ugh... I just woke up from two-and-a-half hours of solid heavy dreaming. And all of it had to do with my annoyances, small fears, small hurts, and self-imposed restrictions. My mind's still kind of feeling thick.

Some things that happened:

This guy Tom that I had a date with about a month ago was briefly in it, I think. As I was falling asleep, I had thought about how we were both cool people, but how if it weren't for our friends we'd have nothing to talk about. He was in it.

I guess I had gone out with a bunch of people. Some were my close friends and we were with a large group of random people that we had met that night, but some of those people I had known in high school (Joey Devine). There was one guy I was flirting with, everyone else was really drunk, and my mind had fuzzy logic, too, though I never drink myself drunk. I kept feeling and acting the responsible but dumb drunk, and being embarrased about it because I don't get drunk, and I hate being less capable than I know myself to be.

As we were getting into our cars, the guy that looked like Tom picked up a baseball bat from the side of the road and swung it, intentionally, at my passenger side lock. Which shattered, and bits of it flew off. He was just being an asshole video games drunk--you know, the kind of drunk where you think nothing you do has consequences, where you just fuck shit up and say hurtful things to people and make a general ass of yourself because you have no sense of consequences.

I was MAD pissed. There was hardly anything I could say to him. What was I gonna do, fight him to larn him a lesson? Alex was in the driver's seat, Yaniv was in the back, and I went into the passenger's and shut the door, and as we were driving away, I said, "You fucking drunk. I hope you hurt when you wake up tomorrow. I hope you hurt this bad," as I held up the pieces of the shattered lock. His face looked like he got the message. I was cursing him.

So we'd been in SF, and we were going to head home, but Yaniv suggested we swing by someplace that could fix the lock. So Alex drove around and found us a place. Total role reversal. In waking life, it would be me who had the driver's seat and the presence of mind to suggest we get the lock fixed before we leave it somewhere overnight. They would be drunk as fuck, which I appeared to be.

So we found a place that was open so very late. A woman in the shop checked our fluids, then the dude in charge started working on the lock. He was a dude for sure. Bushy white beard, his shop had a bunch of cannabis plants in it. Total stoner. He told me the lock would cost two bucks to fix. I was deeply surprised, but who was I to blow aginst the wind?

My lock was a strange mechanism that seemed to involve tiny LED's. He was taking them out and rewiring it? As he was doing that, he was rolling me some joints. I saw what he was doing and told him ixnay on the pot. Told him I used to smoke it, but I don't anymore at all. He said as he arranged them, "You don't understand, these are nun's joints," by which I'm sure he meant You're dreaming, you dork, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Although I've smoked pot before in a dream, and it made me even stoopider.

Then when it was time to pay for the lock, I was like, Two dollars, right? And he looked at me was like, "Did I say two dollars? I meant 88 dollars." And this was more like real-life prices, but it seemed to cost so much that I was shocked and dismayed. But I payed it with my credit card.

The next day I was at a big dinner with all the same people. We were all telling stories and stuff, you know, discusseratin', and for some reason I felt fearfully boring. That is one of my fears, to have people find me boring. So I started telling the story about last night, there was this crazy dude, because how could that story be boring? But I kept fucking it up in the telling, and people's faces were arranged in fake curiosity. I felt SO lame.

The rest of the little details would make this REALLY long, so I'll stop here. There were a bunch of other things I wanted to write about, but this is enough for one entry.

My head still feels really weird, really thick from sleep. I feel like how I'd feel when I was really small after an afternoon nap.

7:36 p.m. 2003-09-09