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2000-05-19

Yesterday this new guy at work came by my office to check the wall jacks (he was making the rounds of the place). I'd seen him around but had never spoken to him before, decided to be friendly and ask his name. After we introduced ourselves, he asked where I went to college. This guy looks to be about 20 and was at the time wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the name of one of the local state universities.

I went to a small college that people are either impressed by or have never heard of. I've realized that when asked where I went to school, I answer in one of two ways: if I think they've heard of it, I say the name but if I think they haven't, I say, "In Ohio." That's what I said to the kid in my office.

I sensed he thought I was a recent graduate. I said, "It's been a while since college for me. In fact, next week I'm going to my sixteen-year reunion." He was satisfyingly stunned, prompting me to mumble something about staying out of the sun. I guess it's vain on my part but I generally have so little vanity that I figure I'm entitled to a bit now and then.

The thing about people responding in one of two fixed ways to something reminds me of these people I met at a wedding. They introduced their young son Jem and I said, "Oh, like in To Kill a Mockingbird." The woman said, "You must've gone to a liberal arts college. People who did always say that and people who didn't think it has to do with Barbie's rock star friend Gem."

Last night I awoke at four, tossed for 20 minutes, got up for a while and went back to bed at 5. Had a hell of a time getting up to go to work, dreaming intricately. (Dream in gray, feel free to skip.)

Took place in a mansion where B and I and, if you must know, a bunch of online journalers I've never met in real life had gone for a weekend. We were sneaking in unofficially, the place so dilapidated and abandoned I thought we'd be fine (I was the ringleader of the adventure). We ended up getting busted for trespassing, by a realtor, not a cop, she just kicked us out.

Then my car, which in the dream was a pale green 1970s Volvo station wagon instead of my 1990s silver one, somehow got flooded with water, like someone had driven it into a lake. An older college-professor type guy said it was good that happened because I was too attached to it. I beat on his chest and screamed "That's right, you fucker, I'm attached to it. I'm still paying for it!"

I don't know what the sudden insomnia is about. I hope it goes away.

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