Elizabeth
Oct 21st

I grandmother,
more?

no G

Sniper,

jilopy


I'm not sure how it started, or if it was 2 dreams or one however...

I was at a table surrounded by many people and it was infused with the air of a shady casino, and felt as though there was a crowd around a roulette table, to which I was a part of. However it was track car racing of sorts. The cars were roughly 1/18th size, yet the track seemed much smaller. There were elaborate scales and self correction devices to keep the action going. On second thought, it could have been a hologram. For some reason it seemed like miniature banger racing.

The crowd I thought, turned out to only be a few and after the race there was one person across the table who won 20,000usd. The dealer/bookie said he'd get his money soon, that he had to send it away as to make sure everything was on the up and up, something about if he hypothetically lost and all. The winner was very understanding as all winners probably are. There was a joke in there about his wife, and what she would have done had he lost. I took it that he had a addiction to gambling, and that this could have been his way out, to fiscal redemption, but he was going to some how get ripped off.

I looked to my left and sitting in a stool at the same table, a bit hunched over with her head against her hand looking at the action was Elizabeth. Right next to me and I when I saw her, I was shocked. As many times before, I had to catch my breath, I forgot how to breath. She rolled her eyes as I made a motion, as though don't run off, I won't freak you out. She was aggravated by my hunt for her. (so it seemed). She had lost a lot of her accent (which I loved so dearly). I got in to small mundane conversation, everything I could do to hold myself back from grabbing her and hugging her, my long lost best friend.

I asked her how long she was going to stay and she said October 21st. I became internally histatic, that there was hope we could hang out, talk , closure. For some reason it seemed like almost a month, although it was November (or at lest felt like November).

I then looked across the room and saw my Grandmother (mother side) walking across the room and turned my head and said "you don't know me".

I then went up to my Grandmother and hugged her and by this time she was already at the table. I was on the verge of expecting waves and waves of family, however I think I only caught a glimpse of my Mother at the door. I told my Grandmother I was keeping an eye on I who showed up at the table, facing away. In reality I think he's 2 or 3, in the dream he was much younger. I told her I wanted to be sure he didn't win too much. After all so much money at a young age would change him, for the worse most likely.

There was something about a back room, then I think I was in a apartment (mine?)

I was on the first floor, the walls were a odd shade of green. It felt very 70's, and it was dingy, perhaps even filthy, but not messy. Outside a window, a few hundred yards away I saw a roof top sniper and two armed men that said sniper had dispatched, heading my way fast. I felt as though I had been through this a million times. I went over to the door, moving with a bit of urgency, yet confident I could take out all 3 would be assassins.

As I searched through my pockets I found various items, it was actually like a video game in that I had massive items on my person, yet relatively normal pockets. Eventually I became a bit frantic and found out there was no gun. I could not win this fight.

There was a old 40's-60's modified pick up at my side window just driving around, I assumed it was there's but it was moving back and forth, in odd motions as though the driver was drink. There was a dumpster as well. I Then grabbed the top of the window ledge , pulled my self up and swung my self forward in a semi frantic pace. The window may have been open but the screen was a bear. It was all very ungraceful. I thought that perhaps the truck was trying to run me over, but at 5 mph. I grabbed on to the back, a wooden hold , with long wooden planks, dried out and coming apart. The back filled with what looked like the remnants of a shopping cart belonging to a homeless person. Out came a disheveled woman with white hair, a denim jacket, and a bottle of liquor. I yelled drive!, I told her I would pay her and she took off...at a very very slow rate of speed. For some reason I could not get myself in the back of said truck so I just hung outside of it. I looked back and by this time we were several block away I saw police units moving in and arresting my would be assassins. This was bitter sweet, as if they were connected, they would be out and back after me soon enough, if they were not I would never have a chance to question them and most likely have law enforcement after me as well.

We then pulled a right and there was another police car on a angle, on the sidewalk at the entrance of a parking lot. It looked to be of a different municipality than those I saw arresting the others. It was black and white impala, lights going nuts. I was preparing my story hoping it wouldn't pull us over. Then I realized my driver was drunk.

So as the truck slowly climbed up the hill and past the car I hopped off. Hoping I wouldn't be questioned I looked at the cop, the cop at me and then...I'm not sure if what happen next actually happened however... the black truck pulled in to the parking lot and right behind it the police car made a sharp U to follow it in.

I can't recall any more...

It's odd how in the dream, vs something I understood, I would choose to flee, while in other dreams, vs impossible odds, I choose to stay and fight.

¶ 1/13/2007 06:01:00 AM //

"The Year of the Pengins"

For those w/o A NYTimes Select Acct...

ADVERTISING; A Procession of Penguins Arrives on Madison Ave.

By STUART ELLIOTT
Published: January 10, 2007

NEVER mind what the Chinese calendar says. This is going to be the year of the penguin, at least on Madison Avenue.

Penguins have long been popular in advertising, but they have become even more so after three successful movies with penguin characters: ''Madagascar'' and ''March of the Penguins'' in 2005 and ''Happy Feet'' last year. They have helped turn the penguin into the new pitchbeast of choice.

There is, for example, Club Penguin, which offers a Web site for children at clubpenguin.com, and the revival by Perry Ellis International, under the Original Penguin label, of the apparel bearing penguin logos that was once sold by Munsingwear. Penguins appear in print ads for Dawn dishwashing detergent, sold by Procter & Gamble, and star in commercials for Coca-Cola Classic. Hallmark Cards centered a promotion on a ''dancing penguins'' Christmas tree ornament, and the National Geographic Society has spotlighted penguins in campaigns.

''There's obviously something about these little guys'' that is leading advertisers to think ''it says something about us as consumers to associate ourselves with penguins,'' said Michael Megalli, a partner at Group 1066, a corporate identity consulting company in New York.

One theory Mr. Megalli offered is what he called ''the Al Gore thing'' -- this is, ''we want to reassure ourselves penguins will have a place in a world with global warming.''

That theory is reinforced by a campaign last fall from St. Martin's Press for ''Our Iceberg Is Melting: Changing and Succeeding Under Any Conditions,'' a business management book by John Kotter and Holger Rathgeber. Penguins decorate the book jacket as well as the ads.

Another reason, Mr. Megalli says, may relate to the dynamic between the individual penguin and the flock.

''None of us wants to feel we're just another penguin in a sea of penguins,'' he said, so a penguin who strikes out on his own can be used to tell an appealing story.

