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my actions, not words, have been censored

standing outside the union this morning, with my cup of coffee and cigarette in hand, a woman coming towards me from a news van asked to speak with me.

woman: hi, are you an undergraduate here?
me: yeah.
woman: do you think i could talk to you for a minute?
me: sure, if you want to.
woman: my name's Emily Ryan, i'm here with Channel 4 news because the board of trustees just decided to raise your tuition by six percent.
me: yeah, isn't that great?
Emily Ryan: i was wondering if you'd like to comment on it at all for me?
me: sure, it doesn't matter that I'm smoking on camera, does it?
Emily Ryan: no, don't worry, we won't show that part.

so now i'm wondering if they'll just edit my comments in such a way that it doens't appear that i'm smoking, or if they'll mosaic the cigarette in my hand. i guess i'll find out at noon when the piece airs.

greg osisek / / / |
dream i had the night of 7.13.04

i dreamed it was the weekend and i was hanging out with a friend who was telling me about a hangover a girl i used to date had while we ate chicken tenders and french fries in the back of a car driven by a white man i didn't know and his black friend.

in the dream i remember talking to homeless people who asked me not to give them money.

at some point i was suggesting two happy songs and two sad songs for my friend to review on her website to which she had just created an annoying flash intro. i don't remember the happy songs, but the sad ones were "Hallelujah", performed by Jeff Buckley (written by Leonard Cohen) as well as Buckley's "Lover, you should have come over."

i was told the aforementioned hangover, that the girl i used to date had, was attempted to be cured by drinking more gin at an early hour of the morning. afterwards, she urinated on my friend's clothes.

Lt. Worf blew up a Willie Nelson billboard in an attempt to have the pieces fall to the ground and block off some kind of cave.

greg osisek / / / |

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