My date with Slyph

I told Slyph I would be leaving to meet her at 5PM, and at 4:45 she called, anxiously wanting to know if I was still coming. She probably wanted to know if she should continue to make herself all gussied up.

At 5 I went out to my car, it wouldn't start... I called Slyph right away to give my appologies that I could not make it, she wasn't there so I left a message. I went inside to get a number for a tow truck, and decided to try the car once more before calling.
As the car revved into life, the phone rang. I didn't know which to be more excited for, the running car or that Slyph was returning my call.
"I'm on my way," I exclaimed joyfully, and took off for the highway.

Traffic was light, and I made great time, until I got off the highway.
All roads lead to Hell, and Grayslake is Hell. I think it took me about another half hour to go a mile... I attempted to clean my windshield as I sit impatiently awaiting my first view of the voluptuous Slyph, the wiper lever broke off in my hand. I prayed this was not an omen of things to come.

I found Slyph right where she said she'd be. We exchanged hugs and kissed each other on the cheek (we didn't want to rush things).

Dinner at the Dog n' Suds was amazing. Slyph insisted on paying for both of us... an act I would soon learn to regret.

After dinner we sailed out on the lake in a pontoon boat. Talking and looking longingly into each others eyes, I put my jacket around her shoulders to keep her warm in the cool autumn air. Our fingers entwined around each others as our lips met in passionate embrace.

The boat docked, we sat near the pier... she'd given me a glass of iced tea she'd made to quench my thirst. We talked for a time... I didn't want to push things too far on our first date, I told her I had a lovely evening, and I should be going.

As I stood to leave, I felt feint. The world swam past slowly, and I'd realized that Slyph had slipped me a mickey in my iced tea. I remember the ground rushing up to meet me...

I awoke, covered by a warm down comforter. I noticed right away that my clothes were gone, and I could feel Slyphs full breasts pressed against my back and her hand gently touching my chest.
I tried to get away, but my movements notified her of my being awake. She forced me down with all her might.
"Just lay still and let me take care of everything," she whispered in her sultry voice.

Reluctantly, I gave in to temptation... all the while thinking to myself, "it could be worse, Slyph could be a man."

grrr... 4 times now I've lost a blog entry to the foibles of the internet!

This time it will be very short and very quick.... and we'll see what happens.

I've screwed things up between M and I. I get stupid and say things I don't mean, without thinking of the concequences.
I know this wouldn't happen if I could see her more often... but that cannot be.
I hope that she can forgive me for the stupid things I said... and even though she already knows how I feel, I will tell her again here:
M, I love you and trust you with all my heart.... I always will.

Originally this entry was MUCH longer... then a little short... then much shorter... than almost this short... let's see if Blogger will post this one.

Spirited Away

Once again, Disney can't come up with an original idea, so what do they do... buy the distribution rights for anime.
I'll happily say that Spirited Away is, by far, the best movie Disney's released... it's a cartoon, and NO DAMN SINGING!!
Well, not until the closing credits....

But who cares about the movie, the theater we chose to see it in was the best theater in the universe!!
And for the $9 ticket matinee price, it ought to be!
The first thing, which was strange, was that the concession stand worked like a cafeteria. I ordered a medium popcorn and medium coke, the woman handed me the popcorn and I had to get my own coke... what's up with that?
Then, as you move down the line all the candy you could ever want, just sitting there, finding it's way into my pockets before I got to the register.... of course, the two items I did pay for cost more than the price of the ticket... sheesh.
And behind the cafeteria-popcorn counter.... there's a piano bar, complete with it's own fancy shmancy restaraunt. I have no idea where the food came from... but people were getting it from somewhere.

Inside the theater... stadium seating of course, velvet lined, seriously cussioned seats and arm rests. Enough leg room for my 5'11" lankey body to sit comfortably in. And not once did my feet stick to the floor!!

There were two drawbacks to this theater... the restrooms were poorly designed (how can that be, you ask? You just have to go and see for yourself, it's undescribable) and the ticket windows have no sort of corral, so it's mob rules to the extreme.

