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sweet dreams are made of this - 2000-04-30
It has been a long, and winding weekend, but one that wound through a pretty, awe inspiring horizon... I am oh-so tired though. Last night I experienced both ends of the fun spectrum, I think. First we went square dancing, which-I-legitimately-enjoyed. Then we went to the Abstract, and, well, it was a fun Sandra Bullock-esque night, meaning I don't know if I need to drink again for 28 Days. A few of us left over from the bar settled down afterwards, and just, well, talked, and it reached strange, personal levels, I think. But, what's just as strange is, I don't think anybody said anything they regret right now, and I don't think they said anything they didn't honestly believe... Which is the best kind of conversation, very provoking, very honest, yet still safe... I jogged home in a stupour, after what has been professed as a "bitchfest" with Dustin (we walked together part of the way), and then I settled into my bed, prepared for drunken dreams... which, well, sucked. They were dully realistic. Something about myself and a bunch of guys going on a fast food scavenger hunt in Kitchener. I had to get a tray of four coffees in styrofoam cups, which I did... And then stuff was going to get interesting, but my phone rang, and woke me up, which seems to be a pattern with my dreams nowadays. (Sad, because it leaves a whole section on my website blank...) --- I have urges to burn CDs now... There are three on my short list... Maybe I'll get to that, and leave you alone. In the meantime, I want you to dream (not necessarily drunk), and I want you to enjoy it, and respect it, as if it were a film you wrote, directed and starred in... Can you do that?
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