dreams I've had of waking

Today I slept all day instead of going to work. Not the best idea, but I had a sick day left so I used it.

It was one of those times when I kept waking up but my dreams were better than my waking life.

Strangely they were more like nightmares. Dreams in which I'm in love like I used to be with dangerous women like I used to date. In fact, the girl in my dream was that one who encompassed the entirety of the women that had taken my heart hostage in ages 17-29 - the accumulation of the ideals I obsessed about in my youth.

She didn't have a name but her face was that of the girl I forgot.

We were only together for a month but I've never been more in awe. In the dream I was again within touching distance of someone I truly admired. A person who filled my mind and all I could do were things to ensure myself another dose of her.

She held power over me. My life was hers to destroy. She was not cruel, but was only in search of the truth. In my desire to please her I became a liar, and she sensed it right away. The more I understood her the more I saw my own failure to be worthy, and the harder I tried to hide it. My house was falling apart and she grew more distant.

In later years I learned how to put away the part of me that was vulnerable. I became too cool to fall in love. There were no longer women who could hold this power over me. I could see how foolish they all were, and none of them held that kind of purity. To fall in love is only to fall into co-dependence.

Armed with indifference I became the breaker of hearts. I sought my revenge and dealt it without pity.

For many years I've been logically detached from emotional risk. I've even grown successful as an independent man.

Lately though, the nostalgia has been creeping up through my subconscious. To be that passionate again - to see so much in someone that I could let them control my fate? Secretly I want to be at risk again. I want her to be able to hurt me, but she is gone.

There aren't women like that in my reality. I've banished them, it appears. What now?

I'll be on the lookout. Maybe she still exists but I just fail to see her. Maybe grown men don't have the luxury of being fragile.

I'm almost afraid to stay awake, because she'll disappear - my sleep will be dreamless again. I'm also afraid to go to sleep because she might be there, waiting. And I will have to risk losing her again.

If only I could reconcile my mind and heart. It's time for a deus ex machina from stage right.

the bad things I've done:

A la My Name is Earl, I have decided to write a list of the bad things I have done. Or more accurately - the entertaining bad things that I can remember and am willing to admit. I'll think about the whole apologizing thing later. Here goes:

1. In 1st grade, I wrote on a little slip of paper "Bill eats shit." I don't know why I did it - I don't think Bill really did eat shit. His breath smelled fine. Then I folded the paper and threw it on the floor. The teacher found it and was totally irate. She demanded to know who wrote it. I kept quiet. She picked on the only black girl in the class, who had a reputation for being 'bad'. Her name was Treva Mims. I will never forget Treva. She got a spanking for the 'shit' comment - which was my fault. This was in the South in the late 70's. I'm sorry Treva. Sorry for the spanking, and sorry for my contribution to the racial oppression of those times.

2. Also in first grade. We had 'reading group' which consisted of a circle of chairs and everyone reading the same book. My best friend in 1st grade was Gene. He was a black guy (I only point this out to dispel the appearance in post #1 that I am a racist). We liked to prank one another. One game was to sit down first, and when the other sat down, hold a pencil pointing up in their chair so that the person would get poked in the butt. We always got each other, and the victim would get a little poke and jump and it was really funny. One day I held out the pencil for Gene to sit on, but this time he sat down really hard. The sharp pencil went right into his ass cheek, and the tip broke off in his ass. He had to go to the hospital and have the pencil tip removed from his ass in what could not have been a fun experience. I'm sorry Gene, for once again promoting racial violence, and for harming your butt cheek.