If you're ever in the Chicago area, lemme know and I'll take you to the CineArts 6 in fabulous downtown Evanston, trust me, it's worth the price of a plane ticket.

This was the absolute last thing I ever expected a t'rool to say.










Why is he speaking sylvan?

Three Dreams

This is a series of dreams I had in April of 1993 (or so). It's long, so go grab a sandwich or something to tide you over.

Friday Night
I was living in my parents house. I don't know where they were, but they were gone. I couldn't afford the mortgage on my own, so I decided to find a roommate. The roommate ended up being an extremely beautiful girl, around my age.
All these dreams went into intense detail, and I saw all the everyday events that went on between us. As the days and weeks went by, I started to have some pretty strong feelings for this girl. I decided not to persue any kind of romance with her, because we'd become good friends, and I didn't want to jeapordize that.
More weeks went by, and finally I could take it no more. I'd decided to tell her of my ever growing feelings....
She came home to tell me that she had a date with Phil. Phil is a friend of mine, and she could certainly do better than him!
Full of jealously, I followed them on their date. He took her to McDonald's, made her pay her own way, and then they sat at opposite ends of the restaraunt!
I watched through the window, appalled at this. They talked to each other casually, in normal speaking voices, across the building.
This made no sense to me, and I raced in to give Phil a piece of my mind... I told him how she deserved better treatment, but he just ignored me, as did she.
Dejected, I left.

Later that night, I went to Phil's apartment (which was actually my apartment at the time). The door was open and I went inside to find him on the balcony. He was laying there with his hands behind his head, and a big stupid grin on his face.
I asked him how the date went... he just stayed there with the grin.
I asked him if he kissed her... he kept grinning, motionless.
I asked if he'd slept with her... big stupid grin.
I stormed out of there, slamming the door behind, which was when I woke up.

I was full of jealous rage when I woke. If Phil was there, I know I would have punched him in the nose. Thankfully, he wasn't in my bed.
That day, however, I did have a lot of people over at my place, Phil was one of them... I went off on him about how he stole the woman I loved, or something like that.
Luckily all my friends think I'm nuts, and just attributed it to that.

Saturday Night
I was in my old high school. The girl from the first dream was chasing me... she wanted to kill me, I was sure of it. I ran as fast as I could, trying to find the exit, but it wasn't enough. She caught up to me... she wasn't trying to kill me...
We had been in love before... her brother framed her for a murder, and she was sent to jail. She'd just gotten out, and now her brother was trying to kill both of us. To make things worse, he was a warewolf. We could head his snarling and drooling as he chased us. We ran, hand in hand, for what seemed like forever.
The halls were filled with huge Rube Goldbergesque contraptions we had to climb through. We would pause occasionally to catch our breath and to hug and kiss.
Her brother was quickly upon us, and we managed to stay only a step a head of him, his drool splashing onto our feet....
After what seemed to be an eternity, we found the door out... it was open and sunlight began to pour in. We both dove out of the building as he took one last snap at our heels.

I woke as I hit the ground, out of breath and my heart pounding so hard it hurt.
I awoke so happy... certain that I'd found my true love. When I realized it was a dream the day became very depressing.

