I had a dream last night and it was so incredibly vivid that it still feels real.

I was with Batgirl and Matty and at first we were in some sort of stadium for a concert. Before the show, we kept moving from one set of seats to another, trying to find the best viewing angle. After bouncing back and forth a few times, we ended up getting in trouble by the security people, so we ended up having to run.

So we ran into the heart of the stadium, flying down hallways and bounding down stairs. At some point, we weren't in the stadium anymore.

We were in some sort of hospital.

We made it down to the ground floor and came bursting out of a pair of glass doors.

It was just getting dark outside.

There was about fifty yards of parking lot and then a treeline. All we had to do was make it to those trees and we'd be home free.

We ran.

I heard something behind us.

There were about ten cops, all with guns drawn.

They started shooting.

I yelled for Matty and Batgirl to drop to the ground, and they did.

I wasn't so lucky.

I got shot right in my lower back.

I cried out and slammed to the ground.

I told Matty and Batgirl that I'd thought I'd been shot, and they took a quick peek at my back and confirmed.

The police started shouting something at us.

Matty and Batgirl kept low to the ground and crawled off into the trees, leaving me behind.

The police made their way towards me, cautiously. And slowly. So incredibly slowly. I could feel the blood pumping out of the hole in my back, soaking my shirt.

I closed my eyes and just concentrated on my breathing..... in and out... in and out... there was nothing else in the world except that... in and out....

Finally they made it to me.

They rolled me over on to my back so they could get a look at who I was. Once they saw my face, they realized that they didn't shoot who they thought they did.

At this point, someone else came bursting from those same double doors I had moments earlier. Once again, the police opened fire.

They missed.

All of them.

So they started chasing the person.

In and out.... in and out.... breathing slow and deep... waiting for someone to help me.... I could feel the bullet in my back. I could physically feel it there inside me.

After what seemed like an eternity, a couple of nurses emerged from the hospital with a gurney. They put me on it and wheeled me inside.

I was in a bright white hospital room.

The doctor walked in and said a few things, I don't know what.

All I could feel was the fire in my back.

The doctor made a joke and the nurses laughed, then left the room.

I could feel the doctor's hand on my back, pressing down near where the bullet went in, trying to find where it went.

I opened my eyes and saw who the doctor was.

It was Batgirl.

The nurse at the door, who had brought me in, was Matty.

Batgirl stuck a finger into the hole in my back and pulled out the bullet.

I screamed.

And then I woke up, about ten minutes before my alarm went off.

My back still hurts.

My Fifth Proposal--Revisited

Here's a thing about me that you may or may not have noticed. I always seem to fall in love with the wrong people. Its not that there is anything wrong wtih the people I fall for--not really, anyway. The problem always seems to be when I fall in love with them. My timing is absolutely attrocious and has been my entire life.

I fell in love with Jackie my freshman year of college. It was 1997. I loved wearing jeans, didn't own a single pair of khaki pants, wore more flannel shirts than polos and wore my Teva sandles no matter what the weather was. Needless to say, I was not looking to impress any ladies at the time. I was all about being with my friends and having a good time. I made it an entire week at the university before I found someone I wanted to be with. There was one problem, though. Mark found her first.

That's actually how I met Jackie. Mark brought her along as his date to my birthday dinner that year. He had just met her a few days before and thought it would be cool to introduce her to all of our friends at the same time. I almost feel sorry for the girl. You would too if you knew all of my friends, trust me. As it happened, Jackie and I sat next to each other and talked the entire night. At one point, she even said that she was cold, so I took off my flannel and gave it to her to wear.

Needless to say, we hit it off pretty well. Turns out she and Mark did too, though. Not about to interfere with Mark, I accepted my place as Just-a-Friend.

