In my nightmare... 
    It was a party, a large one, with many games and activities, music, people talking animatedly. El Prez was throwing this huge reception including lots of people I didn't know, many his well-monied Jewish friends whose entire world is incomprehensible to me, not because of religion, but because of class. It was a confusion between his son's bar mitzvah and what it really was, a wedding reception. I had just married Zach. 
    It was a complete farce because we were getting married to help Zach out. For some reason he needed to be married to fulfil a legal obligation, and neither Chloe nor Lisa could help. So the obligation fell to me. 
    El Prez, I knew, disapproved of the arrangement, but kept this to himself during hte reception; he was very lively and accomodating. I wore a fake smile, was in extreme pain inside. Zach was off somewhere with Chloe. 
    The party died down and I found myself on a sofa beside him, in a suddenly empty room, a bamboo-walled room. It was the so-called honeymoon on an island paradise. Neither of us had anything to say. We just sat there. I felt like my insides were being scraped out with a cheese grater. 

    I was asked recently, "Why do you let these internet people get to you?" These internet people. At the time the way it was said was as though they were tiny aliens that live in the circuitry, not people at all. Gremlins or something. But you are internet people, aren't you? Don't you have a mind and feelings and a whole life? Aren't you real? Yet you are on the net. What separates you from anyone else using a computer? 
    Real people, real feelings. Real hurt, real joy. It's all out there, just like it's in your house, in a bar, in the supermarket, in your place of work. 

    I'm at the Huz's right now trying to update via laptop. Remind me never to get one of these. I'm doing a lot of swearing here. I have a long journal entry in my head all ready to go, but my difficulty with this machine may result in a postponement. In fact, yes, it will.