Last night I had a dream that I was writing a letter to President Bush about how "Blue Bird" scared me when I was younger and how there was a story that I imagined to be true in my dream that I wrote in the letter, but now that I'm awake, I know that it's not. And Mrs. Lake's kindergarten class, I dreamt that she used to play it and I used to get all up in arms, but she didn't. That was something else. But anyway, I was writing all this to President Bush. I don't know why I thought he'd care. I guess, I don't know. I started on a postcard and I transferred onto a piece of notebook paper. Dumb me -- I should have done the whole thing on the notebook paper. That's all I can remember.