All very strange . . . and then I turned the power on last night and it wouldn't boot up . . . gave me this strange error . . . something fatal, but now it's working fine and I've no idea what I did to fix it.

Visited Sam's new flat in my dreams last night. That was all very strange too. Like, I was there, wandering around, when suddenly I said to Sam, "You've moved, haven't you?" whick freaked Sam a bit, because he was like, "What you on about? I've moved from Sheffield, yes, but I haven't moved since then. This is the same place," and then proceeded to show me around. We got to the cellar and something very odd was going on down there. At first I thought it was that feeling you get when the dream's about to turn to a nightmare, as the atmosphere was kind of . . . thick, but it wasn't that. I couldn't put my finger on it . . . the atmosphere was just really heavy down there . . . it was difficult to move through . . . and it made my hair stand on end. Hmmmmmm. Ah well, at least I wasn't watching some guy munching through handfuls of bugs and parasites this time. I didn't like that. That was the same dream where I was within some torus-shaped underwater complex that was clearly in trouble . . . water was pouring in and people were running around, panicking everywhere. Fortunately, I had bumped into this guy who was able to bend metal with his bare hands. He stopped the water pouring into the room we had occupied (I think this happened in one of the Superman films), but I couldn't help but notice that he hadn't done a brilliant job; water was still coming in, just not much. Didn't Superman do a spot of welding with his laser beam eye things? Oh, it was an oil tanker, wasn't it? Ah yes. Last night's dream was dull. Wandering around Leeds, passed this record shop next door to a second-hand musical instrument shop (you know, amps, guitars, synths, stuff like that) and this guy stood next to me start blabbering on about . . . well, rubbish, really. He seemed to have his dad with him, who was mumbling about having lost some receipt for something and that he would have to go back somewhere to get his receipt. The shutters slowly lifted and the shop opened. First thing that hit me was the amount of echo machines the guy had for sale . . . then I noticed a load of nasty Casio keyboard, a couple of ancient but very heavy looking keyboards . . . then this weird Korg that had three strange glowing orbs to the left as some kind of glorified pitch wheel thingies. I started playing with the keyboard, getting weird noises out of it, when that guy who had been blabbering to me outside the shop kind of shuffled up to me and started tentatively pressing a few buttons too . . . then the owner suddenly announced, "Oh, I'm afraid I can't sell anything right now due to the ongoing 'issues' with one of our suppliers." I had no idea what he was on about. "See, they just cut off the electricity from time to time," the shuffling freak told me, "Really? Can they do that?" but I don't think I ever found out the answer, not that I was all that bothered.

so we drove over to Lancaster, leaving at about 12 o'clock? 1 o'clock? I dunno. Dropped Anna off at her mum's house and then popped into Booths for a few things . . . beer, wine, stuff like that. I bumped into Patrick there. Who's Patrick? Well, I used to work with Patrick, a very, very long time ago. It was at the laundry for, erm . . . Lancaster Health Authority? God knows . . . anyway, I (and Patrick and a few others) folded sheets, attached sheets to machines for folding and stuff like that. I must have been 16 or 17 at the time. Anyway, often when I'm back in Lancaster I bump into Patrick, but I don't think I've seen him for a couple of years now. Anyway . . . we went back to my parent's house, M**** and I, and sat around for a while, drinking beer, chatting to my mum, taking photographs of the family tree . . . blah, blah, blah. When my dad came back, we had a few sparklers and fireworks (well, one, actually . . . it was called 'Burning Bush') at around 17:25 . . . then we wandered into town to meet people. The plan was to meet Tania at 6pm at the, erm . . . John O'Gaunt, but it didn't open until 7pm (how crazy is that?) so we had to go to the Merchant's instead. I'm confused now . . . did Anna meet us at 7pm then? I know the meal was booked for 19:30. Erm . . . well, whatever. We were all (as in me, M****, Tarn and Anna) at the Merchant's at about 7pm (and, indeed, 19:28, as the time on these photographs states) and a bit over half an hour later we fought our way against crowds of people (all moving towards the firework display up at the Priory, I guess) towards Crows. M**** was going about the coloured, paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling . . . I tried to take pictures, but they didn't come out too well. At 9pm we met Darren and his new girlfriend, Kate, at the Merchant's (yes, I know, again). I'm not sure how late we left it, but after the Merchant's, still clutching my bottle of wine, we made our way towards Meredith's house for this party. I don't have any pictures of this . . . which is a shame, really. But hey . . . we left at about . . .