and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

I stink. I have the sweats. I'm incapacitated to the point of not being able to think straight.

Okay, so I did it again. Went to the wedding and sure, everyone loved the leisure suit (well - loved it in that "eww, that's gross, you're funny" sort of way.. except my friend's dad who collects old macintoshes and books about the vietnam war - I think he actually liked it).. sure, I was looking pretty pimpin' in my 4-weeks worth of beard scruff and my long hair and my rockin' heineiken suspenders. Sure, I was the life of the party (okay, maybe stretched that last one) but.. BUT.. I got to the bar - the one that was supposed to be open - and it was only free beer, free wine, or free margehritas. I hate margehritas so much that I don't even mind that I might be spelling the word wrong. It's not that they taste bad or anything, they're just way overrated. So when I got all excited to wet my whistle early with some jimmy beam on the rocks - you know, beer before liquor and all that - well, I was sorely disappointed. The beer was Sam Adams Summer or Bud Light - BUD LIGHT. Oh my fucking word are you kidding me. Don't even get me started on that FESTERING MAGGOT PILE of a beer. Don't even ask me what's wrong with it. Don't. The tirade will never end.

So I drank a lot of Sam's Summer and, again, I got plastered beyond belief. Lately I've been consuming far too much alcohol and not puking, which is a bit of an oddity because I've historically had a stomach that'll toss the cargo and the slightest hint of alcohol poisoning. I dunno, tolerance? It's a bummer though because I used to be a devout believer in the drink-lots-of-water-before-bed-and-you're-fine school of thought but now I get so drunk I can't even find my own name, let alone remember to drink some water.

And, and. I hit on my friend's younger sister mercilessly. So much so that I had to warn my friend -

"watch out, I'm drunk and your sister is adorable. I am about to get much drunker and hit on her A LOT."

My friend seemed to think it was fine. "You're only six years apart."

Thing is, I just dug her style. Sweet and nice and cute and I didn't have any real desire to jump her bones or get her in bed. Too young and too far away and too real for me - I'm not a relationship guy at this point. I'm a wreck, quite frankly. I just wanted to hang out with her and enjoy the company.

Which I did..

While hitting on her mercilessly.

So when my other friend pulled me aside and told me, candidly,

"Don't waste your time, dude"

I told him right back that it didn't matter. I told him I was so piss drunk I was going to do it anyway and I told him it wasn't a representation of my true self and that I was just happy to be alive - happy to be among friends - happy to be in a puke green leisure suit under a wedding tent on the Kennebec River with cute girls, a dance floor, an open bar, and him around me.

But I don't think he believed me.

Which is fine cause it turns out it was true - he was warning me because the fine looking young sister had, in fact, let him know that very night that she had a long standing crush on him and maybe they could do something about it. Beautiful. Dude deserves it far more than I do and he actually stopped drinking when he had too much, whereas I just kept going and going and going.

Somewhere in there I got a ride back to my parents house with a bunch of people and someone had the forethought to grab some 7-11 frozen pizzas and a 12 pack of Coors Light and we kept the party going a little later. The cute sister came with us. I was about lights out at this point but I tried to muster my third wind as I knew my parents were (okay, they were just at their camp) so we had the house to ourselves and it was - indeed - a beautiful night.

Gosh I love weddings. I think it's just because it's a huge party with booze and somehow my friends let their guards down and drink and have fun and there isn't any other event that brings them together - all the disparate groups - for such a fine fine fun evening.

So it's not the weddings I like - I guess it's the receptions.

Got up ass-early the next day and dragged myself the few hours up to the hiking spot - middle of nowhere in Maine - and had to hike in the burning sun with the mosquitos buzzing about following you wherever you step. Thunderstorm ran through in the afternoon dropping a bunch of rain on us and making the muddy trail even more so. Got into the shelter to find it full of young kiddies and bugs bugs more bugs galore. Got eaten alive. Finally fell asleep around 7am on Monday and Woke up around 9.. hiked some more.

