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| On the crest of a wave.All that money is good for is traveling. Canada, Indiana, North Carolina... next year, hopefully... Germany, here I come. I am working on "The Minder" again. Started in August 1999, haven't finished the series yet. I'm almost there, I swear. Give me another five years or so. A conundrum: They want me to put my hair in a bun at the deli. How am I supposed to do that? I have to call up that dude in India with the fifteen-foot-long dreds and ask him how he does it. The health department never cared, but for some reason, my bosses do.
I've never met a hair clip or a scrunchie that could contain my lustrous locks.
Earning money for hair ties and plane tickets.
Yeah, biotch. 
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| I am not doing enough.I just got my job back at the deli. The new deli. The Dippin' Deli. No, seriously, that's really what it's called. And on the back of my shirt it says, "Get your licks at the Dippin' Deli, Vernfield, PA." No, that's not the title of a dirty movie that I am in, I swear. And it's just ironic that there's a strip club down the street.
I am glad that I have my job back, and school is going well, but I don't feel that I am dedicating enough time to my writing. I also don't see how Laura and I are going to get our lit mag off the ground if I don't have the internet at my house.
It would be really convenient if I could forego sleep and eating, then I would have time for everything. But then I would end up like that girl who ODed on espresso on a college campus and had to get her stomach pumped.
No deal, man. No doing.
P.S. Wizard World was awesome and my comic book collection is growing exponentially. Now I have two insurance policies that can be sold for lots of money: my hair and my comic books. | | |
| Tiger.My dream began somewhat normally. I was camping with Robby and the kids from school. Then I was at Q-Funk and nobody was around except some shopkeepers. They were setting up and wandering the halls and eating oily fried foods.
Down the hall came a huge striped tiger. I knew that it was looking for me. A Native American man, possibly in his late thirties to early forties, was walking down the hallway. He looked dejected, lost in thought, but at the same time he appeared to not have a care in the world.
I ran to him. "Please, help me!" I cried. "There's a tiger coming after me!" We went into a small shop and hid. He stood with his back to the hallway where the tiger was looking for me. I stood in front of him, in the shadows, against him. For some reason, he kissed me. It wasn't a totally sexual kiss; it was very affectionate. He was good company and a good protector, and I knew that he would hide me from the tiger forever if I wanted him to.
The tiger was lurking in the hall and I knew that it would never go away. The Indian man was there for me; he wasn't going to let anything happen to me. At the same time, I suddenly realized that this was something that I had to take care of on my own. I couldn't rely on him forever, because there was no point. The tiger would always be there, no matter what he did.
So I ran.
I ran down the hall, leaving the man behind. The tiger spotted me and gave chase. I was terrified. I knew that if the tiger caught me, he would consume me, and I assumed that that would be a bad thing. I acted on instinct. I ran out of the building and across a grassy field. Soon, I was running under tall trees. The sun was beating down on me and I was naked. The tiger didn't let up. I decided that I needed to fly, so I tried it.
I attempted to control the outcome of my dream. I imagined into existence these fantastic white feathery wings. I forced these wings to lift me into the air, above the trees. Despite my mental control, I kept dipping down from the sky, and whenever I grew close enough, the tiger would snap at my heels. Then I would fly a little bit higher. The tiger never stopped running.
Eventually, I reached an interstate. I wanted to be protected, confined. So I imagined my car on the interstate, and I flew above the road until I saw it, and I jumped, and I landed in the driver's seat. Then I was driving my car, and I was protected by a metal shell, and I was temporarily safe, temporarily in control.
The dream ended as I drove down the road as fast as I could, surrounded by other cars that were driving equally fast. Despite this, I knew that the tiger was still chasing me, and that he would never give up.
The tiger will never give up on me; he will always be behind me, watching me. And when I step out of the door, away from the comfort of my universe, he will be there to consume me.
I think that the next time I dream of the tiger, I will let him have me. | | |
| It's a far cry from reality.I just want to drift into another world, where I have wings, and stand on a broken bridge, staring into the water.
I've been having a lot of strange dreams lately, and they usually disappoint me when I wake up. Waking up is never a joy. I don't wish to exist in this reality, and I don't... but I still have to experience it.
I'm getting that itch to create, and then to destroy. I want to travel again. I guess I will, next week... but not far enough. Canada isn't far enough. Nevada and California are far enough. Germany is far enough. Perhaps next time. It sounds as though a trip to Germany may be in my near future, perhaps next year. Now you know why I haven't gotten an apartment yet. I would never be able to travel if I had an apartment.
I'm feeling kind of lonely, and very tired. Extremely tired. Of many things. I miss a good friend of mine, and I am really bummed that he hasn't returned any of my calls.
The world is humming with mediocrity, and I don't care. 
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| Terry Pratchett......Discusses his Alzheimer's. | | |
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