That was the case in a Coca-Cola Classic commercial, by Wieden & Kennedy, that teams the brand's familiar polar bear characters with a colony of penguins. The spot was introduced for the 2005 holiday season and was brought back for 2006.

The commercial shows a polar bear cub intruding into a flock of penguins. The penguins do not know how to react until one steps forward and serves the bear a bottle of Coke Classic. The spot ends as all the penguins join the cub and its parents in grooving to a Beach Boys tune.

''The bears have stood for being approachable and friendly, and the penguins are chatty and social,'' said Katie J. Bayne, senior vice president for Coca-Cola brands in North America at Coca-Cola in Atlanta.

The commercial ''was the top-scoring spot we've ever done with the polar bears,'' Ms. Bayne said, referring to research conducted for Coca-Cola by Millward Brown, part of the WPP Group, ''and in the top 4 percent of all spots Millward Brown has tested in the carbonated soft drink category.''

Penguins have played a part in marketing and popular culture for almost a century. The imprint Penguin Books was introduced in 1926; seven years later came Willie, the brand mascot for Kool cigarettes, then owned by the Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corporation.

Willie had his own Hollywood moment in the 1949 Marx Brothers movie ''Love Happy,'' when Harpo was chased through Times Square and climbed a neon sign advertising Kool. In the '50s and '60s, cartoons featured penguin characters like Chilly Willy and Tennessee Tuxedo.

Brown & Williamson sought to revive Willie in the early '90s, in a hipper incarnation, but in 1998 tobacco marketers agreed to end the use of cartoon characters in cigarette ads.

Penguins entered the high-tech realm in the late '90s, when Linux, the open-source computer operating system, adopted a penguin as its mascot.

The bird also appealed to the founders of Club Penguin, a Web site for children founded in October 2005 by Dave Krisko, Lane Merrifield and Lance Priebe.

Its genesis dates to 2000, when Mr. Priebe, working on computer games for children, ''happened to glance at a 'Far Side' cartoon featuring penguins that was sitting on his desk,'' said Karen Mason, a spokeswoman for Club Penguin in Kelowna, British Columbia. Work on Club Penguin began in 2004 and the name was selected in summer 2005, she added.

Summer 2005 was also the season of the documentary ''March of the Penguins,'' which initially had almost no advertising tie-ins because no one expected it to become the hit it did. Eventually, the National Geographic Society -- whose National Geographic Feature Film unit released the documentary with the Warner Independent Pictures division of Time Warner -- brought out ''March'' merchandise, like plush toys and books, and there were tie-ins with marketers like the Minute Maid unit of Coca-Cola.

By contrast, ''Happy Feet,'' released in November by the Warner Brothers division of Time Warner, had numerous marketing partners lined up in advance. They included Build-A-Bear Workshop, Burger King, General Mills -- and Roche Laboratories, the pharmaceutical company, for a campaign to promote a Web site, flufacts.com.

Roche, which makes a flu drug, Tamiflu, came in for criticism about the campaign.

On the blog of Shaping Youth, which studies the influences of marketing and the media on children (shapingyouth.org/blog), Amy Jussel, executive director, wrote: ''It's chilling to think that an animated cartoon is being used as a product-placement hook to sell paranoia, prevention and pop-a-pill solutions to families everywhere in a big-bucks deal that would make your head spin. (And not from the flu.)''

The next significant date for peddling penguins -- and penguin peddling -- is June 8, when the Sony Pictures Animation division of Sony is scheduled to release an animated film, ''Surf's Up,'' a mock documentary about a young surfing penguin (voiced by Shia LaBeouf) and his mentor (Jeff Bridges).

Trying to describe the idea, Premiere magazine wrote, ''Think 'Point Break' meets 'This Is Spinal Tap,' with penguins.''

Correction: January 12, 2007, Friday The Advertising column on Wednesday, about the popularity of penguin characters among marketers, misidentifed the agency that created a holiday commercial for Coca-Cola, based on information supplied by Coca-Cola. The agency was Berlin Cameron United, which previously worked for the company -- not Wieden & Kennedy, the current agency. The article also misspelled the surname of a founder of Club Penguin, a Web site for children. He is Dave Krysko, not Krisko.

¶ 1/13/2007 05:26:00 AM //

disaster,

pit

bull
camera
bed
home sweet home

court



There seems to be as natural disaster of some sort, I can't make out what it is in the panic of people running around although Brad Pitt seems to be in front of a news camera with a cocky attitude telling the public "I told you so". I think he has a monkey and...mind you this isn't the guy women go crazy over, he has big glasses, and odd hat and a big beard.

At one point he, and maybe a general are leaning up against shipping crates over looking the entire mess.

In the dream I'm very young, maybe 8 or even 7. It almost seems that every event that happens in one time line during the dream implants memories of the future that are based upon the action happening then and there.

At one point, we are on a bus, (My brother, who is perhaps 5 of 6, and myself). We then come across a neighbor hood creep we seem to know. He talks of disaster and how it's all over and then demands our jackets or he will hurt us.

On a side note,: in reality I'm reminded of 1st, or 2nd grade. There was a bully on the school bus. (I doubt it was the same, I can't even recall a face) and my brother would laugh at his antics. Till one day he kept poking him..then I realized he was not friend, he was foe. Not laughing with us, but rather at us. From that day forth every time we rode the bus together I made sure he was seated to the window, and I would protect him from said bully every day till the end of the year. My brother doesn't recall this, but I just did.

I knew he was stronger than both of us combined and I instantly saw his trial date, in what I was expecting NYC, but turned out to be New Haven. I gave him my jacket, It was all I had on and now had no shirt. He then demanded the same of my brother. I reluctantly prompted him to hand it over.

He then made some sort of comment regarding his pecks. I was so furious, yet so helpless.

I'm not sure whether I threw fists and they landed in a different realty, or I envisioned hitting him. Every fist I threw hit a stack of pink magazines, leaving faint knuckle marks after time.

I then recall flashes of us moving up the stairs at the house in NY. (there were many such flashes, but I can't recall nearly all of them)

Mean while our mother was in the hospital..and she was about to die due to injuries related to the disaster, She was talking to someone, and I can't recall what.

I then once again saw the future, my brother and his lovely home, and his family.

