We were travelling in a minibus. We had a running competition coming up but in the minibus there were many familiar faces who are not, however, runners. But regardless of that, it looked like they were going to run too. Definitely some professionalism was missing because Kalle, a friend from my childhood, lightened up a joint. He was smoking with his friend and I couldn't resist the temptation. I had a spliff on my own.

Just after two lungfuls our coach came back there. It was actually wierd that no one has noticed the smoke. Actually the joints started generate smoke right after the coach arrived. We panicked that our asses will be busted because the old fart wouldn't understand there's no harm having a wee blow. Kalle tried to put out his joint with his finger but it didn't work out. I put my joint inside my pocket and tried to hide it from the coach without discharging it. It didn't work out. Funny thing was that the joint wasn't hot and I didn't find anything exceptional in it. When the coach turned his back I cut the joint with my credit card so that the latter part of the joint was untouched by the fire. I was really proud of my invention -- somehow it appeared to be very difficult to hide the spliff without ruining the whole joint.

Unfortunately I woke up before the effect of the joint kicked in..

I cooked a perfect plate of hashbrowns.

Have you ever had perfect hashbrowns?

I have.

Once.


In my dreams.

Fade in. Printed words on a faded yellow page. Wait. Where am I? I am clutching a novel as I hunch over a desk, blazing halogen lighting what looks like a classroom. Is this high school? College? Should I be listening? Confusion. It's night out, but I can see a faint post-dusk glow in the distance. The man in front of the class (other figures, mainly sleeping) babbles on. I go back to my book.

Bell rings. Must be high school after all. Why am I back in this hellhole? There must be some reason, I suppose. I let the crush and flow of studens push me through the hallways, then down and around the stairway. I feel like I'm being washed down the drain.

Hallway. The flood disperses, leaving only a scarce few of us walking through a hallway to... Where are we going? My moment of concern is gone as the fire alarm goes off. However, this alarm is far from the normal buzzing and flashing of strobe lights. Instead, cascading waves of purple and blue light play across the floor and celing while quiet, almost orchestral techno music drifts through the air. I halt, fascinated by what resembles a giant Winamp plugin. Are those raver pants? To my suprise and delight, it seems I am dressed for the occasion in my favorite glow-in-the-dark pants. I put a little shuffle in my step, grooving down the hallway.

Shouting. It seems that the moment cannot last. Barreling around the corner comes a balding, middle-aged man with a pinstripe suit and a gut. Is he the principal of this school? All I know is that I instantly dislike him, this man who reminds me of every authority figure I have ever despised. He demands to know who pulled the alarm, and when only silence meets him, orders us up against the wall. The rest of the students comply, but I do not. What right has he to demand such? Putting a bit of a swagger into my walk, I raise my book once more and quietly ignore him.

"You there! What are you doing?" I glance up, and there is anger on his face as he strides up to tower over me.

"Who, me? Just reading. Sir." I adopt that grin I know drives people mad, infuriating but just far enough from insolent that I can't be called on it. Apparently, it serves it's desired function, as he grabs my arm and hauls me out of earshot of the other students.

"Mr. Hess," he says, "I think you know exactly who pulled that alarm, and if you don't tell me right now, then I'm going to have to assume that you did it." I am indignant. This man, his breath reeking of booze and cigar smoke, dares try to coerce me? My jaw is set, my glare defiant. "I didn't do it," I respond, "And I don't know who did."

"Very well then." He stops to consider for a moment, before a grin spreads across his face. "Hess, I'm willing to let this drop on one condition. You are to perform in front of the junior high students at the christmas banquet." I see his plan now. He wants me broken, humiliated in front of the school. Well, I have other plans.

"Thanks," I say, "But no thanks. I'll pass." He scowls, and I know I have made the right choice. "Ten hours detention," he bellows at me loud enough for the students down the hall to hear. "Is that all, then?" I ask. The look on his face is incredulous.

"Do you honestly want more?" I sneer and turn away, but a meaty hand comes crashing down on my shoulder, freezing me in place. I can feel him leaning down to my ear. "In this school," he growls, "We have not forgotten belt or the cane."

Rage. This is the last straw. First bribery, and now physical threats? I think not. Moving with a grace that suprises even myself, I reach up and grab the lobe of his ear, holding him in place. With a smooth motion, I draw a knife (I have a knife?!) and place the tip against his throat.

"Never. Do. That. Again." I spit out each word individually before realeasing him, the knife vanishing to wherever it appeared from. His face contorts. "That belt," he snarls, "Is giving you dangerous ideas." I glance down at the black, metal-studded belt as he walks away.

Fade out.

---

In retrospect, this seems almost like my mind decided to travel back in time to a 10-year-old version of myself. Ignoring the teacher because I know I can pass, empty defiance towards monodimensional authority figures, threatening people I don't like with well-rehearsed violence... Yep, it all seems like a distant journey to the dreamland of yesteryear. Sigh.

I wouldn't normally dream log, but last night (akay, actually this afternoon, since I slept until 1 PM) I had a dream that involved e2. In my dream, I was following around Hemos and Nate and maybe some other e2 Gods. They were all going to a park in Portland, OR, near where Oaks Bottom is. They were attending some kind of important VA Linux meeting or something.

Anyway, I was following them around with doggish devotion, but when I went down to their meeting site in the park, I saw that they had some bears running around. So I ran into the Willamette river, even though Hemos and Nate were laughing at me, and feeding food to the bears. (Even in the dream, I realized that residents of Holland, MI are not as well innoculated with the knowledge of how dangerous bears are, and may think of them as cute tows). Anyway, the bear followed me into the water, and I remember bobbing in the water, waiting for the killing blow, thinking "is this the end?".

But I suppose it is hard to die in a dream, and I woke up soon to see the entire scene cleared out and the various Gods apologetic about inviting bears into their domain.