Jackie and I started hanging out more and more as the year went on. I can honestly say that I'm not sure exactly how it started, but to this day I'm glad it did. One night, we found ourselves walking from one side of campus to the other. Instead of heading to our dorms, we just kept going. I have absolutely no idea what we talked about that first night, or any of the thousands of other nights for that matter, but I just know that we kept walking and talking through the night. Actually, what we talked about doesn't even matter. Not in the slightest bit. It was how we felt as we were walking that really mattered. We were free. Free of all our friends, all our families, all our stress and all our worreis. We would talk about whatever popped up be it serious or silly and no matter what, we knew the other person wouldn't judge or make fun--well, ok, so we'd make fun of each other all the time, it was all in good spirit, though.

One day Jackie and I were hanging out in the common area of our dorm, shooting some pool. We did that a lot. Neither of us were very good, but it was right down stairs and it was free. Hard to argue with that. Well, on this particular day, Jackie was telling me about her ex boyfriend from high school. Eventually, that lead us to talk about Mark, which was always a little tricky for me. Afterall, Mark and I had been friends for years and here I was, crushing on his girlfriend. Well, on that particular day, Jackie started talking about how she didn't think that Mark would be able to commit to her.

I had just racked the billiard balls and was about to break when she said that she thought he might dump her.

I looked up from the table and into her eyes and told her that he would be crazy to ever let her go.

She smiled.

Without breaking our eye contact, I sent the cueball flying for my Break. Smack! Crash! And I smiled back. It was perfect. I couldn't have set that situation up better if I tried.

Her eyes darted to the table, then back to me. Then back to the table. Then back to me. And she started laughing.

I looked to the table to find that my break was not as impressive as I'd hoped. I mostly missed. It was actually kind of sad. I started cracking up.

I re-racked and let her break. We finished the game while talking about other things. When we were finished, though, we sat down on a bench near the pool table. We just sat there, not saying much. I looked over my shoulder at her, and she was looking back at me.

I gave her a little half smile and took her hand in mine.

My heart was racing out of my chest.

I couldn't believe what I was doing. I was actually holding her hand. I looked down, just to make sure. Yep. I was holding her hand. Crap. What now?

I looked back up into her eyes and said, If neither of us are married in fifteen years we should so get hitched.

She pulled her hand away from mine and hit me, laughing. At that, we decided to call it an afternoon and went back up to our rooms.

I realize that wasn't much of a proposal, but looking back on it, if she would have said that we didn't have to wait fifteen years, I would have said OK and gotten married on the spot. To this day we are still good friends. She did get married, though. And not to me, so it looks like that ship has sailed.

I do miss our walks, though.

A Little's Enough

I never said that I was perfect. I only said that I would try.

I'm on my knees... whispering please.. please... please don't go.

It feels like we've been here before. standing right where we are.

Looking up at the same bright stars.

I can already see in your eyes that you forgive me for being me

......

....

.

.....

Ok. Enough of that. it's not going anywhere. It feels like I'm broken tonight. The right words aren't coming to me. I can't say whatever it is that inisde me that needs to be said.

I am on fire, though... I can say that. And it would be true. Not in the most literal sense, but in the sense that I'm so freakin' hot that it feels like I could just melt away... I think that's the secret to how I've been losing weight lately... I've been burning everything up. I was wearing a t-shirt when I started typing this.... it has since smoldered away into ashes. And even those ashes are gone now. completely incinerated.

It's kind of scary, actually. I mean, it's just after Christmas and I'm going to have to put on my AC. That's just not right.

....

There are times when I don't know when to stop.

Sometimes I keep going.

I keep doing things

I keep saying things

I keep making tiny adjustments, tiny corrections

Trying to make things just right.

Really, though, most of that isn't necissary.

Most times, a little really is enough.

I think I just inspired myself to stop writing tonight.

Because, really, I could have just said that I loved you and that would have been enough.

Good night, dear reader.... and may you sleep the sleep of children and dream of things for which there are no words.

I can't believe this is all happening.

I don't know what to do.

I don't know... I just don't... I don't know.

Monday was... beyond words.