He had a picture discreetly hung on the wall, it was brown, with stripes of sorts, I can't recall what exactly it was. However then I recalled the past and , as my mother hastily prepared her two sons on to the evacuation bus, she picked up two digital cameras and took pictures of us, and our family and handed them to the both of us..


I woke up ready to cry...even in death a mother who had done so much to keep a family together through so much.The photo that still hung, memories...the future, all at the same time.

I see very little relevance in this dream however...It was far from what I typically dream of.

¶ 1/05/2007 04:41:00 AM //

Law Enforcemnt, Burial grounds, attack dogs, massive, ground shaking
cutting gates, fights, undead? night operations.

¶ 1/04/2007 04:18:00 AM //

I go around and I feel totally, utterly gutted.

As though someone reached inside, took everything that mattered and took off like a thief in the middle of the night. Everyday, is the day after, everyday is a mess, everyday the same as the next. I'm bewildered and amazed when I look down and see one foot drag itself in front of the other, I wonder from where they find the energy to do so...to carry me ahead to a future I no longer care about.

The days are no longer slow or long, but they simply exist, and fade, come, and go, melt one in to the other, and such is my existence, and such it carries on. There is no more passion, no more hope, there are no more flickers of life which echo through these hollow chambers. There simply is what is, nothing more, and perhaps quite a bit less. Sort of like a house can not simple be considered a home with out a examination of it's contents, a person can not be considered as such with out the same sort of examination, the sort that I would fail and have to be considered a what as opposed to a who.

Years ago I could picture every holiday. Even though I'm not Christian, I envisioned Christmas with Elizabeth, for Elizabeth rather than myself. An excuse to spoil her as I never really got a chance to. An excuse for the goddess in disguise as an angel to steal the angel and then hide said angel. I imagined holidays away, sweater vests and hot chocolate. I wanted to teach her how to ski. I always thought she would be quite the snow bunny. Then again, we no longer get snow in the north east of Bushs' America, the corporations have taken their toll and as a result our environment has become bankrupt. In Bushs 'America enemy #1 is the impoverished, so declaring chapter nine is not what it once was, it's seen as a cheat, as a way out, rather than a way to redemption and a stride toward normality for those fallen on hard times...so what is a bankrupt environment really suppose to do?

I imagined New Years Eve celebrated by candle light, I imagined almost every night together celebrated by candle light after so many years fighting to stay together. How her eyes made the flames dance. She always looked radiant, but by candle light, my heart would skip two beats. I would need heart medication if we had continued. I don't imagine I could have ever grow accustom to such amazing eyes, such delicate hands, such a wonderful person.

I feel, rather, I think it's better to be void as I am, other wise I wouldn't be able to function as I did before her, I did not function for years after her, Months went by and I did only the bare minimum to survive. I locked myself away from the world and only now do I choose to emerge, not a better person or a different person, but simply a thing meant to blend in to the background. I've never been good at blending, yet I try, I try to melt my self away in to the abyss, the nothingness. I try and keep a low profile and try to show no flash.

I no longer have do I have any aspiration other than to be bling free, no hopes, and no dreams other than those which haunt me in my sleep. I only have material possessions to which I am for the most part indifferent upon. I would trade them all for the necklace that Elizabeth gave me on my birthday, the one I so foolishly gave back for I did not deem myself worthy of her heart. The one I would kiss a hundred times a day, the act which now seems so foolish, childish, and the act of a man madly in love. The heart she would later in fact deem myself not worthy of, only after I cemented my resolve in staying with her forever, that after everything that was said, this was it, the one, forever, love. It was...but at the heart of it all, I was the dreamer, Elizabeth the scientist, she acted as she is, logical and decisive, and I did all that I could in order to get over her, I stopped dreaming, and thus stopped being who I once was.

¶ 12/31/2006 11:11:00 PM //

I can't recall everything, as always but, I was on top of a building in the city. There was a group exercise or something, a group jumping from one end to another. My cousin G/K was there (I think) and he gave the entire thing attitude and threw a blanket off the side of the building. I got upset and said he could kill someone throwing things off the building as he was. We were next to the park, central park telling by the gentlemen cabs. He gave lip back going on to ask how? I had to stop and imagine how, but I gave him plenty of lip back.

A bit later I was with a group of people I seemed to know, but can't really place. We were driving about in the same auto/carriage(it may have been the back of a limo). I can't recall how we were moving along, or even if I was driving ( I doubt it). Although we were now on the ground level just outside of the same building I was just on the roof of. I had the sensation that they were all out of towners. I may have been pretending to be from out of town.

A bit later, I'm not sure how I got there, or why I was there, but I was running through under ground conduits. I started out in a dark, dank parking garage...I think. The air had some sort of impending doom about it, a urgency. I felt as though I was on the job, the same sort of job I was doing when I was with Elizabeth, the dangerous sort. Although I came across a underground church(I think), I saw many people who recognized me, yet I didn't recognize any of them in turn...A hint of familiarity, but not really. People were sleeping on the floor with nothing but blankets. I felt a bit like a child.

Later, perhaps even much later (hours? not days, maybe day) I was in a small house. the place was in the sort of mess only a woman could keep. I was hurrying up to pack up and leave. I had a small suitcase, about the size of a carry on, the sort my father uses on his trips. I was running around making sure I got everything and then ran off in to her room, her bathroom. There were cotton swabs, I can't recall much else. Small bathroom though, messy as well. I was then about to head out when I saw in front of the door a larger suitcase, blocking said door. I then saw a few items I can't recall next to said bag and a note on top. It was written on Ratheyon stationary, I had written something semi-clever-geeky. TWS in big letters and what the represented in a downward fashion. I didn't/couldn't read it so I ripped it out, and then the same message. I thought it would be seen as being anal, although in hindsight it may be seen as persistent. (IE: someone rips one note only to find the same note again) I then recognized the larger suitcase as my own. I was going to take it but then I noticed it was filled with plastic bags of packing material,styrofoam peanuts which seemed to expand. Just then I heard a auto pull in to a garage. thus I am lead to believe it was a small ranch house and not a apartment. I was readying myself to explain why I was still there, that I had a place at the Hyatt in the city (A bad lie).

Reflections...

I'm not sure at the end if I was packing, or if I was running away. I've packed in such mad frenzies in the past when I wish to escape.

Noelle! It was her house, and she was with us on the night out, I woke up and I found it ere I dream of this person seemingly 2 dreams in a row. I'm not doing anything remotely ...actually I have been buying many books, but still, that's not enough to connect me to what/who I was in middle school.