3. Making fun of Randy. My Dad's best friend had a son my age (I was one day older). We of course, got set up as friends. We were always sent to play together. It was ok, Randy had some cool Lego's, but he was kinda weird. I remember one night we spent the night at my house, and were talking from bunk bed to bunk bed. He wanted to play a game. That game was "ding-a-ling sword fight," where we would duel it out with our whackers. He said the loser would get his "ding-a-ling" bitten by the winner. Then he said, maybe we should reverse that - the loser does the biting. I said maybe we should play a different game. He had a lot of that kind of stuff going on in his head. Another time he wanted us to shit on the floor of the public bathroom because somehow that would be funny. I don't think Randy's brain was a pleasant place.
I put up with it all through my childhood. I learned to deflect his strangeness and we had some good times. But by the time we got to high school, who you hung out with was of ultimate importance. I no longer wanted to be associated with the 'weird kid.' One day, when all the cool guys started making fun of Randy in gym class, I had to pick a side - defend my pal or go with the crowd. I think it was my comments that made him cry the most.
Randy ended up in private school because of stuff like that. I'm sorry Randy, for hurting you and failing to withstand the peer pressure. But, in reality you deserved some of it - you were fucking weird and needed to learn how to repress that shit.

4. Out doing my roommates: I've had a lot of roommates. Most of them were my best friend when we moved in together, and after we moved out I never spoke to them again. I used to be really hard on roommates - I expected them to be kind of perfect. I didn't put up with their shit, and I always had to feel superior. So a few of my roommates I one-upped a little too much. I got Jerome fired from our cooking job because I ratted him out for being a fuck-off (but hey - so was I!). I rubbed it in Manny's face that I did better in school than him. Looking back, both of those guys were selfish pricks who tried to either terrorize or fuck my girlfriend. I'm not sorry at all!

5. Stealing money from my mom. Just sad. She was horrible at keeping up with money, so my sister and I would routinely help ourselves to a fiver from her purse. Made up for all of that psychological torture she put us through to some extent, though.

6. Stealing liquor from my parents. They had a whole cabinet of liquor that they had received as gifts. They don't drink, so the cabinet just sat there stock full. Throughout high school, we slowly replaced all that liquor with water. That was just funny.

7. Made out with my neighbor's girlfriend. I had these great neighbors who were punk kids. The guy Jake was a really cool guy and he had a smokin' hot 18 year old girlfriend. We made out one day. She was so fucking hot - a very pretty punk rock girl. She let me know that I could have sex with her - even made an excuse to crash over at my side of the duplex one night - but I resisted. I think that makes it all right. I could have boned her and I didn't, solely because I didn't want to hurt Jake. I think that makes up for the other stuff. Damn she was hot though - I kinda wish I had...

8. Fucking my buddy's mom. That was a big mistake. We used to come visit Smoke in the town he lived in. Him, a roommate, and his mom lived in a big house. We would go visit for a weekend and it would be a 72 hour party. We had parties that became legends. One weekend at about 4am, we were all starting to drop out one by one. Russ had claimed the couch, and I wanted to go to sleep, too - so I called the EZ chair. Smoke's mom was a little bit of a MILF, and always partied with us. We all knew someone was going to do the deed some day. When I called the EZ chair that night she said 'no, you can sleep in my room.' I was actually hammered enough to think that I was just going to sleep. That didn't happen. Apparently the whole house heard us going at it. The next morning was the worst I have ever felt. It took 2 years to work up the courage to talk to Smoke again. He, being the coolest guy in the universe, forgave me. I let him punch me, and he didn't even hit me that hard. We were never the same though. Smoke, I am truly sorry for that. No one should have to hear their pal banging their mom. Thanks for not killing me with a chainsaw or something.

9. Being a pussy with my girlfriend: I had a really cool, really hot girlfriend when I was 19. She was 20, and had a really strong personality. I became very whipped, and let her dominate me. I was in "wuv" with her big time. When she finally dumped me for being such a girly-man, I cried and begged for her to take me back for hours. No man should ever act like that. After that, she started dating my boss, and I slept with her roommate. That's how we got over each other I think. Sorry, Victoria - you deserved a really alpha guy to be a stud for you. Thanks for emotionally beating the shit out of me for being a pussy, though. I needed it. You would be proud of how much I evolved. These days I do the dumping.

10. Dissing my Dad when he was sick: My Dad had a couple of heart attacks. After the second one, he had a triple bypass. He was homebound for six months or so. A lot of times I told him I would come over and hang out with him, but slept in and didn't make it there. I was doing a lot of drugs and drinking a lot back then. He really got hurt the times I didn't show up. I still feel rotten about that. I wish I could make it up to him. I just try to be there for him now, and let him know that I do love and appreciate him. I really love my Dad. I hope you know that, Dad. I hope it comes through despite my fuckhead nature.

