the heartaker

George and I had a great happy-hour pool-game/pitcher of beer before meeting our friends for dinner. Mike was to meet me at around 9:30, but he got bored, and bless his heart he watched all of karaoke.

The emcee had me do the first song.

Neil no longer bought me drinks.

He probably recognized Mike as my "buddy" who came in to rescue me from our "date". He acted cool, though.

Here's Mike, kiddos, cause I know you're dying to know:

I sat on the steps of Memorial Hall yesterday having a smoke with Amelia and Lelena and it came up that I've been spending a lot of time with Mike lately.

"You know he's leaving, right?"

I gave myself a minute to let my first reaction simmer down, then I said,

"All the more reason to spend as much time as possible with him before he goes."

He himself said something to the extent of, "Heather's boyfriend is in Germany, Amelia is going to Louisianna to see a boy, and Ashley's boyfriend is 3 years ahead of her..."

Words like "boyfriend" are not exchanged between us, of course, but the difference is nomenclature, and not semantics.

Tonight is dinner with the girls. I'm going to try to cook either some Indian or Thai food. I have no idea about how to prepare either, though, really.

Last night I dreamed I was being attacked by wild dogs. The whole town was. Not Bloomington, though, some other town. The dogs were ripping through the town, and total anahilation was inevitable. The townspeople considered it some sort of historic honor to be devoured, and they stood out in their yards awaiting their turn.

The dogs ripped through the crowd in random streaks, and at one point I was sliced across my cheek by a fang or claw, but I had not been the target. Someone took my picture for posterity. Many people photographed, for whomever found our remains.

I suggested that we defend ourselves, or at least lock ourselves inside. The people ridiculed me for being so foolish to think I could change the outcome of this rampage. I obviously had no idea about the horror of these persistent dogs destroying my home just to mutilate and kill the inhabitants.

They told me about how the dogs would outlast me, and I'd die slowly, stifled in a locked room, before they eventually broke through the doors and windows and killed me finally. But I'd die either way.

So I ought to make it fast.

It was better for the future of the town if we just stood in the yard and let the dogs eat us than if we let them destroy every building, too.

It was good to wake up today.