Sunday Night
In most of my dreams, I see things first person. When I have a nightmare, I see it third person. The last two dreams were first person... this one was third person.
I was still working at Toys R Us. But it was part grocery store too.
It was late, the store was closing. I was putting away some fish sticks that had fallen on the floor (yes, they were sold individually, and unwrapped). I took my time doing this, a sense of dread filled me, I didn't want to go home.
I made putting the fishsticks away last all night. And finally around midnight I'd decided that I should go home, but I did not want to.
It was a beautiful night, and I decided to walk, more to avoid getting home than anything else.
When I arrived at my apartment building (a building I'd never seen in the real world), I couldn't go upstairs to the apartment, so I sat in the lobby and played the complimentary Sega Genesis until the sun started to rise.
I put the controller down, slowly stood up and walked to the elevator. Every step was painful as I knew I was about to face my worst fear.
Upstairs the elevator doors opened, and at the end of the hall I could see my apartment door was ajar.
I could see myself like in the movies, where the person stays still but the hallway gets longer.... I walked, slow short steps.
I reached the door, and stood there, waiting... finally I began to push it open, slowly.
The door flew open, inside a man in a black suit and tie flashed a badge.
There were also a dozen other people inside, zipping up body bags and wiping blood off the walls. Some bodies still sit limp in the chairs.
The man at the door told me that my wife had interrupted an international summit meeting with an automatic rifle... then took her own life, and they had proof that I'd taught her to do this.
I asked to see my wife, he led me to the bedroom. On the floor was a lumpy sheet, stained red with blood.
He pulled the sheet back, and underneath was the girl... her body riddled with bullet holes. I fell to the my knees and cried.... which was how I woke up, tears and all.


In the first two dreams, I never got a clear vision of her . Either she wouldn't look at me, or she was blurry. In the last dream, when the sheet was pulled back, I could see her in a terrifying vivid detail, her skin, her hair, her eyes, her lips, her hands... everything, all covered with blood that oozed through the bullet holes. And I still remember her perfectly, as she lie there, unmoving...

I believe, that for a time, I was psychic. I knew many things before they occurred. I took this as a sign. Someone was dead, or going to die... I looked for this girl everywhere, I scoured through newspapers looking for something.
I never found her.
It scared me because I really, truly felt as if I was in love with her.
My "psychic" ability ended with another dream, one of another girl I didn't know yet.


Years passed, and in time I found the dead girl from my dreams. I recognized her the second I saw her...
I've told few people that I'd found her.
She's still alive and well, from what I understand she's very happy. My dreams foretold what would happen between us. I can see each moment of those dreams as a part of our relationship. Her death in the dreams was her leaving me, no goodbye... she was just gone.
I forgive her for leaving me... not for her lack of telling me it was over.

But I wonder... was she really the girl from my dreams?
Is the similarities just part of my wild imagination?
I'd dreamt the second dream again, with a different cast of characters. What does that mean?

When I was psychic, I would dream things, and they came true. I foresaw my own death... in a dream where several other things came true. My death involves a horse, a letter, and a woman I know who's missing half a leg.
Or maybe it's a rebirth... death symbolizes change.

When I would have these dreams, I would know they were "different" but I could never quite figure out why, then the events would come true and it all clicked.
The three dreams... I always knew they were different. Stronger. Like my entire life had been leading up to those dreams.
I wonder if it's done, or if there is more to them. Maybe I'll know someday, maybe I won't. For now I'll keep my eyes open, and watch.

My creative juices have completely dried up.
They've been draining for quite some time, and I reallly thought I'd be flooded again by now. But... I can't even think about things to think about anymore.
I try to think about ideas for the role playing game I'm running, and there's nothing.
I try to think about the myriad of stories I'm writing... zip.
I think about songs I should be writing for Clan Lord... argh, nothing.
I try to think about M... well, I'm somewhat successful here. But it's all the same old thoughts, nothing new.

What I need, right now, is to be sick. I need a horible cold that I need to sleep for days to get rid of.
Why?
When I'm sick, I dream. Not just your ordinary, run-of-the-mill dreams... but dreams warped by lovecraftian imagry and horrifiying moments of pain and loss.
For some reason these dreams spark my imagination, and when I am finally well again my mind goes all over the place.
These dream are often lost shortly after I wake up, sometimes I can remember them for a day, but rarely longer.
I remember one truely terrifying dream involving a factory that made explosive baked alaska, and those little metal strips that you find on the street that fell off of street sweepers. For the life of me, I can't remember anything more of that dream.

I once had a dream that came in three parts... each night over a weekend. It began as the happiest moments ever... and became the worse. I remember this dream in extreme detail, and will write about it here sometime when I'm in the mood to actually write. Maybe if I write something I know, fiction will come easier... yes, I think that's what I'll do at work tomorrow when I'm sitting there bored out of my mind.

