Mig,

And don't you hate it, when you want to finish the dream and are sort of half awake, and try to fall back to sleep so you can continue? I always dream but wake up only remembering bits and pieces.

TIS

It is amazing how fleeting the memory of a dream is. It's also funny when you wake up with absolutely no memory of a dream, and something later in the day makes you suddenly remember the dream.

This happened once years ago when a colleague asked me where I wanted to go for lunch. I said, "How about Dewey's?"

He looked at me with a puzzled look that confused me because we had gone there about once a week for months. I eventually realized that the place had had a new name for years and the previous night I dreamt that it was still "Dewey's." If you had asked me the day before what the name of the place used to be, I would never have been able to tell you. Somehow it came back to me in a dream that left my memory in the morning.

It's snowing now We are suppose to get 1-3 in. I'm not ready for the snow.

Edited.

Who likes my new festive avatar?

It's nice to know that you're getting into that holiday spirit.

I don't like it Capo.

You're no party animal, so don't try to portray yourself as Santa, who is of course the ultimate party animal.

Actually, as you all know, my avatar has always been Gene Hackman in The French Connection (apart from a few times when I forgot Hackman was God and tried to have another avatar). Those of you familiar with the film, will recognise my avatar as the first scene proper in The French Connection in which Hackman is seen.

I saw DJ Shadow last night, for the second time this year. His routine hadn't changed much, and he had the same guests, Chris James and Lateef the Truth Speaker (James' band Stateless, who are amazing, supported). It was brilliant stuff, I must say.

Afterwards we had a flatparty, at which I got tremendously drunk. I remember everything; it's hard to explain my states of giddiness. I suddenly decided I wanted a 12" pizza, hot and spicy, and so I ran to and from the nearest cashpoint (ATM), in blurry zig-zags. Nobody was around at the time I went, and I remember laughing to myself very loudly with my cashpoint card in my hand, as if it was a bar of gold.

It ended fantastically, too: an eruption of vomit, consisting mostly of half-digested cheese and pepperoni and jalapeno peppers, came flooding from my mouth. The entire hallway absolutely stinks today, and I woke up with one motherfucker of a headache.

That's the first time ever that I've been sick because of drink. I haven't vomited since I was car-sick at eight years old or something. It felt strangely satisfying, as if I was purging all the shit from my body. I felt great afterwards.

This morning I was too hungover to even walk my girlfriend home. Half delirious, I remember her saying, "Bye Michael, I'm walking home now" about a dozen times in order to try and stir me so I could walk her back. And all I kept saying was, "Bye" back. Hahaha!

It's less than a week until I go home for Christmas. I cannot wait.

If she sticks with you through that mess, you gotta marry that girl.

This place has become really barren.

What's with this drought?

You're a drought, Mick, you're a drought.

Oh Gawd, I love this macro function.

Those are some beautiful flowers.

Thanks Mig. They are artificial flowers. I've posted long shot of the pink one a few pages before in this thread. They look very real though.

I can't believe they are artificial. They look so real though. That flower reminds me of Springtime. It's not even winter yet (even though we have snow on the ground). And I'm looking forward to Spring.

Thanks Mig! I'm looking forward to Spring as well. It has been snowing on and off, not enough to cover the ground for long, but enough to ruin my plans for going out and do some major photo shooting on the weekend.

Af's
do you know what the name of those flowers are?

Mig, I've no idea what they are called in English. We call them "Shab boo" or "Night Scent" and that's the kind of flower that dissipate its scent only at nights. You can find them right before Spring when the weather is still a bit cold, since they don't like hot or even mild temperatures.

Since how long do you have a girlfriend, Mick?

Two months, perhaps.

It won't last long. She's from Australia, this is her final semester, and she's going travelling in February.

Alas.

I don't get it. Physiological reasons aside, I don't see how you can feel great after being sick because of drink and vomiting. But most of all I don't understand why young people like drinking so much. Do you think it makes you look more charming or intelligent or socially agreeable? Personally I consider those who drink to the point of getting sick with the utmost disdain. They look lousy and stupid to me. And definitely socially repulsive. And I have always felt like that. I mean, not since I'm a respectable old maid, but even when I was a regular teenager. Any substance that alters you, should be avoided, Mick. You are adorable the way you are "by default". I hope this doesn't turn to be customary for you, darling.

Yadayadayada.

I am too strong for alcohol; even when it is in me I contain the most intensified self-awareness. I knew what I was doing. It was sort of like purging all the bullshit out of me that builds up after an entire semester surrounded by hangers-on, academically dull and socially inadequate people. Sort of like taking a scolding hot shower after you shake hands with your enemy.

It was a cheap cousin to colonic irrigation, but got rid of intangible shit instead of actual brown faecies. Seconds after the Great Purge of Pretentiousness, I felt newly born again.

Idiots often bring you down to their level without you knowing it; and so the only way to emerge as yourself again is to knowingly acknowledge this, take a dive into a big pool of alcohol, swim a length, and come out the other side without any of the filth attached to your body.

But I forgot, you said "physiological reasons aside". So I guess you can just forget everything I said and keep frowning.

I don't frown. It makes wrinkles.

When I drink alcohol, and I'm tipsy-drunk (but not really dead-drunk), I also know what I'm doing. However, I sometimes act differently, and do things I normally wouldn't do or dare to do. Sometimes I'm even surprised of all the things I do then.
But the beautiful thing is, I am always aware of it. I'm always present. It never happens that I do things I can't remember.
It's like a movie, in which I am the main character. Wonderful feeling. As olng as I don't do it too often.

Alcohol is the main tool for breaking through to the other side.

Why not drink it?

Without wrinkles you're basically without personality.

Other side of what? The toilet?

Just don't use this line on the arresting officer at 3AM. He won't buy it either.