Fear the Crab

I dreamt that I was using my rollerblades to commute to work. I made it down the hill on my street when I started to realize that I was not supposed to be on the sidewalk and should be in the street. I remember thinking that the streets weren’t well maintained and had a lot of gravel, which made for a bumpy ride.

Then for some reason I had to go back home, which meant skating up the hill. Along the way I passed a police officer on foot, and I told him that there was a suspicious car parked on a dirt road that I had just passed.

Went to Kim and Philip’s wedding reception on Sunday. Sat next to some cool people, fondled some cool pins, and ate some cool food. I had to give the second banzai toast, so I drank three tall bottles of Sapporo (40 oz?) as preparation.

There is one thing that drinking copious amounts of alcohol does to me; loss of short-term memory. As an example, when I gave the second toast, I briefly explained the significance of it, then launched into the thing with volume. When I sat down, I could not remember what I said. I had to ask Maile, “Did I say it this way, or did I screw it up and ruin everything?”

Yet, at the time, everything was lucid and all my thoughts came into crystal clarity. I knew what I wanted to do, how to do it, and all the little mental notes I left myself were remembered (such as bringing my glass with me to toast). It’s just that once I did it, I couldn’t remember if I did it correctly like I wanted to.

Freaky.