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poet, technologist, cynic, father of five, child of chaos, punker, prankster, patriot, punster, leftist, latino, japanophile, audiophile, beer drinker, quiche eater, dog walker, soft talker, deep thinker, shallow sleeper, introvert, covert operative in a parallel universe.

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    extra special bitter
    hops are bitter. life is bitter. coincidence?

    Monday, April 25, 2011

    dream sequence - part 21

    I was attending a one-day Creative Writing workshop. The class met on the stage of a large auditorium, cluttered with broken spotlights and discarded manuscripts. I sat next to a nervous young woman who was muttering incoherently under her breath.

    A middle-aged woman strode confidently into the room. In a booming voice she announced “You are a female comic. Tomorrow you are headlining at ’Catch a Rising Star’ for the very first time. Don’t think — just write. You have five minutes.”

    I wrote. In 24 hours I will be standing in front of 400 people I’ve never met, and I will be funny. I will be loose and relaxed, on top of my game. I’ve worked for this. I will leave nothing to chance. One-night stands: check. Late periods: check. The names men give to their body parts: check. I know I’m going to kill.

    “This is impossible,” my neighbor said to no one in particular. I ignored her.

    First things first — coffee. I know I should have woken up hours ago, but my hangover won that argument. That guy who was hitting on me last night was definitely cute, but I'm glad I left when I did.

    My neighbor looked at my paper and asked bluntly “what are you writing?”

    “I’m writing the story of your life.”

    She was not amused.

    “I’m writing the first thing that comes to my head before I have a chance to think about it.”

    “But that’s bullshit.”

    “Write that it’s bullshit. Write that it’s impossible. That’s what this is all about.”

    A light went on in her head.

    “Time’s up!”

     

    Sunday, April 10, 2011

    dream sequence - part 20

    I was lucid enough to know that I was still working for my current employer in New England, but I had no idea why I was in Chicago, much less why I was showing up at my Uncle’s office building at 3 in the morning. A line had already formed outside for the grand opening of a Café on the ground floor of the building. The chef’s name and cartoon-like image had been freshly painted on the glass for all to see.

    Once I realized what was happening, I pushed past the crowd and into the main lobby of the building. The guard was surprised to see me — that’s if he could see me at all. His eyes had no pupils or irises — I could see only the white of his eyes. Very creepy. He called my uncle at home to get permission for me to enter the building, checked my identification (apparently), and let me through.

    I stood in my Uncle’s high-rise office and basked in the view of downtown Chicago at night. Then I found a place to plug in my laptop and got down to work.

    Fast-forward to lunch time. Apparently I’ve bonded with my co-workers, who don’t seem at all surprised to see me there. The badge I brought from my current employer seems to be recognized by the security staff and the card readers alike. Stranger still, I have yet to see my Uncle. Walking through the office with some of my new comrades, I notice that the Chef/Owner of the new Café is standing at the entrance of the dining area holding a stack of menus — and that the Café is empty...

     

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