¶ 12/20/2006 02:31:00 AM //

I'm not sure who I was dreaming of, she smelled and felt like Elizabeth, but she wasn't. She talked and moved ,even looked like Noelle. I think Noelle was one of my 1st crushes, once upon a time in middle school. It was fairly short lived though. I later found out that I preferred academics to cheerleaders. Not to say Noelle wasn't smart. She just wasn't rocket scientist smart, sort of in the fashion that Elizabeth is mind numbingly brilliant.

It felt as though we had been together for a few months, however we were still learning very much about each other. My race was very different in the dream, but yet not a negative(as it would have been in the south). I think we were at a funeral. I was wearing a cub scout uniform(I was a boyscout once upon a time) and had at lest 3 purple hearts. I was 35, and not sure if i still served. I sat on center upon a grand balcony and she stood behind me. She kissed me in raid succession on my right side as Elizabeth had done from behind on my left side. I pushed her back, kissed her on her check once, and said it was a formal event, and that we needed to behave ourselves. Although throughout the dream there were many such actions from her...but I don't think there was anything more than that.

Later in the procession every one went in to the building that the balcony we were in, over looked. In hindsight, it could have even been a play, however the air was very heavy with a sobering grief.

A bit later we were in a dinner, eating burgers, a mutual friend was there (whom I don't know in reality). There was lots of chit chat and he then took off to either the bathroom or off in general. She then jumped in my lap, exclaimed something to the effect of "thank god he's gone" and we started sharing pictures. She showed me a photo of her car which looked more like schematics and design schemes. I told her it looked like a cheap plastic Japanese toy, unless it was vintage in which case is was most likely solid. She said it was from a lot in G (2 towns over), she mentioned how she spent a lot of time in G (as have I recently when in CT) Then she once again kissed my check and was about to move in when a buzzer rang over head. It rang a few times and she moaned how it always happens to her. Something to do with how the restaurant operated. We either hung around town for a bit, or she left I can't recall, however we parted ways a bit thereafter.

Later on I received a handwritten text message, it was casual, but the sort couples who have been together write one another (so I'm guessing) She had long and pronounced J's, and F's very classic, avaunt guard. Then again I have very pronounced J's and F's, but very modern (I'd guess) Elizabeth said they were "funny". I didn't read the entire thing, it was sort of trying to read a letter through a magnifying glass, said glass being my cell phone. Actually, I recall someone asking about it in the dream, but every so briefly, too brief to recall. She said something about being down to 136lb's. I recall being happy for her, as was the tone of her message but, her figure sort of like Elizabeth's, twigs the lot of them. I wouldn't have imagined she was anything more than , 110?.

There was something about a building in the city, that she was moving to NY, to be closer? I can't recall. I do know she was frustrated with me, that I didn't give myself to her.

There was more, it's just that I can't recall any more.

¶ 12/17/2006 04:17:00 AM //

I dreamt...

I was in my bed, as of late I'm starting to sleep in the middle, vs the old method of sleeping off to the side, a space saved for a person who will never come. Yet at morning, I always seem to return to my respective corner.

I have a small alcove to the top right and left of my bed, flanked by windows covered in sheets of kevlar and large trauma plates. I like the light of 3 exposures in one room, but not at this risk of being killed in my sleep by a agent tasked with death from afar.

I was about to doze off when I was grabbed and thrown in to the small space to the right hand side of my bed, along with me came my sheets, blankets, and lost in the shuffle the smg I keep under my pillow. When I realized what was happening I raced up the vacuum as I kept being pulled in, climbing up the sheets as they whipped past me in the opposite direction. I was being thrown back, yet couldn't feel anything holding on to me.

For some reason I had the vision of a demonic creature, sort of how I recall the agent employed by the Nothing from the Never Ending Story. (When I was a child, I loved this story, I always thought it so grand and epic. I fell a bit in love with the name (se)Bastian...it always seemed iconic and noble, perhaps since then. Then again I did have the same haircut, ha, so did Elizabeth) I didn't see it, yet I knew it was in the room, it was behind what happen, and it was after me.

I fought and clawed my way out , threw myself up on to the bed and on to the floor to get a proper footing. I knew I was in danger, and something was in the room for the express purpose to kill me. The room seemed much larger. I looked across the room and saw my door was open (it's never open) So I rushed over and slammed it closed, wedged it with a block as well as locked it.

It may have escaped, but something told me it had not. I looked around and saw nothing, yet I did not not see what threw me about. However the lack of evidence did not lead me to conclude the vacancy of my would be assassin.

Something told me, if i stood to face my intruder, that I would face my maker as well...and so I yelled for it to show it self, for it to have the common decency, and sense of honour to attack me to my face, rather than attack in me in my sleep. I screamed to the room that it had made it this far, that it's grand act of cowardice at this point only serves to shames itself.

As I was building up the readiness to face a world of pain (for myself) I thought of it odd...how I fight in this fashion, and yet so many would have ran out the open door rather than lock themselves in with their enemy, especially with out a weapon. That many would run away, to fight another day, and here I was ready to jump off a cliff without a chute. I asked myself why I must dance amongst the fine line between heroism and stupidity, between honour and idiocy. I questioned why I must always do what's right, but not always what's smart.

I woke up still waiting for the creature to show itself...It never did.

¶ 12/13/2006 03:32:00 AM //

I think it started in a bed, I was either in a hospital or on a military bed, or so I assumed at first. Primarily because I was in bed with a guy, and in the next bed over there were two more guys. It was either a queen or full size bed....actually in hindsight it could have been a hotel.

Then there was this girl who snuck in to bed with me and, she reminded me very much of Elizabeth, but she was not. Elizabeth had a cold cynicism she would show the world, (And occasionally to myself), yet this person lacked that, but she was not Elizabeth. It's felt new, yet familiar and she rested her head in a different fashion than Elizabeth did. She wanted to have sex and was really aggressive,...but I told her to control it, that I couldn't. I'm not sure as to whether this was because of the person next to us try to sleep, or that I did not want relations with this person. Although our clothes were half off at this point. Shortly thereafter the guy next to us pops his head out and said something like "dick" implying we were ruining his sleep.

