Yesterday marked 2 years of marriage for the wife and me. We spent the day running around Dallas, playing arcade games, and catching a movie (Tron. It’s pretty awesome.)
I’m pretty wiped out, so all I have to say is that I love you, Kristen. And here’s to many more awesome years together.
(This post is inspired by Reverb10)
December 10 – Wisdom Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?
While it may seem silly and whimsical, I would definitely have to say that my wife’s and my Disney vacation was the wisest decision that we made this year. Sure, it cost us some money that probably could have been used a little more pragmatically, but we had such a good time. Relaxing, having fun, not having a care in the world.
With some stress having built up over the previous few months due to various life situations, both at work and at home, we needed to go just have some fun. We rode Space Mountain, we laughed with Monster’s Inc. We had some wine and food at Epcot. We got to see the best concert ever. Got to meet a pretty awesome dude.
Refreshed and recharged, but vacation tired, we returned home. Returned to “real life.” But, at least for me, with a new set of memories, a new set of experiences, which made the day-to-day a little more bearable. A little lighter. A little more fun. And that made the money and the travel entirely worth it.
Perhaps not the most financially sound decision, but definitely the most wise.
The other night, I had a dream so vivid that I awoke short of breath, forcing my eyes to stay shut tight, afraid of what might meet them were they to open. I usually don’t have dreams that I remember. Certainly not ones that are so vivid I awaken in a sweat. I’m going to do my best to do it justice here. Also, I hope it’s not too creepy for you.
~~
The brakes hissed as the bus came to a stop in front of the casino. The weary faces of the elderly and the bored stared longingly through the front glass at the flashing slots inside. Today’s the day. Machines have been tight. They’ve got to give today.
Another day. More overdraft fees. But I’ll hit it today. I’ve got to. Just another $20. Pull. Click. Nothing. Pull. Click. Nothing. Pull. Click. WINNER! Over and over again. Transfixed. Hypnotized. Possessed.
The people on the bus groan as they stand up and exit the bus, blinking back the oppressive summer sun. As they shuffle into the casino, they wince as the squeal of the machines assaults them. The wince is short-lived though, as a smile begins to play on the face of each of today’s big winners. This is home. I’m home. And today, I’m going to win.
None of them head straight to the slots, no. They’ve got breakfast first. On the house. Sure, those pancakes and eggs may be the biggest thing any of them have ever won, but they’re free. On the house. Gratis. Fools. Giving all this food away. I’m going to clean this joint out today. Then where will they be? Shuffling back past the table games, the sounds of the slots behind them grow faint.
Shuffling into the next room, their food awaits them. Cigarettes and syrup. Bacon and coffee. The players shuffle through the buffet. Shuffle to their chairs. No one saying anything to anyone else, just the clinking of plates. The occasional siren from a jackpot winner. Those affect the group the most. Disgust flashing across their faces. That should have been me. Whatever. It was probably a small payout anyway. The lights go out.
A crash. Another. The lights come on. Go out. Screams fill the air. Laughter. But from everywhere, as if every chair and plant were a speaker, laughter pierces the air. Pierces the soul. A child’s laughter, shrill and innocent. It would normally make your heart melt, but now. Now, it was a chill blast, freezing the blood. The screams continued, drowned out by that infernal laughing. What the hell is this? Some sort of joke? Early Halloween? Not funny.
The lights come on. No screaming. No laughing. Just the faint sound of slot machines in the other room. WHAT. THE. HELL. Cigarettes. Syrup. Urine. One of the others must have wet themselves. Several of the older women begin whimpering. Several more have hit the floor, on their knees wailing to God to deliver them from evil.
“Stay here. I’m going to find out what’s going on. These bastards just messed up my day. I was gonna win today.” Terrorists? Practical joke? Robbery?
He opened the door. Cigarettes. Syrup. Urine. Burnt hair. The poker and blackjack tables were all upturned, chips scattered everywhere Oh my god! I should get some.. No. Keep focused. What is going on here? Where is everyone? Carefully picking his way though the debris, he reaches the door to the slot machine floor.
He slowly pushed the door open, and on first glimpse of the casino floor and the acrid stench of burnt hair and flesh reached his nose, he vomited. Cigarettes. Syrup. Death. Vomit.
~~
That’s part 1. I would say that I’m stopping here because I’m out of things to write, but the truth is, the dream is still so vivid in my mind’s eye, that I’m succumbing to my anxiety, and I’ve got to stop for now. I’ll write out more of it tomorrow. Maybe if I can work my way through the whole thing, I’ll be able to let it go. And maybe I can sleep again.
When you are 5: When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut. A fireman. A police officer. A ninja turtle. A G.I. Joe. A fairy princess. A prince. Rich. Famous. Powerful.
When you are 15: When I grow up, I want to be a teacher. A soldier. A college student. An executive. A doctor. A Lawyer. Rich.
When you are 25: When I grow up, I want to be happy. Successful. Rich. A mother. A father. A business owner. My own boss.
It’s funny how dreams and goals change as we get older. They become less fanciful, more practical. And I guess that makes sense. As we get older, we have a better grasp on how things work, on how the world really plays out, and it’s less a matter of being jaded, more a matter of being realistic. Pragmatic. And that’s a good thing, for sure. I mean, not everyone can be an astronaut or a fairy princess.
I guess I’ve just found myself thinking a lot lately about dreams and goals, and how to make them happen. It struck me as funny today how drastically different they are today than they were 5 years ago. 10 years ago. 20 years ago. Today, it’s graduate school, and a PhD, some day teaching as a professor. At some future date, I would also like to open a restaurant, or at least have a giant kitchen where I can cook lots of food for friends and family.
I once had dreams of being an engineer. Of developing weapons. Making things that protect some people and kill others. I don’t now know why I was so interested in that field, but that’s what I wanted to do. R&D development for GE. Now, I can’t even imagine doing that job. I realized that engineering would drive me nuts, and as for the weapons part, I cannot imagine myself building machines made to kill people. But that was the plan. The goal. The dream.
Now, I’d prefer to trade the lab coat for tweed, the calipers for a pen, and a lathe for a poem. And I’m okay with that.
What were some of your old dreams or goals that have now changed to better fit who you’ve become?
