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“Time goes by so slowly for those who wait. No time to hesitate. Those who run seem to have all the fun. I’m caught up. I don’t know what to do.”

I just woke from a nap. Weird dream.

So I’m at this house with people I guess I know but I don’t think I do. They all seem to know each other. It’s dark…but then the streetlights come on and we’re in the backyard of a house on an island…meaning on this plot that there are streets all around it. We were on a hill. Some really jolly tall fat guy shows up…he kinda looks like Meatloaf, and joyfully hugs someone else. He was wearing red? I am starting to see that the porch light is on and that this is a gathering of some kind.

There must be a gap here…like I skipped forward or I am not in another day but there are people still. I guess I must have come outside and they were inside, but near the edge of the house. I look to my right at the back of another house and there is fire coming off it…out of what appears to be a basement window. So I run back over to everyone and yell “FIRE”. … FIRE!!! … FIRE YOU FUCING IDIOTS I NEED HELP HERE. EVERYONE GET WATER OR SOMETHING NOW!

Everyone scrambling around the house finding something was as good an idea as putting the fire out with my spit. There they were scrambling about and not doing ANYTHING. I run into the kitchen and pick up the gravy boat and fill it with water. Running outside pushing people out of my way and making it to the side of the house goes very quickly. But it’s not enough. Someone else came over with a boiling hot kettle of water which was hot. He said sorry…and then someone else came with a porcelain alligator full of water…that you had to shake forward and back to squirt water. I remember stopping for a moment to say how beautiful the little buggah was.

The fire goes out…on the outside…but what of the inside. A few of us broke into the house to see whether there was anyone in there. The house was dark. We started looking for switches. The idea was to get in and get out and not have to talk to anyone, but we then called out. Better to see that everyone is ok. But an alarm clock went off upstairs and a woman woke up. Coming out of the restroom after only just stepping into it she called back down to us to ask why we were there.

We told her there was a fire…and there’s another skip here, but we all eventually walk into the basement. The door to it’s staircase was less of a door and more of an Ikea screeny type thing which you had to drag across the carpet to get open. Mind you, I realize during all of this I have continued to smoke my cigarette which I must have had when I went outside from the other house. You have to open the door, step down a bit and close it from stepping down. It’s just strange. When I looked down there were 5 stories of basement going down…all of which looked like a really nice residential home with grey/light brown carpeting. I was trying not to burn the paper-door when I realized I had my cigatette.

When we got downstairs to check the damage, it turned out we had doused the flame but there appeared to be little damage at all…and a charred baseball cap. No smell. Bit of water here and there that I used to douse my cigarrette when I finished it. But no damage. Surely this is where we were. I could see the instruments of attempted fire-dousing outside the window. It seemed only I was there for a moment. But then on the first floor of that basement, first from the stairs that is, she told us a few things.

Her husband had gone to the airport. She didn’t like flying. She said her happy place was in thie kitchen.Her husband had told her that recently strange things had started happening. Paintings had begun speaking to him, telling him not to go to the airport. She was very very calm saying all of this. She had long black hair, and was a short white woman who appeared to have a healthy tan, not one of those tans a Floridan would have.

This is where I wake up. This is like no dream I have had in recent memory. This is almost a sci-fi flick.

I am always very supportive of the movement against things like cancer, HIV, et cetera. If you read my blog and you’re in DC…here is some information that might assist you! Use it to your advantage.

The Department of Health, in partnership with Pfizer, the Magic Johnson Foundation, and the National Basketball Association, has sponsored “Know Your Score,” a men’s health initiative. Know Your Score informs men about health screening, including glucose, cholesterol, blood pressure, and prostate cancer screening. The Know Your Score campaign is an integral component of the District of Columbia Men’s Health Initiative. The Department of Health launched the initiative to encourage and promote healthier lifestyles for men and make available resources for the prevention and treatment of chronic disease. The Know Your Score program uses a wallet-sized scorecard to record test results and explain each test and score. Men can keep track of their scores, stay informed about their conditions, and discuss them with their health care providers. For testing, screening and treatment information please visit the website for DC Men’s Health Initiative.

HIV Testing and Counseling is available at the Elizabeth Taylor Medical Center, 1701 14th St NW (corner of 14th & R Streets) on Mondays and Wednesdays from 12:30 – 3pm and 4 – 7pm. Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, the hours are 9:30 – 11:30am and 1:30 – 4pm. The nearest Metro is the U Street station on the Green Line. You would need to exit the 13th and U side of the station, walk straight ahead one block to 14th Street and turn left. We’re located on the corner of R Street. There is a suggested donation of $25 for testing. If you’d like to call for more information, you can reach a Counselor at 202-745-6129.

Have a healthy day!

There. I said it. I’m a cynic.

Defined, a cynic is someone who is critical of the motives of others. Not to say that a cynic is distrustful of people to default. One can be made cynical by another’s actions. A cynic is someone who holds close, but not horribly close, their self-control. A cynic realizes that they could be on a path to complete and utter destruction of themselves or others; is perfectly capable of it, but is not due to the recognition that self control is what keeps them alive. It makes no sense to a cynic why the loss of self-control in people doesn’t do more damage in the world. But a cynic also recognizes that some damage is more extensively done over time.

It is also descriptive of a small but influential school of ancient philosophers who advocated the doctrine that virtue is the only good and that the essence of virtue is self-control. They would ‘bark’ at society, attempting to wake them from their conventional slumber. In psychology it is one of the seven attitudes. Cynics view the world in the form of what isn’t…what won’t work.

Perhaps the reason no one likes when someone plays the cynic is because they are wounded that someone actually denigrates things truthfully. Well they shouldn’t be…when the cynic is usually pointing out something they should be sorry for. (See, a lot of people call cynics naysayers or taddletales or the like…when it’s totally not the case.)

At risk of being hasty…I think it’s safe to say I am a cynic. And maybe more people should be. It’s just that I don’t see a lot giving me reason not to be…. I love my life and I am thankful for being in it and I recognize I have great people, friends, family, things, a great job, etc etc etc etc.

But that doesn’t mean for a second I can’t sit here and tell you that no matter how great things are they aren’t as great as they could be…and I’ll tell ya it’s because people don’t consider each other as they should. People don’t treat each other as they should.

Hey you, you’re a person right? Well I am too. I live on this planet too. I’m not running around making anyone’s life hell, so why should anyone else be allowed to do it?

This morning on the subway sitting next to my boyfriend I saw this. I thought it cute so I snapped…but not right away. Between the time I saw and did, someone left a bag and was getting off the train. The girl across from me looked up from her Dune and said ‘hey is that your (not ‘bag’ like we expect) lunchbox? So the person retrieves it. I had also pointed at it vaguely…had my headphones on listening to the new Fiona Apple (but the original cut she didn’t like which I still love anyway). So I’m thinking ‘oh great that could have been -BOOM!- or just a lunchbox’. Would have been my luck to sit right there. Then two metro employees got on…but the second lagged and the first one forced the doors back open for her. She fucking forced the doors. A metro employee. So I snapped the photo. I am writing this while food shopping at Safeway at 645am.