"World domination," I stated authoritatively, "is very difficult to maintain for long periods of time."
This I announced to a group of John Neighbor's friends last night over margaritas at Lauriol Plaza.
They were talking about superpowers, and how the Brits, and then the US, effectively ran the world for a while. And speculating on who will be next. (Incidentally, yesterday was the 60-year anniversary of the partition of India and Pakistan. This article is fascinating.)
Of the group, I only actually know John Neighbor, and not all that well.
"Hi! My name is Lisa! You people have no idea what you're in for! Can I have another margarita? And do they have any butter?"
On a slight, or maybe huge, tangent, the night of my birthday I was looking through old photos before I went to bed, and in the process came across all these lovely cards B had written me the first year we were together. They were amazing. He really, really loved me and had visions of spending eternity with me. Before I hurt him and made him angry and vindictive.
And so I went to bed sad about him, nostalgic about the nice times we had together, and sad about the fact that we have absolutely no contact now. It's my choice, and it's better for me. But still occasionally makes me wistful.
That night I dreamt that he and I were on a bus, of all things. I don't even think he takes buses. And I have no idea where we were going. But we were stuck together in this confined space. And so we started talking.
We talked about us, and how we would never be together again. He said that he still loved me, but just wasn't willing to open things up again. Ever.
And then, he said, he was getting married. He was, in fact, soon to marry a German doctor. He didn't love her the way he loved me, but she was a good choice and he thought it was a very practical relationship.
I was telling Christine about this yesterday. She asked how I felt, and I said I was crushed, crying as in my dream as we talked. He still loved me. Why was he marrying her? Who was this German doctor I'd dreamed up?
And she said, "You know, I don't think she's anyone in particular. I think she's a conglomeration of your ex-boyfriends. You put them all together in this German doctor wife."
And that, holy cow, I know it's a dream, but that's so unkind of me. Because while they haven't all been Dementors, there are some serious gems to contend with.