Natalie Portman loves to inhabit my dreams

Natalie Portman has been in 2 of the last 3 dreams I can remember.

In the first, I just happened to meet her at a beachside resort where she worked at a Juice Bar/Lone Blackjack table. I walked up, confident as a dream stud, placed a 9,000 dollar chip on the table (I've never seen a 9,000 dollar chip either), and, in the blink of my third eye, I lost. Can't remember what the cards were, suffice to say, I busted. She was nice about it, seeing the loss of innocence in my dream eyes, and offered to return the chip. I said I couldn't except it, because that's what you are supposed to say right before accepting it. She said It's no problem, and I accepted it. Time passed as it does in dreams, and, days later, I found myself again at the Juice Bar/9,000-chip-accepting blackjack table. Me and Natalie formed quite a friendship by that time and in the middle of a conversation, of which the beginning I can't recall, she asked if I could get her wallet from her hotel room. I said sure, and she handed me her keys. The hotel room door was unusually large, too wide and square. On it was a collage of Superman posters, and I made a mental note to tell her that I loved Superman. The door opened about 6 inches and abrubtly stopped at someone's foot on the ground. Somebody with a latino accent said sorry, opened the door, and, to my dream suprise, it was Gael Garcia Bernal, Natalie's on-and-off boyfriend. He was in a towel, looking as if he just woke up. I said I had come to get Natalie's wallet and he fumbled with his words and talked much like he did in The Science of Sleep, which I told him I liked. Looking for the wallet in Natalie's bedroom, I chanced a quick glance at a photo album she kept on the table. Instead of family or friend pictures, however, the ablum exclusively contained more pictures and drawings of Superman. Could she be as obsessed as me? I was eager to find out. After finding the wallet I returned to the living room to find Gael fastening his cufflinks, still mumbling. I said goodbye and left out of a normal sized door...

In the second, a few of my friends from school and I were walking down Commonwealth Ave. towards Kenmore Square and Natalie Portman just happened to run into us. And, normal as anything she gave me a giant hug, held my hand, and walked with us to a place I did not know. As we walked, she couldn't refrain from kissing me on my neck and cheek and lips. We all laughed and talked and kept walking. Karim, my roomate, (or perhaps somebody else) said: "This is the place," and we stopped to turn into the restaurant it seemed, and I realized we were going out to breakfast. The place was below ground level, as many things are in Kenmore, and while the others headed in, Natalie and I sat on the steps, talking and kissing. She put her hand down my elastic sweat pants, giggled and said "I can't wait until later." At which point we stood and made our way into the restaurant...

There you have it. Who knows what will happen next in the adventures of Me and Natalie? Not me. The weird thing about these dreams was I woke up feeling like I knew her, and she knew me, as close friends (or more). Like if I called her up now, we could talk about these instances that happened in a fantasy dream world. But that's nonsense. Or maybe she's dreaming the same thing.

The Tower Falls

Sometime in between 4-7pm on Sunday April 22, 2007

Working at my desk, everything seemed normal, on a day when the weather was particularly pleasant. I noticed a drizzle fall from the sky, then a mist, then a blanket of rain. I quickly closed the window that was open and continued on with my work. Time passed. How much time? I am unsure. The next time I chanced a look out, the water level had reached my window, 11 stories up. I was overcome by fright and my thoughts strayed from rational realms. Amidst the downpour, I still felt safe in my dorm, like I could hold out inside until the water subsided. But before long the I felt the giant tower begin to shift and sway. My belongings and I were tossed about the room. The swaying became more violent until a loud and vibrating CRACK rang out in the foundations of the tower. Slowly, C tower fell. We floated our giant dorm ship horizontally on the new Ocean covering Boston.

My door opened suddenly. It was Mr. Wright, my 8th and 10th grade algebra teacher, a big man with a white beard that bears an uncanny resemblance to Santa Clause. "We have to get out of here before she goes under!" As I crawled into he hallway I was amazed at the terrible looting that was taking place. People were running in and out of every room stealing all that they coud grab. I made my way to the convenient store on our floor and took enough food that would last me for the time being.

Mr. Wright approached me...