Acceptance I was upset with my father shortly after I moved to the city, enough that I didn't talk to him for weeks. I have a temper like this at times; I think it comes with my French blood.

After taking a year off after high school, I worked at our local newspaper and found that I was very suited to it. I enrolled in a related college course, packed my things, and ran towards the bright lights of the city. For the actual move, my father borrowed a utility trailer and threw a tarp over it. I wanted an enclosed trailer, but didn't argue. Dad usually knows what he's doing.

It rained and rained and rained as we drove, and when we got there, most of my things were damaged. Magazines, CDs, comics, movies, writing, my bed. Nearly everything I now had was damaged, and some of it ruined. And all I could do was bite my lip and throw it away.

He was right though. The trailer and a tarp would have been just fine if I had packed for it. I just put things into boxes with my most valuable possessions on the bottom. I didn't know then, and it took me time to realize it, but you have to expect the best and plan for the worst. Always. Things hardly ever work out perfectly, and the only way to eliminate error is to eliminate the possibility of error. Blaming my father was an automatic response to not wanting to accept the blame myself. I can do that now; I'm more human than ever these days.  ¶ 7:44 AM

  Adrien When I was younger, I would make antennas out of tin foil and put one on my bed and another on the television. The logic behind this was that the antennas would transmit better image quality to my dreams. It made perfect sense to an eight-year old.

When I was in grade five, a boy named Adrien transferred to our class. Eric and I invited him to sit with us. He quickly befriended everyone with his jokes and gift for small talk. Later, we found out that we were in fact second cousins, and this brought us even closer together.

In Junior High, Adrien changed. It wasn't immediately dramatic and I couldn't tell you how it happened, but Adrien started to play with the other boys, the trouble-makers. When I found out that Adrien had been drinking and smoking for some time, it didn't phase me. His personality hadn't changed. But slowly I noticed that our relationship was much different. Now every time we talked it was small.

Adrien got into a bit of trouble in grade eleven. I'm not aware of most of the details, but Adrien was expelled. But the next year, he was back with us for our graduating year. To this day, I believe that took a lot of courage. Shortly after graduation, Adrien married his girlfriend, and now they have children and a life together.

Despite all these things, Adrien came through with his usual confident smile. His situation changed, so he adapted.

My dream last night was vivid, like a crystal clear image projected from the television. I was invited to Adrien's wedding and staying in the house that he grew up in. I woke up in the middle of the night and went downstairs, every step creaking the same way they had so long ago. The basement was decorated like a haunted house, like his family did every year at Hallowe'en. Every clothing-stuffed corpse looked like him. They all turned their heads towards me and said, "I beat him."

Him?  ¶ 8:30 PM