I had her sit next to me and I wanted to just sit with her in silence, try to figure things out. There was a bit of impending excitement in the air, and she sat next to me, just in front of me, a bit sexually frustrated. Just then through the door came, my father, except he was clean shaved as he was when I was younger. I asked him why he shaved? (Ironically he kept his beard only after seeing mine) He turned to me, revealing it was a goatee and made some sort of bad joke about the tears rolling down further. He seemed a bit taller and he was in a suit. Just then every one starts pouring in and just lots of family members and I thanked god they did not walk in to sexual exploits. My brother then walked in and he was also in a suit. These were not black suits, but Sunday suits of sorts. (We don't wear Sunday suits) I then introduced him to the girl I was with, (we were still on the bed) and
I said this is "Elizabeth, but not that Elizabeth". My brother is the one person in my family who knows a bit about Elizabeth, and I even left him with instructions should she show up and I'm no longer here.

I asked him what he wanted to drink and somehow orange juice came up. I had been out of town for a while (as has been the case lately) and I explained how the fridge was empty so I would see what I could do.

I then whispered in this fuax-Elizabeth's ear and asked her if she wanted to do some thing wildly domestic, that I was going to the grocery store, and if she would like to come with me. I was expecting a no, but received a enthusiastic yes. I have to admit, it did make me really happy to hear it. (The proper Elizabeth and I never got to go grocery shopping together)

I then was about to get up and tried to sneak my jeans back up under the sheets, and ran off in to the other room to zip up my fly, then I turned around and noticed the super swank place. It was very Victorian, avant guard. Very plush and rich materials. I noticed a few more people I think they were also relatives. I then went in to the hallway and saw my great grand mother (she passed away about 10 years ago) and I was about to blow her by but I then called out her title and hugged her. She was also wearing a suit though and she smiled, looked to be in good health and she hugged me, grabbed my tie (I was now wearing slacks, shirt and tie, can't recall a coat though) and she pulled me around in to the room I was in. I looked over to faux-Elizabeth and said"aren't ties wonderful?" or something to this effect and I was lead over to where the shoes were. I was trying to find my dress shoes to wear to the store and faux-Elizabeth looked up and laughed as I was being pulled around by my tie.

The recollection ends shortly thereafter, however I think of it in hindsight, and it had the overwhelming feel of a wedding. That perhaps I was the one to get married? Perhaps the reason why I didn't have sex. Although I can't say for sure. When I was with Elizabeth, I would imagine our wedding and at first, my side of the ceremony would be empty, and hers overflowing. I felt a bit self consciences about it...then I thought that perhaps there would be two weddings, then, when Elizabeth would tell me of her difficulties at home, with her father. I thought perhaps a small simple ceremony. Elizabeth said she didn't want to get married in a church, so I suggested we get married at sea.

I never imagined her in one of those long flowing white dresses, always something sleek, and contemporary, much like herself.

Sadly, I never got the chance to share such ideas with her, I may have, but not in such depths. It was not that I was afraid of scarring her off, after all I thought as a couple we were invincible, and that we could do anything together, and we would never let issues escalate as we had excellent communication. Yet, in the end, she left me in a single sentence, with no explanation, and no remorse. She went from I love you , to I can't be with you in a instant. I'm still in shock over how and the lack of why(lack of respect for what was). Although had she not moved on, I would have worried even more so. She has, and all I can be is happy for most possibly the most amazing person to have ever graced my life.

¶ 12/10/2006 03:07:00 AM //

My biggest problem in trying to deal with getting rid of Elizabeth, may be that i simply recall, far too fondly, what it used to mean to be happy. Perhaps that I recall what it is to be happy. Even when I was with her, I never took the sheer, unadulterated happiness for granted. I never knew what happiness could truly be till I was with her. After being so blissfully happy for so long...I had almost forgotten what it was to be sad, yet I always knew what a wonderful gift said happiness was. So when it hit me all at once...I can't say.

Granted..she got things faster than I did (she claims I was the genius and she was only ingenious..but I would argue the vice versa), but...it was so crystal clear. I had to do everything I could to be a better person for her. The way she hugged...she held on so tight..at first I was taken aback a bit... and latter..they meant so much. I had never been hugged with passion...I didn't even know such a thing existed and yet...Elizabeth did.

I miss everything...but it was the finer points that really mess with my mind. The things I try to forget and yet I can't. The way she played with my eye brows...I mean who plays with eyebrows? Elizabeth did, in the utmost caring fashion.

I once told her that she could never leave me, for she was now the ruler by which I measured all others, and no one else could ever hope to compare. Now in the years since, no one has even been even been worthy to compare let alone could possibly replace what was once my nirvana, but now only serves as my prison.

¶ 12/05/2006 06:43:00 AM //

There was a odd dream, I was at my parents house in ct, and via either email, or a series of calls I got together with someone I once went out with in reality. She was one of those awkward first dates after not being with anyone for such a long time, a proper humanitarian, out to save the world. She'd seen the 3rd world...urban studies. (Is there such a thing as negative chemistry?)

I can't recall if I sent my parents away, or convinced them to leave, however she came, although I have no idea how . She came over and she looked much better than I recalled. I think we were watching tv at a awkward angle, and one thing led to another. However it was almost as though we were forced in to it. Then as Elizabeth and I would do, she laid on top of me, but faced away, I went over her body and I insisted I kiss her. She turned her neck far back to accommodate me. There was nothing for myself and even that was awkward, yet we kept going. I went down with my hands, under her clothes, and she started really getting in to it when finally, after what seemed ages of torture (for me) she got up and asked if I even knew what I was doing? If I was even in the region?

I may be a idiot, but this is the one thing I know how to do. so she said this was all too weird (it was my parents den) and so she was going to go for a walk.

The house itself, was like my parents house, except it was re worked, the propriety seemed much larger, and the house re worked in a fashion that it seemed more grand, yet the same size. (bit more closed off floor plan though) I went to turn on all the out door lights for her, to light up the area, so that she could see her way, but only half of them worked. I eventually gave up and went outside to try and talk to her, perhaps take her home. As I came down the stairs in the middle of the rear deck (a place where there is no current stair case) I ran in to family members, I think two cousins (R + J?) R ran up to me and said it was good to see me, and then he pointed at a black convertible a few hundred feet away and made conversation about how V finally became a man and got a real car, a convertible. I imagine it was his first (he doesn't have a licence)

V is one of those cousins, that I can't put my finger on it, but something just makes you want to hug him, so every time I see him I hug him in a semi-comedic, overbearing, I haven't seen you for a million years, sort of fashion...as was replicated in the dream. I asked him if uncle P bought him the car (or I may have assumed this to myself)

Around then they pointed to my jeans and..noticed on rip across the right leg, then two, then a few, it was as though the person I was with, had something sharp on her and places where she grinded hard against me had cut the fabric of my clothes.

