You Can Dream On Me

It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't. Mean. Anything.

"Miss You" has been on the Brian Top 40 since September. "Let it Bleed" is making its way up the charts with every passing minute. I fucking love it.



I contacted my high school nemesis last week. Nemesis is too strong a word, really, I'm the first to admit. And apparently the word has a lot to do with retribution, which I never knew. But one of the definitions according to www.dictionary.com is "an opponent who cannot be beaten or overcome." I think that could work. In an attempt to dramatize my teenage life into epic proportions, I created a nemesis, even if there wasn't one there.

I wrote him because I think I will be in his vicinity this week and would like to see him. (Maybe he can feel my presence. A real nemesis would be able to do that.) And colleagues left and right are confused about why. I don't have anything in particular to say to him, that's true, but I feel like I should check up. What if he isn't my nemesis anymore? I mean, I never hated him. He was more Professor X to my Magneto. The mutant world of music geeks and AP nerds is small, so you run in the same circle, and despite your opposing worldviews (which you didn't have, remember, because you fabricated this whole thing in the first place), you team up as circumstances require: a Bio lab, a slow Friday night. For seven years our fates were intertwined. Remember the Physics Award? A coin toss. Even if he wasn't my friend, he was still essential.

Sidenote: I don't let go of things, and by things I mean people, easily. I feel it is a very un-Aries-like quality. Not that I know much about my astrological profile. I DO know that my nemesis is one of the few Aries contemporaries to cross my path. As two rams, we apparently butt heads.

Today I don't know who my nemesis is, but it's probably myself or something. And he's a much trickier one. Curious and destructive. That bitch Mother Nature got nothin' on the Prince of Mystery.

...Though she has turned Janine into a dirty slut. No real nemesis these days, but I talk to my car!

Nemesis hasn't written back.

And I had to do something I really didn't want to do to get his email.


In office news, Brian attempts a joke insinuating that a co-worker jerks off to The Economist. It's DOA.