I dreamed about the nanotech future. I don't remember the rest. I'm at John Flanagan's appartment in SanFrancisco. He was a little biting last night, mocked me for living in the middle of nowhere and said I had no style. That part was funny because it shows our different reality maps. John would be mortified to think he had no style, and I'd be embarrassed if someone thought I'd bothered to craft my appearance. He immediately tried to say he was only kidding, but it was so plain that he wasn't that it made me laugh. John saw that my laughter was real, that I hadn't been offended, and joined right in laughing. He made me sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch. Wouldn't even discuss it.