Coming back from the mountains and we stop near Toro Park. An affluent neighborhood in the part of California known as The Pastures of Heaven. Peter Hustead is there walking around with the relaxed, self-important air of a Kennedy and somehow I just know that he's murdered the women in his family. Or was it my mom and sister? Intense midday heat.

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In a New Mexican grocery store with Rachel and we see Jamie walking quickly thru the aisles. Shouldn't she be in the bakery? Before we know it she's at our register and is ringing us up. I try to talk to her and be friendly but she keeps her eyes downcast and interacting is difficult because of a strange partition that is between us. Her blonde hair is immaculate.

Next Rachel and I are in another part of town, going into a restaurant that looks as if it was once was an ancient Hacienda. High vaulted ceilings like the Royal Hawaiian but in a traditional stucco color instead of salmon. I walk up to the counter and ask for a piece of foil so I can wrap up the last bit of a burrito that I'm carrying around in my left hand. The girls working there are adorable but become fuzzy and soft-focused the longer I look at them. The effect is like looking at a tenth-generation video tape. Pornography. One of them hands me a thin piece of butcher paper.

Then I walk into a large banquet hall and thru a door that is supposed to lead to the bathrooms. Inside is a series of hallways and strangely laid out empty rooms. A labyrinth. Making my way deeper into the building I'm not aware of the sensation of having to go to the bathroom but I start to shit myself. As it falls from the inside of my pant leg I realize that Joe Hanrahan is there behind me and he starts laughing maniacally as if to say, "now the tables are turned!" I start to run away but I can hear the echoing laughter everywhere I go. As it reaches an even higher register of hysteria I vault over an indoor balcony and drop slowly thru the air, landing in a dried up fountain. Joe shouts after me, "are you all right?" I'm surprised that I wasn't hurt in the fall but I don't respond. There is barely any light on this lower level and it feels like being in a tiny canyon. This building must go on forever.

Stirring...

Now back asleep I see Eliot at a table. He starts to talk about his pessimistic views on life and doing so with a sense of authority that is characteristically flimsy. Drunk again.

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Eating a salad in which there are the cut up pieces of an Armani silk tie.