Finally got home last night to a quiet apartment and slumped on the couch. Roommate - friend - came home and informed me that he'd hung out with the young sister once already since the wedding and would probably do so again today. Happy for him - happier than I've been for anyone for a long time. Really happy. Want to tell the girl not to take any shit from any guy ever because she is truly a sweet and nice girl - and beautiful to boot - but at the same time have that nasty tick in the back of my mind reminding me to let people live their lives - don't preach - don't sound like the old wiseman on the mount because - because - because - frankly I don't know shit.

Had thought the entire hiking trip about how I would find her phone number or email address and let her know how wonderful she was - not in a try-to-date-her way, because I knew that was not the right road to go down, but in a gee-if-someone-thought-such-nice-things-of-me-i-hope-they'd-tell-me way. Thought of the exact words I would type or say and was excited to maybe make someone else in this world smile, for once.. hoping that I could make it come across uncreepy and unassuming - probably not. Then got home and realized all of the actualities. Realized the friend/roommate and his situation. Realized everything and anything I could do now at this point would be out of line and realized she was - gasp - not so much upset or worried about my obnoxious behaviour at the wedding but was more embarrassed for ... for me.

I think that's a sign.

Oh ho hum, this life, it's a chore sometimes.

Going into it I knew it would be obnoxious and, in my mind, pretty funny.. which is why I warned people ahead of time as I saw the world starting to slide sideways each time I raised the beer cup to my mouth. I saw the writing on the wall and wanted to let everyone know ahead of time it was a big joke because jokes, well, jokes are funny and if no jokes what else do we got? Can't a guy get drunk at a wedding and have a little fun?

No, nobody was hurt. Nobody offended. Nobody slighted. Nobody wishing things weren't so.. whatever they were... but to know people thinking what they thought, maybe - gosh. Lighten up a little.

In bed before 1 AM last night for perhaps the first time in months and woke up this morning and my usual time. Body still not happy to get up. Body still not happy with the go-go-go of the summer and yet, three day work week and another heavy drinking weekend coming up. Hopefully that's it. Hopefully I'll be able to slow down real soon and just sit. somewhere. just sit.

Would like to just take a break from it all and just sit. Like a country time lemonade commercial, counting down the days till the end of summer - only the days would be endless, like Rainman rattling off the names of a phonebook - an almost neverending task.

Would like to hear someone, somewhere, a nice girl perhaps to tell me I'm a decent guy and maybe I shouldn't take any shit from any woman because I, too, don't deserve it. Would like to hear this so I could have proof that maybe this box I am living in - this prison cell inside my head that I am stuck in with hardly any room to breath or move or stretch out in - maybe this box's holes - eyes - maybe they're not just for looking out at the world but maybe, just maybe, someone somewhere, a nice girl perhaps, can see in and realizes my existence. Maybe, just maybe, I could find out that I exist on someone else's prison cell wall as part of their mural that is their perception of the world.

Forgot to talk about The Girl. Not the young sister or the bartendress but The Girl. Forgot to say earlier last week that she called, out of the blue after a few months of silence and she said

"been seeing all kinds of things this week that made me think of you."

and I had to bite my tongue not to say "I don't need to see things because I think of you every day."

"Oh, I gotta go, my roommate needs the phone but I'll call later this week because I didn't get to tell you everything I wanted to," she said ten minutes later as if words imply truth.

- of course the call never came -

and I had to bite my tongue not to say "I've come to terms with the fact that your words are like dandelion pollen on the wind - so ethereal as they float away that I don't even know if they really did exist, do exist, will exist. They mean nothing to me now as dandelion pollen means nothing to me. Once I was allergic, now it's just a sniffle."

I had to wonder, to myself, what it would be like if my words were like dandelion pollen to other people. Had to wonder what it would be like to have no one believe you and if she knew - realized. Had to think how much how very much it would hurt - right down to the core - if people did not feel my words because it's all I have to give.

Tried the guitar but there ain't a musical bone in my body.

Tried to sketch but I got club-foot in the hand.

Tried to be art in motion like Pelé on the soccer field but.. well maybe I have a club-foot too.

Tried to write and once, a long time ago, someone said "you write beautifully - don't ever stop, never.." and though they never came back I believed them and so now I just write about the allergies and dandelion pollen.

But heck, I guess in the end it's nothing a little drugs can't handle.