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

Lots and lots of epiphanies these days, but all little tiny ones that don't necessarily mean much until you weave them all together like a big quilt.. Which is to say, isn't that your every day? Life's little epiphanies getting woven together, maybe some vague sense of chronology, throw in a random quote here and there and maybe some old photos.. boom: human life.

Which is to say we're, all of us, just walking down this road smelling the flowers on the way and - I don't want to be cliche here at all but - we're maybe not always getting the idea that stopping and smelling the flowers on the way is what it's actually about.. That whole "life is a journey not a destination" crap. I still think people can miss the point on that one sometimes, even as obvious as it really is.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you should take the flower-smelling more seriously. I'm saying take it less seriously. If you take it seriously you're missing the goddamn point. You think there is a point... flawed! A point, what's that? It's a location. x, y, and z. It's a ..

destination.

didn't I just get over saying that there is no destination? I mean, there is a plot somewhere out there for you where you'll be taking a nice long nap in a big wooden box.. sure, that may be a literal destination, but I'm talking about a different plane here. I'm not talking about the brain here, I'm talking about the mind.

Without life's little chuckles you're just trolling for pike in the fucking rain. You can't tell me anyone likes trolling in the rain unless they know how to chuckle.

Fuck it. I can't say it nearly as well as Tom Robbins, who essentially had the same message in an essay printed in a recent Harper's (Sept 2004) called "In Defiance of Gravity". I can't find it online but there is a short worthwhile snippet over here.

Go read it, then come back. I have more to say.

Frankly, life is treating me quite well lately and it occurred to me that I'm always telling you how blessed I am - how nothing ever goes wrong for me. How nobody in my life gets sick or dies. How I've never had anything stolen. How I leave my doors unlocked.. but it's a big lie. This was one of my epiphanies. I lied about that. Last May, on my birthday in which I was out at a bar with friends and not a single friend bought me a beer, I also had my leather jacket stolen. My uncle has been diagnosed with some nasty form of ALS. These are not the facts of a care-free life. These are unfortunate..

but frankly it's alright. I can say that a little easier since it's not me with the ALS, sure.. but what I'm saying, in a wordy sort of way, is shit happens and what can you really do about it, really, other than have a good chuckle.

A guffaw if you're up to it.

Life isn't not so bad, it's pretty fucking good. Even at it's worst it's laughable. William Saroyan's The Human Comedy hit the nail on the head with it's raw depiction of human emotion. To cry is to laugh out loud as life plays you a prank.

I know I'm on this Guinness kick but I gotta say it again: BRILLIANT!

The trick is to enjoy life so much you're playing pranks on it. Which was, roughly, the impetus behind the self-inflicted "cock block" move I described on Friday. Knowing I have certain game (or lack of game) I knew I couldn't play the smooth operator. I was in no position to go ask a girl out who barely even knew me at her place of employment. Sure, I could try but it would never work. Never in a million years. Not for me, anyway. It's not in the cards. So like a joke as dying words, I shot myself in the foot. "I'm going to ask you out and you're going to say no." I took the human tragedy and rewrote it as the human comedy so to speak.

And it worked. Fortunately my roommate is vaguely friends with this girl and so when I came home friday evening I found out he'd had a talk with her.

"What you said was brilliant" he said, in his english jersey accent. "That's the best line I've ever heard. She told me it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her, it made her night." which, in the end, was all I'd hoped for.

Another little epiphany. Even drop dead gorgeous girls - the pedastal posse - the people in this world practically forced into being the darlings of society, even they need a pick me sometimes too. A flash of the eyes. But who was I to ruin it with the cheapness of a pickup line? So I did the only thing I could think of: remove the pick up from the line. By demanding she say no I took all the pressure off, which was another way of saying "I think you're fucking cool but you owe me nothing for that." I gave her a freeby.

Did I hope maybe I'd get something out of it? Was it sheer selflessness? Of course not.. personal gain was in the equation but the underlying message was pure. Honesty at it's most raw. In a subtle sort of way.

Maybe I think too much sometimes, in fact I most certainly do, but on this one I know I got it right. Some friends of mine think it was a bone-headed play and for a second I started to see what they were talking about. I started to think I screwed something up but then, again - an epiphany - I'm only cool if I think I am. I'm only right if I think I am. So I - in a rare occurance of standing by my actions - explained how in fact it was the best possible thing I could have done in that situation and it wasn't too long until the blinders came off and they started to see the whole picture and I could see the truth dawn on them like a sunrise coming up over the mountains.

So do I have a chance? If you're asking that question than I think maybe you missed my whole point. The real question to ask is does it matter? And the answer is no, of course it doesn't. In the famous words of popeye the sailor man I yam what I yam and the best I can do is yam it up as much as possible. The best I can do, the biggest favour I could do anyone, is to just be myself. I can't play the pickup game so don't even try. Don't put on a face you can't wear. If, and this is a big if, IF it would ever work then she'd have to dig on me, the real me, anything else is hopeless.

So when I saw her Friday night she came over and slipped her arm under mine and said "that was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, it really made my night, I wanted to thank you for that." We danced to 80's music and then we took a breather, sitting on the back of the bench at the bar, and she told me she liked to watch people dance and make fools of themselves but then she stopped, looked directly at me as if she were worried about what I might think of her and she said "But you know I'm a good person." She looked back and forth trying to see something in my eyes and I said "How do you know that?" and she replied "Because you wouldn't be sitting here talking to me if you didn't see it in me."

BRILLIANT!

This is a girl of my ilk. Woven from the same fabric. Seeing the world in a specific light. You all know I don't believe in fate or souls or any of that metaphysical crap but I do believe you can see someone, on rare occasions, and know - just from looking at them - know what they're about and I knew, walking into that bar the first time I saw her - I knew exactly what she was about and what she said to me, in her words of "But you know I'm a good person" was really I know you saw me - the real me.

I dunno. Maybe I should have kissed her. I'm an asshole so I didn't.. not living in the here and now like some would say I should have but I was too busy being real and for me, god I still get butterflies in my stomach the first time I ever kiss a girl I really dig and that takes some time, dealing with those butterflies, and so it just wasn't right, it wasn't me to bend down and take from her what I wanted - it's not my move at all. My move is to wait until there is a moment somewhere - maybe on a bench on the street or in a park or on a picnic table outside at a bar or leaning against my car at the end of the night - my move is to wait till that moment when both of us don't want it, we need it.. both of us, as a collective. Partners in crime, like we're stealing a little something from the human tragedy and giving it to the human comedy.. Robin hoods in our little space in time stealing the biggest joke you can from life - like giving it a big "fuck you" middle finger with a big happy grin plastered on your face, a happy "fuck you", jokingly, and with some verve.. and doing it with someone, not at them.

It hasn't happened yet but I think I might have already won.