I Am Superman, And I Know What’s Happening

Sometimes I have dreams where I do heroic things. I wonder if maybe it’s because I don’t feel much like a hero in waking life? I think that to some degree, everybody wants to be seen as a savior, one who does great things for the common good, or at least to have the courage to try. And some people want to be superheroes, taking it to the next level. I dreamed last night that someone broke into my house. I was downstairs and heard a noise on the front porch. I opened the door and heard someone on the porch roof, and saw a wire that they’d attached to the ground and used (somehow) to get up on to the roof. I had a broom in my hand and was yelling at the person to get off the roof, and trying to swipe at the wire with the broom, but I didn’t step outside because I thought it might be dangerous. The situation didn’t really feel dangerous, though, but I yelled upstairs for Doc to call 911. Then the noise stopped and I knew that the person had gotten inside the house. I heard noises in the backyard and ran through the house. Our backyard was large and grassy, and someone I didn’t know had tackled the robber down to the ground. I ran out and took over, ordering him to turn over onto his stomach, and then I jammed my knee into the small of his back and cranked his hands up behind his back to hold him in place. My broom had shrunk to a small stick, but the end was nice and pointed and so I stuck this against his back so he wouldn’t try to get away. He had stolen a Walkman cassette player from […]

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christmas commercialism, take 2 (final)

today i had more success at finishing my shopping than yesterday. i located and purchased the one remaining xmas gift for doc — the one in whose pursuit i had the “bitch experience” at town east mall last night and i think that i also forgot to mention that the traffic was so terrible (like dorothy parker said “this was fancy terrible. this was terrible with raisins”) that it took me about 55 minutes to get out of the mall parking lot and home, which is only about six miles total — at the dallas galleria, and although i was dreading driving over there and trying to park and navigate through the hordes of rich folks, it was surprisingly calm for two weeks before christmas. (boy howdy, that was one hell of a run-on sentence!) the salesdrones at the galleria kiosks have apparently been instructed to snag passersby by any means necessary to bolster their holiday sales. they were very agressive, almost uniformly so. a woman at a skin care products kiosk stepped in front of me as i was walking past and said, “ma’am, can i ask you a question about your skin?” in a way that made it clear that my skin was dry, alligator-like, ugly, blemished, and in desperate need of the kind of help that only her $180 sea weasel placenta sugar scrub could rectify. a dude at a jewelry kiosk (ugly jewelry, at that) accosted me and tried to grab my upper arm while intoning in a low voice “i have something very special to show you, miss.” yeah, i bet you say that to all the girls. what do you say to these people? it’s not in my nature to be rude and ignore them. i think i usually say something like “no thanks” […]

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