Things Are A Little Different Now

I am getting a ride to school from my parents because I am late to dance. As we drive up Roosevelt I need to hop out, and they are looking for a place to eat. There is a large beige building on the corner with tiny windows very high up- I can hear the cooks laughing and having a good time, but why are they so high up? Inside it is plastic and themed.

I go to school, looking for some place to eat lunch. I walk east past about 5 tiny shops. I get around the corner and run into Julia and Andrea- we walk back looking for a good restaurant. My dad is there and orders pizza from one of the shops. I try to get some, but they are in the process of transitioning to a Greek restaurant. I try to order some hummus, but they haven't transitioned far enough into the Greeks theme to be able to serve that. There are only peach-filled cinnamon rolls.

In the car driving past Shorewood with Jen the 5.0 and Matt, I am in back seat and make fun of Matt, referencing the good ol' times. Jen says she knows, she has pictures too.

We visit Roderick in his new dorm. Everything he brought with him is colored bright red-orange.

We all go out to dinner, and Roderick brings along his new girlfriend, who looks and acts like a 10 year-old. Rod seems to think it's cute, and calls her sweetie pie and makes kissy faces as he straps her into a large high chair.

What the Hell Is Going On?

My alarm has gone off.

I am awoken by my mother and sister returning to the house. I am alarmed, because if they are back, it means I have missed the IB test, which is at one o'clock. I glance at the clock. It says 5:07.
My watch says 2:38.
Panicked, I run out into the family room in my pajamas. The wall clock says 11:43.
My watch now says 7:24.
My father sits at the computer playing Everquest.
"Dad, what time is it?"
He tells me it is 11:43, like the clock says. I sigh in relief, but do not bother to reset all the clocks that are wrong. I know they will simply get off as soon as I turn around.
On the coffee table are mounds of food that look absolutely delicious. My mother and sister are sitting on the sofa, stuffing their faces. They have returned exhausted and famished.
The After Eight Mints and the bean dip are especially tempting, but I am not allowed to have any, as my IB test is in ten minutes. I am sorely disappointed. They will eat all this food without me.
"That guy was so wasted," my mother proclaims around a mouthful of chocolate. "Wasted."
"He always is."

I wake up, my alarm going off again. I try to roll out of bed to shut it off. I open my eyes to find that my floor has become cold and grey, and it is covered in maps of France and Europe. I am trying to put my feet on the floor, but something is obstructing me. Opening my eyes further, I realize that gravity is pulling me from the right. Instead of facing the center of my room, I am, in fact, facing the wall, with my feet up against it. No wonder I couldn't get out of bed.

Never before has sleep been that disorienting.

Back to the Present

I enter a restaurant/cafe, similar to the ice cream parlor in Fairhaven, and my companion orders a drink. I pass for the moment and notice something odd; all of the espresso machines (there are several) and situated to face outwards from the counter, so the baristas have to come all the way around to make your drink. We head over to the south side of the cafe.
--
Instead I find myself speeding in that direction at a high rate of speed in the driver's seat of some sort of futuristic hovercraft. Doc sits next to me, yelling out directions to dodge our pursuers, who shoot at us with laser beams. I pull down violently on the steering wheel and the vehicle lurches upward steeply. All we can see in front of us now is a star-speckled void. Then slowly, we begin to tip forward, increasing our speed with little hope of avoiding crashing directly through the Wal-Mart below. I turn to the passenger, who is now my companion from the cafe, and inform him/her of our fate. At this point the screen in front of us goes blank and the motion of our car freezes. Instead, the screen illustrates in glowing green arches our projected path of destruction. My companion asks, "Why bother to tell us, when we're going to die anyway?" I point to a blinking arch on the screen, tilt my head sideways, and trace it with my finger. "Because this is the path we're going to take."
Everything unfreezes, and we glide gracefully to the ground.
We step out of the car, no longer very concerned with our pursuers, and walk up the steps to the courthouse. I pass an ugly Asian prostitute with a vicious expression.
--
I step up to the counter, telling the barista not to get up, I'll take care of my drink. I steam pitchers of chai and milk at once. The milk heats much more quickly, and as I turn it off, the chai expands rapidly, threatening to run over and make a mess. Moving at an alarmingly slow pace, I manage to turn the steam off before disaster strikes. I begin to pour the syrupy liquid into a paper cup, but realize I am going to have too much, so I pour the rest into another cup. Adding milk and tasting the result, I realize I have made a serious error in ordering sweet chai, but say nothing. The barista compliments my milk. I thank her and stutter something between "I've been working on it" and "Practice helps". As I finish pouring, another barista rushes up, crying, "Someone's friend is on the phone, he needs to say something but he's about to leave the airport!" With a jolt I realize this is Alex, and I need to say goodbye, although I didn't think it was summer yet. I sprint across the room and seize the phone, but it has already gone dead.
--
Inside the courthouse, I dash up the marble steps, frantically looking for the prostitute. I hope I will recognize her, because she has probably changed drastically in the time that has passed since I first saw her on the stairs out front. I realize now that she is the key to the mishap in time travel. I spot her on the next floor propositioning a lawyer, and I make towards her urgently. The lawyer is annoyed that I think I have a higher priority than him, and the prostitute just looks creeped out, and shuffles away. Growing more frantic, I reach out and grab her arm.
--
In the restaurant, I give Alex a hug. He tries to give me a paper plate for the buffet, and I hug him again. He asks if I have been drinking, and I respond, "No, but I probably should."
The buffet is gorgeous and vegan, with plates of steamed corn, rice, roasted peppers and asparagus. I fill my plate but realize we are late getting to it, and there isn't much food left. I put some back, even though I am starving.
--
Alex, Michelle Burce and I take a walk behind the Wal-Mart. Michelle carries a blanket in a plastic sack, and insists that we take it, because she can't stay to watch the meteor shower. I still don't believe it is summer already.

Let It Be

I am riding in the car with my mom through the middle of nowhere. The only monument in sight on the beige plain is a giant casino, which we leave behind. Finally, up ahead I spot a square building and parking lot. My mother begins driving insanely fast, and I assume it is a bank that we must reach before it closes, but it turns out it is just a cheap shoe store. We do several 360s on the parking lot as my mom tries to figure out if it is closed, and then we screech out of the parking lot back to the casino.

In the parking lot of the casino, I try to move about unnoticed, following someone. This is made easier by the fact that the cars are replaced by tall objects, somewhat like anthills. I catch up to the person I am following, and then some events take place which involve me giving a piggy back ride to this person, trying to dance while doing this, and him becoming paralyzed. My uncle arrives in the parking lot, and I gather from his presence that the paralysis of the person on my back is a hereditary disease that his family didn't want me to know about. He says nothing, being paralyzed, but I know he wants to.

The casino is also High School, and I am visiting Kelly Mason. She tells me about her schedule and I ask if she has much homework. She says she has a ton, and very little time to do it in, but her mother will help her by typing up her lab report. I laugh, wishing I could get my parents to help me with my homework when I am busy.
Kelly starts to say something else about her job, but I don't hear what she says, because I have begun singing "Let It Be". I look her in the eye, indicating that I can't stop now, and in any case singing is what's most important in this moment. Matt Kent understands and joins in.

We go to lunch in the cafeteria, where the cashier charges me $1.50. There is so much good food, I am amazed, and wish I could eat like this every day.