At this point I started to look for her (Sound familiar?) Although I think her personality went from the constant humanitarian (J) to the drunken, dizzy, overly artsy, do every drug under the sky, (M), or it just seemed that way. Although I was worried about her and began looking in earnest. I was also worried about the family meeting her (a very very old family, with very old traditions) Just then another uncle came around (M) and he brought someone..I didn't recognize. I shook their hands and said I'm off to do something.

The driveway was slowly filling up, and I knew I had to be quick about finding this girl. That there may be social obligations I may have missed, and yet I couldn't leave the girl wondering the rural roads of CT alone.

I went down the road and I was looking and walking, I think I even went as far as two towns over. Then foliage changed though, reminded me of Columbia. I came across this shack of light colored wood. Fairly new, but cheaply made. It was a LRO station for off road adventures sponsored by the manufacturer of my auto. I saw a sign in the shack, that once I got in seemed to stretch forever. It read "mud" with a big O with a dash posted underneath it. I turned to the guy and said how I had always wanted to go one of these, and I was in the area visiting my parents. I had a X model up the street and would love to get it dirty with them. He said I couldn't , yet there was a class up north in Bangor. For some reason my mind drew blanks and I couldn't recall what sate Bangor was in(Maine) , and so I asked him Bangor? He said yes, Bangor Maryland. I then asked him North? (Maryland is a few hundred miles south) He said he got the information, outdated video,and that the flag only had 48 stars on it. I joked and said it was perhaps for southerns. He joked and said it was for people in Long Island..once again this made no sense as Long Island is far north of Maryland. I told him people in Long Island are not as bad as those in the south (In terms of racism and ignorance...although LI can be pretty bad in certain spots)

I left the shack behind and continued looking (Although it is odd, I'm only just now noting the scene in the shack took place during what seemed the day, and yet she left at dusk...the lighting in the dream makes almost no sense)

So off I went again to look for this missing girl. The foliage around the house was dense, almost that of England though...everything was covered in a thick fog (As NYC was the morning before this dream) I was with my father going through the front yard and noticed many trees inside of what was once a manicured open field. I told them these needed to be cut down and then went in to why. He said ok, and I think he was helping me look. I went down to the road and thought I should call her and I think accidental dialed 911, but hung right up hoping the signal had not gone out. I saw numbers...323? 305? 425? I can't be sure now. Although as 911 came and left, A photo of a unmarked SUV with a light bar , a ford expedition came on my self phone. I put it down and one passed right in front of me. I went down to the road but it was long gone. I hoped it wasn't the girl in trouble.

I went to the base of the drive way and the cars continued to come (so it seems) I went up and there was my auto. Parked on the slope at the mouth of our sec and driveway. My brother joked ( I think) about how egocentric I was to park in said fashion. I said I left space for people to pass me, and I wanted to be ready to leave quickly in Case I had to. Just then I thought a black old school vw passat pulled up and passing us (my brother had a white one, although this felt as though it was ours). I had a smug retort I can't explain,although it later turned in to a smaller incarnation of a old school Jaguar coupe as it backed up in front of my truck. (I was initially worried I had parked on the grass, very out of character for me in any case expect a emergency) I took a quick glance up the driveway and noticed a big body Mercedes Benz was blocking it by parking sideways (It's what we do in large functions to avoid congestion and blocked cars, thus no one parks in the VIP lane with out prior clearance...IE: last function, perhaps 300 cars? but only 10 or so vip slots)

I opened my passenger side door for reasons unknown to me while trying to reach this girl (my mother and father were there as well...listing to the conversation amongst brothers) when out came a pink hunk of plastic ringing. I knew it was her cell phone, although close up it had a odd shape. It must have fallen out of her pocket, thus the conclusion she came with me. I picked it up. It was a distinct ring..ring yes ,no odd song or anything of the sort.

I carried it and let it ring, redialing it every so often to avoid her voice mail box in hopes that she would hear it. I went around the area again looking for her.

I wound up on the south west side of the property when I noticed my father running through the brush and a Israeli looking guy chasing him. He either took down my father or my father fell. I ran up and demanded to know what was going on (taking no one's side at this point) and the Israeli with the very close (almost bald ) hair cut said that a flock of bird escaped, and he was the only one running in the opposite direction (the method by which they caught on of the Kenyan embassy bombers (Shrapnel in his back as he ran away)).

I then found a few certified checks...1543 something something.

My father said he had saved up, that his hamster got better and he wanted to be a hamster doctor. Something about medicine and doctors. He was still facing down. I hugged him and started to cry, saying he could be anything he wanted, that he didn't have to run away to do so. I couldn't stop crying ( In reality...I don't cry) although the crying seemed a bit forced. I think I was touched at the simplicity of the gesture, of how child like his entire plan was. Something about it just set off a nerve...and I woke up shortly thereafter feeling guilty about not being able to find the girl, to make sure she was safe.

¶ 12/01/2006 03:22:00 PM //

long dream

lots of travel , many countries,
beruit or holland

hostange situation
stiar case.

50 note

money machine


In what what a very long convoluted dream, I was somehow in Amsterdam ( I think) and I was across a seemingly deserted street when I saw two glass doors about 400 feet out with masked gun men and mp5 machine guns (odd since they are only used in law enforcement) I then panned to my side of the street and saw Elizabeth crouched down by a stair case, yet she was still in the line of fire. I then saw the police snipers and agents hidden away., It was about to hit the fan.

I reached in to my jacket and drew my side arm and ran as fast as I could to be by her side. She didn't smile, more so the look of disgust I now see this look from her in most of my dreams. (Odd since I never saw this look in reality). I didn't care, even though it broke my heart, I loved this girl, and she was going to do amazing things for our world. I needed to get her out alive even if it meant being sacrificed. Although the situation was not that dire. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Better her here than inside the building with the gunmen.

I can't recall what happen next, however memories of that moment stayed with me throughout the very long dream. I could not possibly recall then entire thing.

