Two nights ago I had a dream that Grammy on my mother's side, who has since deceased, was going to sleep on a blanket in my studio. She was laying like against the wall with her back to me, facing my desk and all my CD cases and stuff, and I was covering her up so that she wouldn't be cold in the night, because it was the dead heat of summer and we had the air conditioner on. And she was just snoring away, in the loud way she usually snored. And I think my mother and I were singing to her or something. But I thought it was kind of odd, I guess, in that thinking about how their family up there is so much different from this family here. Tonight, last night I had a dream that my mother and I were going to see Brian Adams at a small place like a restaurant, and it was sort of an intimate concert thing. And we were going there on the bike, and Sheryl, Sandra and Sam and Jack and Polly were supposed to meet us because we had a bunch of tickets. And we were already starting to get there late, and we were like walking the tandem bike across 22nd Avenue, and I was telling her, "The least you can do is get me to a concert on time, you know." And then we got back on and rode the rest of the way, and we went in the concert and it was just about starting, and they started with, "Everything I Do I Do For You." By the time we got in, they were doing a bunch of songs I didn't even know, and I was thinking how this concert was going to be recorded, so I tapped the level down nine or ten notches on the mini disc recorder so with all the booming and banging it wouldn't make it clip over. And my mother went outside and called the people on the cell phone to tell them that 16th Street was closed, 5th Street was closed, and 2nd Street was closed because they were doing some massive construction. And at the concert they were like, the band was sitting up there with a blue background, and for, I saw for whatever reason, I was doing like some really sick stuff in front of everybody and trying not to make it obvious. But it was such a habit. And I don't remember too much more. Oh, I know, the concert and all the sound and stuff evolved into just something in our bedroom that was playing on a little boom box, and then I woke up.