That's all for tonight. These weren't as funny as I had hoped. It was cathartic, though.

Turns out that many scientists believe that people can sense emotional events in the future. This reminds me of another story from my days at DoDo Bird's sports bar and grill.

I was dating a girl who was much older than me. When you are 17 and your girlfriend is 21, it kinda makes you the man amongst your buddies. I, however, was very inexperienced in relationships. Inexperienced meaning that I had never had one before, which means I was head over heels in 'wuv' with her.

She worked at the steakhouse I had just left for the new job. When you work in restaurants, you don't get off work until 2am because you have to clean up all night. Usually there is a party after that, too. Restaurant staff become night owls real quick.

But this night, I had off. I was still a senior in high school and was asleep at home when I got a phone call. It was my girlfriend's sister, worried that she hadn't made it home. It was about 4am and they lived a half hour out of town. She was really freaked out and got me freaked out with all of her freaking out. I decided to drive around and look for my girlfriend. I went to her work - no one there. I went to my work since she was a friend of my friends there - nobody. I drove to the hospital and they didn't have her. I was getting worried. I just started driving around.

Well, as it happened, I was driving down the frontage road along side the interstate in our part of town. As I approached a barren little turn off, suddenly I knew she was down that road. I had never driven down that particular road (it was a dead end, a place people went to make out in their cars sometimes). I didn't even know where the road went. I just suddenly knew she was there. It was an unquestionable fact in my mind. I've never had a premonition like that before, or since. I just knew.

So, I turned down the road. I'm really freaked about her being gone without calling - she never forgot to call her family if she was going to be late. I'm halfway expecting to find her dead. As I get to the end of the little road, my headlights pick up her little red car. The lights are off and the windows are all steamed up. I park, and get out with my headlights fully illuminating the car. I look in to see her in the passenger seat and my best friend at the wheel. I knew he always had a crush on her. She looks like she is getting dressed really fast. I yell at them to open the door. They don't. I yell again. They look totally freaked out. I'm yelling my head off at them because I just found my girl cheating on me with my best friend after spending all night worrying about where she was. They still won't open the door, and are yelling back at me to leave. I'm getting madder and madder, and in a final redneck fit of rage -

I start beating the fuck out of the windshield. Pounding it. Glass shattering everywhere. Wailing away at it until my hand is a bloody mess. I was just so pissed that they wouldn't even open the door when I busted them.

Finally, my friend Jarome opens the door and gets out.

"Craig? Holy fuck! It's Craig!" he says. "What are you doing?"

I stop. "You didn't know it was me?"

"No. We couldn't see anything with your damn headlights on. Just a silhouette. What's wrong with you?"

She gets out and is crying and wants to hug me.

"What's wrong?" I say, "I just busted you fucking my girlfriend and you want to know why I'm mad?"

"Dude - we were just talking."

I turn to her - "But you were getting dressed when I pulled up."

"I was just putting my socks on. My feet were aching after a long night at work. We saw you and thought some maniac was coming to harass us. We wanted to leave, but you parked in the way."

Me: "Oh. What the hell are you doing out here then?"

Her: "Talking about you. I've been feeling bad about us and I wanted to get Jarome's opinion about what's going on since he is your best friend. We've been talking for two hours."

Me: "Oh. Uh, sorry about the windshield."

I guess they were telling the truth. It sure sounded legit in the conversations that followed. They were both really concerned about me. I had to call my Dad to come get me after I took her home and let her have my car since I broke hers. A half hour drive with your dad after beating the shit out of a car is a strange scene. He was really cool about it though. Didn't really even ask me about it. Just talked about how he sees deer on this part of the highway all the time, etc. That was a relief - I was so drained. Oh, and bringing her home to her parents was not too fun either. But they were cool too. Her mom is a nurse and she bandaged up my hand. I guess everybody sympathized with me after I told them how it all happened.