I was then at the main family house overseas. It was all very odd, very european. Small modular modifications, back lit closets encased by frosted glass. The sort of place I imagine superman to have(if he actually lived in the fortress of solitude). I then walked in to the massive bathroom, then by one shower , then two, then three. I had to tell someone that it was official, that I could now prove the old bat (my Grandmother) had lost it. (She is constantly expanding on our main family house )

So I saw my Uncle (not really blood relative, more so a dear friend of the family). He said it could not be as did my aunt. Yet, three shower stalls in one bathroom. And there were sinks everywhere. # sinks (though one was a double) in the bathroom, and then a larger low hung one in the bedroom. Although the closet units were quite nice. The shower units I think were the space age sort from the Netherlands. Very efficient and silent. (IE: a person outside can not hear the person showering).

I was then walking along with my driver and he gave me a 50 note and told me I had to do something with it. I couldn't quite understand. I later entered in to meetings and met with officials and religious figures. I was just in country so I guess I had a lot of people to meet. (as is usually the case in reality, a 3 week stay usually comprises of over 100 meet and greets along with various business affairs, barely enough time to sleep)

A bit later, I am at the place my Aunt and Uncle were staying (still part of the main compound, although perhaps not the main house) and as they drove off there was a girl to my right. She wanted to smell my cologne, and so I let her and she whispered something like "oh my your palate" I though she liked the variety of colognes I wore, but then she started to kiss me (neck) and I had to pull away. I think she was of some relation to my Aunt and Uncle(who are not blood relatives), or even a servant and they were just pulling away. One look in their rear view mirror and we would both be dead (not literally).

So I pulled away, and told her no..however I can't recall what she looks like as I never looked at her. A few moments later my voice mail rings on my phone(had it been the normal ring I would have woken myself up to answer my phone). I am dreading this and it's my Uncle. I think it's about the girl but no. He's irate about the 50 note. I was suppose to give it to someone and how it was a grave act of disrespect.

I kept thinking it was almost nothing in American why would I want to keep it? That I honestly did not know what to do with it. That said amount you could easily find in change on the streets of NY at any given time (I know this since once, someone and I , as we were walking around we picked up every bit of change we say, lots of pennies go forgotten. We gave them to the 1st homeless person we saw along with a twenty)

I then realized I had a bit of a cash problem. It seems the same amount of currency I have with me now (In reality) I had in the dream. So only a few hundred usd. I thought I should be fine but I needed to convert my funds. Perhaps a ATM machine, although I was almost positive that the stack of checks on my desk remained as I left them, uncashed.

I then found myself at a very...american strip mall. It was practically deserted. It almost seemed cartoon like and western. in the depths of a store I found a currency conversion machine. I popped my money in thinking it would be instant and, up came a screen asking me to wait 38 minutes. I had places to be , and someone waiting for me. Yet I waited The person , she then became a bit anxious and asked me what was going on (I had come outside for a breather). I let her know.

Although I don't know who she was or what she looked like, I didn't look straight at her. I think it was almost like telekinesis. (something Elizabeth and I almost seemed to have when in person) As though I could feel her disappointment and aggravation.

I can't recall much more, however many such dreams filled my day ( I sort of slept it away..should have been outside with a chain saw clearing up debris. tsk tsk, such a nice day too)

¶ 11/27/2006 01:07:00 PM //

This years events started going downhill before they even began. I believe a few days prior to heading to CT I was out and about and I received a call that there would be a function at the purple house. Said owners of said house, refer to theirs as the "new house" (despite the fact several homes have been bought since) and are generally regarded as dicks. However family is family and I said I would attend one of the three days their event was going on for. It being thanksgiving and all.

Yet at these function, be attending there is somehow the mentality that you can't eat meat, prior, or after said functions which is just such a load of shit. I don;t even know the purpose of said events and it's actually a bit scary how fanatical certain branches of the family are becoming, and how they lack and sort of answers. Be the the person educated or not, the questions are greeted with blank stares.

Yet each faction tries to out do each other, as well as families vs one another. ie: well my function had 1,500 people attend. Well my function had 2,500 people attend. Does god even care? Well guess what fucker, I care , you deprive me of my gobble gobble.

When my grandfather was alive, he would go all out. My mother even recalled one year how he had the turkey prepared three different ways before being finally satisfied. It was really his holiday. Since he left, the turkey is lackluster and everything else pretty much omitted. no real get together in lights of the massive rifts that have since developed. Ungrateful children fighting for scraps of what was once a great legacy, and a widow spinster who let's the name tarnish away. At lest the food bank got a few turkeys and a nice donation.

Elizabeth had such problems with her family, and yet she would always choose to forgive and forget, for the sake of family unity. She would always note how she was out soon,and that it was better to leave such pieces in tact and remove oneself from the situation rather than shatter the fragile state with the truth. The truth always suffer for the greater good. Elizabeth new all of the horrible things that my family did to me and, yet they did worse to her.

I had a disinformation campaign painting me as a potential assassin, a woman abuser, a thief and a liar. I had personal property destroyed, various law suits, was made homeless and yet, Elizabeth told me to forgive, forget, and move on. I did for her sake.

Since Elizabeth left I have become considerably less passionate, less emotional, cold and rational. Yet something snapped on this trap.

It's as though I need a lawyer by my side when talking to my family. I'm fed lies and disinformation in the hopes that I will repeat said follicles and be thought the fool. I'm asked to commit crimes and when I refuse, I'm lectures about family and how disobedience will not be tolerated. I give constructive solutions to ideas and then I'm reminded of what a black sheep I am and how my residence here is not permeant, that I am simply a guest and should know my role.

Just a week prior I was telling my father the popper steps to take in addressing a family matter, and amongst other measures, he went on about digging up corpses and mutilating bodies to send a message.


Well after hearing a lie about silly things, I snapped. I demanded to know why he did not respect me as a human being and why he insisted on feeding my leis that served no purpose other than to humiliate me. This is not a new field for him, I even recalled how we even had a therapist once (appointed by the state in light of my father giving me several stitches across the forehead) he lied to the therapist about things I said and did. Yet such lies from him about myself are taken as the truth, he goes behind my back and repeats them to dishonor me, and yet e also dishonors his own name.

While yelling he got up and told me I didn't know who I was dealing with and that he would fuck me up. this was the last straw. I am taller, faster and stronger and I threw him back in his chair and was ready to take his head off. Something I would have done without hesitation when I was 16 if given the chance.