Like, these are words. Right here. Lots of them. Well, not lots yet... but words nonetheless... now, look twenty feet to the right of these words. That's how beyond words it was.

For serious.

I can honestly say that it was everything I hoped it would be. It's like I can still feel ... well, we won't get in to that.

But then it was over.

And I was driving home.

And I won't see Batgirl again.

I mean, I'll see her again someday... but not for a long while. Months at best. So... I don't know. I mean, I really... but I'm not sure if.... and even if she.... could it really be....? I mean.... argh. I just don't know.

Have you ever noticed how hard it is to be vague and meaningful and emotional and guarded all at the same time? I mean, I want to tell you everything, but I can't. Not right now.

Things need to be settled first.

All in due time, my friends.... all in due time.

One more thing... real quick.. before I go...

I can't stop thinking about Batgirl. it's driving me nuts. :)

I dont' care if you don't... I don't care if you don't.... I don't care if you don't care....
I don't care if you odn't.. I don't care if you don't... I don't care if you don't care...

...

I want a cookie.

Seriously. I do.

A peanut butter cookie.

From Subway.

Not cooked all the way.

But warm.

mmm....

I love cookies.

You know what I miss? I miss Oreos. I do realize that I can just go out and buy some and eat some and they'll be delicious, but it's not the same. So I guess it's not really the Oreo that I'm missing... it's the memories I have of the times I used to eat them as a kid.

Do you remember Jim Henson's Storyteller series? It was on back in '88... That was the year I first moved down to Florida... The show opened with the following line "When people told themselves their past with stories, explained their present with stories, foretold the future with stories, the best place by the fire was kept for... The Storyteller. "



And that's what it was... an old guy and his dog telling stories by a fire. I used to watch it with my dad and sister every week it was on. We would turn off all the lights in the house and then the three of us would pile on the couch to watch. We would each have a mug of cold milk and we would share a box of Oreos.

The show itself was amazing, and, really, so was the experience of watching it as a family.

Good stuff.

It makes me feel all warm inside.

Here, Let me share a bit of it with you before I go to bed...

hmm... it won't let me embed it, so I'll just have to give you a link.

Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oF5KBsbSoMg

dragons, popsicles, racecars, christmas trees, hula-hoops, outerspace. ♥

I ask for something to write about and this is what I get. Sheesh. What am I supposed to do with that?

I guess we'll find out....

...

Chip looked over his shoulder and smiled at what he saw. His entire crew was moving so fluidly they looked as if each person knew exactly what the other was thinking. He had trained them for moments just like this, though. Chip began to smile as he felt the air begin to crackle; the tell-tale sign that his ship, The Luku, was about to enter hyperspace. Just a few more seconds and they would be free, just another ship sailing through the infinite depths of outerspace.

Nothing is ever that easy, though, and Chip knew it. His current cargo was worth more than the ship that was transporting it, and the Luku was no cheap freighter. A quick scan of the shps radar showed a slight irregularity moving closer and moving quickly. It could only be Fa' Ching of the infamous Dragons. The way the "irregularity" moved was purposeful, though not direct, so as not to draw attention to itself.

Chip barked orders at his crew and they moved without thinking, without questioning. As the Luku's captain, Chip had brought his crew through many tight spaces and not a single blemish on their criminal records. As a smuggler and a thief, Chip was a legend. As a ship's captain, he was both revered and loved for both his respect for his crew and for his ability to assess a situation and react appropriately before anyone else had even registered the need to act.

....

Yeah, I'm not feeling that space cowboy story. But... for those of you who were in to it, the precious cargo was going to be a racecar stolen from Fa' Ching's private collection. Not sure where I was going to go with that, though. I've never attempted to write anything taking place in space, so... who knows.

...

A quick hop, skip and a jump back to Earth brings us to the next section of this blog.... Many of you know that I've been a little under the weather, lately. That's old news. Well, for some reason, whenever I get sick, everyone I know seems to have the perfect remedy for whatever ails me. The best remedy, suggested to me many times over the years by a friend who shall remain nameless to protect his innocence, is to receieve oral sex. In his words, "Fuck time... It's Head that cures all wounds!" And really, I'm not sure I can argue with that...

