I'm sleeping and there's a knock on the door. I walk to the door and say 'who is it?" and the person responds `It's Claire'. I don't know any Claires, so I look through the peephole and there's a tall woman, in her late 50's with gray hair. She's holding a lamp. She says `It's Claire' like she really knows me, so I don't bother saying `Claire who?' and instead start putting on my shorts and t-shirt.

After dressing, I open the door. Claire is holding a very artistically made lamp that she tells me was made by Lynda Williams (an old friend at San Francisco State) for me. The base was attached to the middle portion by some sort of rubber cement and she was rotating the base and playing with the glue. She looks admirably at the lamp and says `A woman made this. imagine that. A woman made this lamp with her own two hands...how exquisite! It's an unbelievably fantastic lamp which was made by a woman'. At this point, I feel very uncomfortable and don't quite know what to say, so instead, ask if she wants to come in and look at some of my antiques. She says no and tells me `since you moved away, we really don't get a chance to see each other very much'. I find this odd not only because I've never seen her before in my life but she says this in a very distant and cold tone.

At this point, two beautiful, blonde, busty women in short cutoff shorts and violins walk from the house next door onto the neighbor's lawn. They're carrying violins. and start playing `Elenor Rigby'. Claire looks at them, jumps up and says `Those wonderfully talented women are fantastic violin players!'. I just noticed that she astoundingly enough has a violin herself! She runs over to the neighbor's lawn and starts playing. I'm deeply saddened and feel rejected because not only did she leave me off the cuff, but she took the lamp with her. The lamp was supposed to be for me, and she simply left me and took it with her.

She starts playing the first few notes (which are simple) and I wonder how she's going to play the rest (which starts getting very complicated harmonically), but she pulls it off, and pulls it off well. Her violin playing was MUCH louder than the other two women, and much more skilled. Her violin even sounds better. When they're done, she leaves with the women to the neighbor's house. There's a wedding over there and apparently she wants to be there more than she wants to be with me.

I walk back into my house and notice that there's old bread (which was yummy at one point) in a glass pyrex baking dish. It might be a little stale, but it used to be very good bread. I notice that there's fresher bread on the counter which is just as yummy; even more yummy, but it's fresh and good. I plan on eating the old bread and storing the fresher bread in the pyrex dish. When I start eating the stale bread, I notice it's really soggy and smells bad. Apparently there's a little water in the pyrex and the stale bread was not only stale, but moldy. I didn't notice it. Ick.