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Thursday, November 03, 2005 |
Nightmares Are Dreams Too
I have rather simple dreams, for I'm not really all that smart or sophisticated. One of them has been the run-in on the street with a bunch of girls. I see it happen all the time in Koreatown, or just hanging with the cousin, just walking and talking on the street, and then *bump*, the lucky bastards run into a pack of girls they know. As I don't really hang with girls (or anybody for that matter) much anymore, this minor dream has moved from impractical to pipe-dream. Until, that is, it happened to me on Saterday. Finishing up a photostroll with the visiting Ty (flickr's Fubuki), I had wandered into Union Square in search of textbook for tutoring gig, when I heard my name being called. Only it's never my name, and certainly never me, and I don't know why I bother looking at all anymore, but look I do anyway. Across the street I see some girls, and again they're calling my name. Obviously I must be mishearing them call for their friend "Jane" or "Jamie" or even "Jean", happens all the time. Except for the part where they are waving at me to cross the street and join them. I wait a few minutes, naturally, because there are some people in front of me, and they must be the people in question. A theory that's shot down pretty quickly when those people walk away in totally different directions. Ah, mistaken identity then, that's happened on more then a few occasions, so cross the street and brace for the embarassment. Unfortunately, they're still addressing me by name, and now asking if I recognize them. At this point Panic has decided to take charge of the situation, and I quickly begin to step through the girls I've dated recently, if you can call what I do dating (I don't, btw). The hat is obscuring the face, but the voice is similar to A., if you overlook the fact that it's not her voice and the reason I don't see her anymore is because she stopped returning my calls. Plus, these are not her roommates, and I'm supposed to know them too. For a guy as lonely as I, you would figure that I would have girls' names and faces burned deep withing my mind. But I don't. I forget people very easily, and it's not that rare to run into people who know me, and I don't know them. The frustrating part is that there are some people, cute people, for the life of me I still can't remember how or where I know from. The frustration is greatly eased by the fact that I've also forgotten who it is I've forgotten about. But that voice is so familier ... And then, too many minutes too late, the circuits light up and I remember. I can't believe, because it's only been 8 and/or 12 years respectively since I've last seen them all. I had heard everyone was living everywhere else (this was 5 years ago), and this never ever happens to me, not even all those years ago when we would actually plan get-togethers. I, of course, misidentify everyone in embarassing fashion, and then join them while they wait for their husbands. It's like a dream - - that quickly (and oh so smoothly) transitions into a 4th degree grilling of where I've been and what I do (nothing and nothing, unfortunately), which is partly why I fell off the face of the world 8 years ago. I dodge as best as I can, tossing out a depressingly self-depricating comment or two along the way, but now I'm surrounded and the questions are coming too fast to skillfully deflect. Thankfully my good friend, wine, was on hand to help take away the pain. And some of the memories. Bad, embarassing memories. :: I woke up yesterday morning and started editing pictures from the photostroll, and found blurry photographic proof that it wasn't a food poisoning induced hallucination. I need more wine.

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