vampire dressing up to play human. There are no fangs or anything else that would be a dead giveaway, but he's pale and reclusive, preferring to work in an almost totally dark office (which seems as if it would be less than conducive to completion of said work). Today, he asks me to clean out his aquarium, which is placed in a window so that the fish don't have to adopt his light-disavowing habits. The aquarium is almost as creepy as the boss. Big beakers have been placed in the tank, floating above the water level, and they're filled with strange food products. One beaker's full of marinara sauce, while another has a couple of raw eggs in the bottom. Obviously, all of this food is rotting in the sun, and while fish don't really express emotion in a detectable way, I'm pretty sure that they're less than happy with their environmental situation. I'm unsure if I should just clean the tank, or if I should also clean up these bizarre food beakers. In an effort to reduce overall office creepiness, I throw out the beakers and clean the aquarium. My boss compliments me on my cleaning skills, and I fear that I'll be valued more as a maid than as an intellectual equal. I hate working for this misogynistic vampire guy, dammit. (Weird dream, huh?)

3. I'm buying a small bag of pot from a local dealer. He tells me to weigh out the bag on my own, and when I go to use the scale, I am positive that it's rigged to display a heavier than actual value. I am shocked that my supplier is trying to scam me, so I confront him. As he makes a claim for his innocence, I hear sirens outside his apartment. I take my suspiciously nlight bag, throw some money down, and sprint for the back door. If what I think is about to go down does, I might as well get some weed out of the situation.

I want to throw a party. Bizarrely, instead of holding my fete at my apartment or at Courtney's place, I decide to party at Scott's. This is a bad idea for several reasons. First, everyone who attends has to commute to the party from Madison. Furthermore, Scott lives in a building with many families and children. The music from my party is so loud that we're almost immediately called in to the cops. When the police arrive, I go out in the hallway to talk to them. I'm nervous, as there are several underage drinkers at my party; I don't want them or Scott to get busted. We negotiate a deal, I turn the music down, and the fuzz leaves.

Later in the evening, I hear a knock at the door. When I answer, a gangly, dopey-looking kid nervously says hello and shoves some papers into my hands. He's handed me his resume; he's applying for the opening at my lab, and he somehow tracked me down at Scott's. I have a stern talking-to with this kid and send him packing. Who would track down a prospective employer at 11:30 during a weekend?