And to think... we keep blaming Philip Morris.

Today is my birthday, so I did what any warm blooded american male would do.
I put on a suit and went to a funeral. Of course this was after my cat tried to slit my wrist with his claw, he got the tendon good. And at some point after the funeral, at my cousin's house, I started getting a migraine. I still have it. I tried to sleep it off. No dice.
I didn't think it'd be possible to have a birthday worse than last years, when the entire country was still walking around like zombies wondering if we'd survive the day.

This birthday has one thing going for it though... I got a package yesterday from M. Full of stuff. Most importantly, a bottle of what she uses that makes her smell so nice, a wonderfully framed picture of herself, and a card, scented and written with words from her heart that makes my own heart flutter.
This was the greatest gift I've ever gotten, because I can feel what she was thinking when she decided to send it... the caring and the emotion.
She makes it wonderful to be alive. If she could only help me get rid of this damned migraine now....

Guess what mom.... Marshamallow Fruit Loops for dinner!
What do you think about that??

(What's malnutrition?)

One full week of proofreading catalog orders is done.
You wouldn't think you'd need to proofread an order from... but United Stationers has about 100 different order forms, and inevitably people screw it up. It's not just the orders I proofread, I have to look at the imprint they want on it (they supply it, and yet they screw it up), and 6 bazillion other things that can go wrong.

So far, I like it. Everyone else said they hated this job when they started it but have grown to love it. So I can only love it more, right?

------

If you go to the United Stationers website you can see the company logo. Believe it or not, in a recent poll, less than 25% of the corporate employee's knew what the logo was supposed to be.

Number of cute girls at old job: 1.
Number of cute girls at new job: at least 4, and I have't seen half the people in the building....
I love my new job!!

New job, Day 1

Well, I wouldn't say my new job is boring... but I spent the first hour standing at someone's desk talking, and the next 2.5 hours looking my company's catalouge. I even took an early lunch because I was so bored.

I finally convinced someone to show me how to do something... anything.
Holy Jehosephat! I think I'm in way over my head.... it's just proofreading orders for catalouges... exciting huh? But let me tell you, when a company makes 5,000 different catalouges (all for the same thing), it can be downright insane.

Being used to my old job, I try to hurry through everything. I hope I can break that habbit, because it can only get in the way here. It's quite complicated, but rushing can only get in the way.

At least the second half of the day didn't take as long as the first half... I'd swear it's only 2:00 at the time I write this.

Friday was such a great day.
Last day of being an accountant...
My bank put the money back (aside from the $112 they still plan to screw me for)....
Went out and partied like a monkey on steroids....
Came home, passed out, woke up, recaulked the bathtub... the perfect ending to a not so perfect job.

One more day... one more day....
I'm so tired. And will be out of it all weekend, recovering from my last nightmarish week of training my superiors.

I'm getting a 4% raise out of this promotion... if I'd stay where I was I'd get more, or at least I have every year for the last 8 years.
Still 4% and leaving is better than 5.5% and staying in that cess pool of favoritism (odd I'd say that since I'm most favorite #2).
Must sleep... tomorrow will be a very long day.

This last week of me being an accountant has been very stressful.
Having to train my supervisor how to ensure all accounts are in balance is quite an ordeal.

Today, around 3, I decided I needed another Pepsi. So I go to the cafeteria, shove my coins in the slot, press the button and listen to the can rattle around. Nothing came out, I reached my hand up, grabbed the can and yanked it out, splashing myself with a small amount of water...
"hmm... it must be pretty humid to have that much condensation so quickly," I thought to myself.
Then my neck started getting wet, and I looked to the ceiling to see if there was a leak.
Then my shirt started getting wet, and my arm, now my face, back to my shirt, my neck... what the...?

A teeny tiny hole was in the side of the can, aimed right at me. The perfect ending to an incredibly stressful day.
Thankfully I was pretty much done for the day, all stress was wiped away, and I was able to laugh at myself getting sticky by the second.