The Story...
As promised ... the story of Friday.
Overslept, hour late for work ... work ... then Deception and Betrayal with Dr. E.
Guest speakers -- Priest Monk Joachim and a Non-Denominational Bishop.
Class runs over. People bolt. Something about the fact that we were challenging their faith. Funny how the people who are most secure with their faith/religion are the first ones to run away when pressed on their belief system.
So Mike and I, Dr. E, the Priest Monk, Bishop and a couple of guys from class go to Hemingways for a couple drinks and to continue the discussion -- which by this point was going in about eight different directions at once. Seriously, if someone were to have tape recorded it and then diagramed it, it'd look like a three year old's drawing.
Five beers later (for me), we're all still smoking and drinking and eating and yelling to be heard as we debated the finer points of religion and lying and faith and belief systems and labels and all kinds of shit that I can't even remember now.
Priest Monk Joachim is amazing ... he's had and continues to live a life that you wouldn't believe is real if someone else told it to you.
Needless to say, the use of profanity was not something that was looked down upon ... cause the Priest Monk was swearing as much as I was ... including, when Dr. E went to get the car, then called him up on the cell fone to let us know he was out front (after having picked up the tab no less), Joachim pulls out his cell, says, "Watch this ... The FUCK YOU WANT!?"
Needless to say, everyone cracked up to the point where I thought beer and pita chips were gonna squirt out of my nose. Insanity.
It was one of those moment where you pull out of the situation and see, with clear eyes, that you are existing in that moment and that moment is really happening and it is perfect and beautiful and exactly what you imagined college would be like.
And then there was last night. That was just awesome goodness ... and clearly indicated. PANTS!
But that's another story for another night. I've been writing a paper all day and am completely brain dead.
But just one last thing. The other week I woke up from a rather weird dream where I was desperately trying to get back to Milton and I just couldn't get there. I could get anywhere else, but couldn't get home. And I just knew I HAD to get there and couldn't.
So I called home to see if everything was alright. Yeah, it was.
I had really bad anxiety all day to the point where I thought I was gonna freak out or was just crawling out of my skin -- due to the fact that I probably haven't eaten in two days and then went to Crazy Mocha and had two huge things of coffee after drinking gin last night. So I call home after I put some food in my gut. In the course of the hour and a half long conversation with mom, which always starts with, "How are things? How's Nana?"
This time, when I was telling her about my really bad anxiety today, I and asked if everything was alright, everything was. However, she asks if I remember that dream, which, of course, I still do ... vividly. Well it turns out that a day or so later when she went to take Nana to her doctor's appointment Nana was extremely weak and dizzy and about collapsed into her pantry.
Mom told me not to have anymore fucked up dreams.
I'd love to oblige. But I'll tell you what ... that kind of shit freaks me right the fuck out. I don't normally dream, and then when I do ... it's something bad. It's not precognition ... it's just this weird ... omen I guess ... I hope I'm not alone on this one. But I'll tell you what, it makes me afraid to sleep at night sometimes. Ok. Most nights.
Irrational fear, yes. Anyway. Piece.
Overslept, hour late for work ... work ... then Deception and Betrayal with Dr. E.
Guest speakers -- Priest Monk Joachim and a Non-Denominational Bishop.
Class runs over. People bolt. Something about the fact that we were challenging their faith. Funny how the people who are most secure with their faith/religion are the first ones to run away when pressed on their belief system.
So Mike and I, Dr. E, the Priest Monk, Bishop and a couple of guys from class go to Hemingways for a couple drinks and to continue the discussion -- which by this point was going in about eight different directions at once. Seriously, if someone were to have tape recorded it and then diagramed it, it'd look like a three year old's drawing.
Five beers later (for me), we're all still smoking and drinking and eating and yelling to be heard as we debated the finer points of religion and lying and faith and belief systems and labels and all kinds of shit that I can't even remember now.
Priest Monk Joachim is amazing ... he's had and continues to live a life that you wouldn't believe is real if someone else told it to you.
Needless to say, the use of profanity was not something that was looked down upon ... cause the Priest Monk was swearing as much as I was ... including, when Dr. E went to get the car, then called him up on the cell fone to let us know he was out front (after having picked up the tab no less), Joachim pulls out his cell, says, "Watch this ... The FUCK YOU WANT!?"
Needless to say, everyone cracked up to the point where I thought beer and pita chips were gonna squirt out of my nose. Insanity.
It was one of those moment where you pull out of the situation and see, with clear eyes, that you are existing in that moment and that moment is really happening and it is perfect and beautiful and exactly what you imagined college would be like.
And then there was last night. That was just awesome goodness ... and clearly indicated. PANTS!
But that's another story for another night. I've been writing a paper all day and am completely brain dead.
But just one last thing. The other week I woke up from a rather weird dream where I was desperately trying to get back to Milton and I just couldn't get there. I could get anywhere else, but couldn't get home. And I just knew I HAD to get there and couldn't.
So I called home to see if everything was alright. Yeah, it was.
I had really bad anxiety all day to the point where I thought I was gonna freak out or was just crawling out of my skin -- due to the fact that I probably haven't eaten in two days and then went to Crazy Mocha and had two huge things of coffee after drinking gin last night. So I call home after I put some food in my gut. In the course of the hour and a half long conversation with mom, which always starts with, "How are things? How's Nana?"
This time, when I was telling her about my really bad anxiety today, I and asked if everything was alright, everything was. However, she asks if I remember that dream, which, of course, I still do ... vividly. Well it turns out that a day or so later when she went to take Nana to her doctor's appointment Nana was extremely weak and dizzy and about collapsed into her pantry.
Mom told me not to have anymore fucked up dreams.
I'd love to oblige. But I'll tell you what ... that kind of shit freaks me right the fuck out. I don't normally dream, and then when I do ... it's something bad. It's not precognition ... it's just this weird ... omen I guess ... I hope I'm not alone on this one. But I'll tell you what, it makes me afraid to sleep at night sometimes. Ok. Most nights.
Irrational fear, yes. Anyway. Piece.