I yelled to him that we were adults, that I am now the stronger and he the weaker, that he had no chances in ever defeating me , and all he could do was respect me and hope I respected him back. That as a son I could only take so much. Yet with overwhelming odds he was still defiant, he said that he was stronger and I was the weaker one. I told him that if he could get up, that Iw oddly admit defeat and leave and then he went on about how he didn't have to prove himself to me. This fucking pompous prick was still so self righteous and he kept repeating the same blatant lies.

eventually he told me that either he would live here,or I would. Then I told him he could go fuck himself and that I'm going back to my house, and congratulated him fro driving me off as he had just driven off my brother (who just made the final move out of their house) I told him to enjoy his big house and all his empty fucking bedrooms, that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted because no one cares about a old man pretending to be a something, when in fact he is a nothing.

When I was in my auto , I realized how heavy I was breathing, how mad I actually was. I hadn't been this mad in years, I could not recall ever being this mad. I was fuming, raging, and I tried everything I could think of to calm myself down. yet I couldn't I was literally waiting for a excuse to flip, to scream, by arms felt like loaded chambers, I was ready to just get in to a fight.

I was about 40 minutes away when my mother found out and called me. I told her I was already gone and I was not coming back. she ask what happened and I then asked her if it even mattered. That I would tell her what happen and it would contradict his story which would inevitably portray him as the hero. She then told me fine and hung up.

About a hour later, I was a half of the way home and she called me again to come back for dinner, and then I could leave. She did go shopping specially for the ingredients for this dinner, and she laid a massive guilt trip on me, so I drove back at a bit of a quick pace.

When I arrived home they acted as though nothing happened, that I was once again merely a guest. I ate alone in the formal dining room and have been alone about 90% of the time since. I keep thinking if I run in to him I'll knock his lights out (thank god it's a big house)

This morning they left to another family function and I let loose my tongue and all I do now is swear and rage. My mother asked I stay until Sunday at the very least , and I'm giving her every excuse to send me back home without being outright rude.

IE: It's raining out, so I told her she was best off taking my auto. She said it would get dirty, however I then told her since it was outside it was already dirty and I had spent about 12 hours a few days ago cleaning it. (on her most recent vacation I spent about 35 hours on it) That her auto would only get dirty. She claimed it was too big. I argued her past autos had been larger in size, she then said she was used to smaller autos. I then reminder her about how she used to suddenly become claustrophobic when it came time to sit in my old auto (a smaller sports coupe) She then said her car wasRockafellar safer, I then asked her what it had, that mines did not? AWD, ESM, traction control, abs, a million airbags and then I gave up I said fine. I said she could take whatever the fuck she wanted but if she didn't take mine, I wouldn't ever clean her auto again. She said fine.
About 5 minutes later she came to the guest room Iw as staying in and asked me where the keys where. I told her that I was under the assumption we came to a understanding. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted, and thus less work for me.

I realize there is no need to be this rude, curt, or have such a sharp tongue. Yet I'm so mad at the fact that he gets away with so much shit, and she lets him, and always takes his side. I almost wish I had beaten him up as thats what he's going around telling people , and portraying me as a ungrateful son.

No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do I can never make these people happy. I have countless accommodations for heroism, and valor in the line of duty, and my mother only scoffs asking why I risk my life for others? I volunteer and they ask why I would work for nothing. I have awards for professionalism and they say its the equivalent of a award for being normal. I've had several prominent positions in public and private sectors, and yet they always scoff and preach the opposite, then again half the time the lambast me and claim I have falsified my documentation, and then demand proper paper work. As though I'm on trial, and when I do they scoff more so (very scoffy this lost) . I always feared of Elizabeth meeting them, and part of me thanks god she left, and thus never had to meet them. Although I pass Rockafellar and a weekly basis, and it really breaks me heart, the penitential of amazing possibilities resided within those gates. However it's not as though she has ceased saving the world, more so saving the world , via having nothing to do with me. She saves and I destroy, and round and round it goes.


Argh, Fuck thanksgiving.

¶ 11/23/2006 03:26:00 PM //

Amongst many painful reminds of what was...to add to the ever growing list of thing I can't bring myself/breaks my heart to do...

Go to MOMA
View Starry Night by Van Goh
Eat blue M&M's
Go to California without her
Date after Elizabeth
fallout of love...

and now...I cannot see Mission Impossible 3, because thinking about doing so...only reminds me of Mission Impossible 2, and thus breaks my heart to see it without her.
If only I could go with her, so we could ignore the movie together...


Although I did dream about her again last night, it was of the x rated sort. I couldn't seem to satisfy her no matter what I tired and she finally gave up out of frustration. (Far, far from the reality of our past encounters, more like giving up out of sheer exhaustion on her part) yet it makes me wonder. Perhaps I could not mentally stimulate her? or provide for her in other matters and fashions that she needed? It seems I will never really know and only be left to asking such questions...why?

¶ 11/21/2006 03:46:00 PM //

I can't help but feel, at lest part of me feels what a tragic loss Elizabeth was...I'm still devastated, I still cry(not really), I still lose any and all control, I have no more passion...for anything. It's the mundane repeating itself. I pray that she will return and yet...part of me knows these wishes shall never come in to fruition, while another part of me does not want them to.

The logic being...that I can not be happy without Elizabeth, or so I feel has been fact up till this point in time, and I also feel I can not be happy, without Elizabeth being happy. Thus , even if she was with me, she would not be happy, and thus I would not. Either case...I don't think I can win. The closest I come to happiness, is knowing she is happy with someone else. I can't bear the thought of entrapping such a wonderful person. It would be like taking the birds and trees, flowers and blue sky's, taking the moon and the stars, and hiding them, keeping them to myself. I need for her to be free.

At somepoint, love simply fails to conquer for some. For others, it only conquers themselves.

Some days I think I'll make it, till I close my eyes, see her smile, smell her scent, feel her touch. Nothing about us made sense, nothing about us should have worked, but I didn't care. Nothing made sense until I was with her and then...then it was all worth it. It was all so crystal clear. It was so simple, so painless...do whatever I must to be with her, to stay with her. Yet, I did not want to limit her freedoms in any form or fashion. I always wanted her happiness, above all else. For there never to be a reason for her not to smile , for her heart not to be light, and eyes to stop shining the way they did so brilliantly, so radiantly.

If such a understanding, such a wonderful and caring indavidual will have nothing to do with me...then what does that speak of the evil, horrible, vindictive bastard that I am?

¶ 11/13/2006 04:27:00 PM //