I did hear something new this time, though. A friend of mine suggested I grab a combo pack of dayquil and nyquil (which I did) and a popsicle (which I didn't.) Apparently the popsicle is another form of cure-all. I can see how a nice fruity popsicle could help soothe the throat. But for me, whenever I think of popsicles... at least now, I think of this:



And really, I'm okay with that... I just equate popsicles with girls pleasuring themselves.

Huh... Now that I'm thinking about that... I guess I do feel a little bit better.

Guess that works after all.

...

Throughout my life I have has some amazing friends. It's really true. I honestly can't think of a single time in my life that I didn't have at least one friend that I'd take a bullet for. Not in a vital organ or anything, but in an appendage, for sure. Along with those friends have come some pretty amazing families, too. There have even been a couple of families that have taken me in as one of their own.

When I was in Cape Coral, though, my best friend, David's, mom really took me in. They lived just down the street, so I was over there all the time. I remember when I first met them. It was before they'd actually moved in to the neighborhood. David and his mom were in the neighborhood visiting her sister, and I saw them sitting outside one day. I'd never seen this new kid before, so invited him to come play with us down at the tree-fort. His mom said it was okay, so he came with. We ended up back at his aunt's place later that afternoon where his mom made us lunch. I must have made quite the impression, because I was invited over to their place the next weekend.

Not long after that, they moved in to the house at the end of my block. I spent so much time there over the next few years, it was kind of ridiculous. To this day, David's mom is the only parent of a friend that I call by her actual name. Every other parent of a friend I call Mr or Mrs Whoever. But David's mom was Jane.

I still remember what it was that really made me feel a part of that family, though. It was the first year they lived in the neighborhood. Christmas. Not too big of a deal for me... you know, being Jewish and all... but Jane invited me over to help decorate their Christmas tree. I'd never done that before, so I said sure. The three of us threaded popcorn onto fishing line, strung lights in neat circles around the tree and placed ornaments in a way that would look both random but also with purpose. By the end of the night, the tree looked perfect. Or so I thought. Jane brought out the final ornaments. The first was one that she made when she was in first grade, the second was one that was given to David by his grandparents for his first Christmas, and the third was one that she made for me for my first Christmas with them.

I decorated their tree with them every year after that. Even my Junior year of high school when David and I weren't as close as we had been before, I got the phone call letting me know it was time to decorate and I was there to do it.

...

awww... that was nice. I hate to follow that up with a trite story about hula-hoops. 'Though I do have a fond memory of a hula hoop contest during Project Graduation.... but it's just not the same.

Anyways, It's quite warm here, so I think I'm going to close up the windows and turn on the AC. In December. Sheesh.

You are a butterfly. Beautiful, precious and unique unto yourself.

Beauty is such a strange beast, though. It means so many different things to so many different people. And really, I'm just one person, but it means so many different things to me, too.

There is so much beauty in the world and there is so much beauty in ourselves and in each other, we just have to choose to see it.

I'm not saying that there aren't ugly things or ugly people... I'm just saying that sometimes we have to look past all the ugliness in the world and focus on the beauty.

Recently, I was told that I am in love with love.

I can't agree more.

Nothing in this world makes me happier than being happy.

Strange, I know, but it's true.

Right now, you make me happy.

You really do.

And I love you for that.

In the past, there's always been one big thing that's driven me over the edge from Like to Love, whether it was a love of baseball, a wild nature or just the way she fit in my arms... there was always that one thing that did me in.

Here's the thing about you, though.... there is no one thing.... there are just so many tiny things that make you perfect. I'll spare you the "How doth I love thee, let me count the ways" speech, but it's defitely there.

I can barely even open my eyes right now. I should just post this before it's too late, even though it seems like such a week place to end off.

Don't worry, though! I'll be back soon enough....