i don’t usually sleep very well, in fact i never have. my entire life i have been a tosser and a turner, waking up every few hours, having fits of insomnia and such, or just generally having insomnia. what little sleep i do get is usually filled with very vivid dreams that i almost always remember when i wake up. the other night i dreamt that i was attending an event my friend bobby had organized. i was expecting music and was surprised when i entered the space and the show consisted of a series of tunnels with high walls on either side, all painted a very pristine white (gallery white in fact), with pictures and diagrams of healthy ecosystems projected on the walls, i believe mainly focusing on freshwater habitats for wildlife. the tunnels also had a recording playing that was discussing the benefits of a healthy ecosystem and environment, in a voice that vaguely sounded like an npr correspondent. the bottom three feet of the space were filled with water and the types of creatures that you would find in fresh water, although we were informed that none of them were poisonous. the goal of this event was to make it from the beginning of the tunnels to the end, all the while swimming with the fishes. upon completion you were awarded a cloth lunch bag that was imported from california and normally retailed for $3. after picking out my lunch bag (i chose a light blue with small flowers on it) my other friend john sat beside me to chat and offer me some guacamole he had made. in the corner of the room there was an old man laying on a cot looking quite sad. i looked up at the man’s wall and noticed a bulletin board. on the bulletin board a pair of underwear were tacked up that looked suspiciously like patrick’s but had john’s web address written on the inner waist band. john had been staying with us for several days and had borrowed some clothes from patrick. so i inquired into the whereabouts of such clothes. he told me that the underwear i was seeing were in fact belonging to patrick, but the old man had wanted his web address and he had written it on the underwear and gave this to the man. as the man looked so sad, and those underwear seemed to bring him joy so i figured he may as well keep them. so i asked about the other 2 pairs that had been borrowed. john looked at me and said, well that’s an interesting story, and i’m afraid that i can’t return those either. the second had been stolen by an art teacher who had turned them in to a mold for a clay tile, that looked like a relief of, well you guessed it, underwear. ok, so what about the third i asked? well. . . and john hesitated before looking around to make sure that we were not being overheard and revealed that those pair were on the lam as they were wanted for questioning by the police. at this point i was promptly woken by a garbage truck thundering down the road. so i never found out what exactly the underwear had done, or seen, to be in such a predicament. i saw my friend john the next day and told him the details of my dream. i think part of me was hoping that he would have that missing piece of information about the third pair of underwear. he just laughed instead and told me i should write it down.