12.26.05 - 1:05 a.m.

If nothing else, Christmas Eve is holy because the usual business of consumerism is temporarily halted. Every store is closed, from McDonald�s to Wal-Mart to CVS. Europeans might not have the same expectation of constant retail service that Americans do, but at least on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, we know what it is to have all the local stores close.

That�s it: that�s my favorite part of Christmas. Even if I didn�t have Christmas mass, Christmas caroling with the family, Christmas trees, Christmas presents piled up so high that none of us could see each other above them until we burrowed through them with happy Christmas shovels, Christmas dinner (both the traditional crab imperial on Christmas Eve and the traditional turkey dinner on Christmas day), Christmas cookies (this year: peanut butter snickers [Aunt Barbara], Mexican chocolate cookies [dad], Scotchies [dad], maple pinwheels [mom], thumbprint jellies [dad], chocolate walnut [me], almond orange [me], chocolate ginger [me] and hazelnut balls [me], Christmas fruitcake (fresh coconut and raisin, both dad), Christmas mimosas (me).

Last night I had the strangest dream, although no reindeer were involved.

In perfect dream logic, I learned that I had a piece of some insane criminal mastermind, psychotic something or other. Some bad guy had distributed portions of his essence in a number of people around the country, perhaps the world � although apparently, just in the vicinity of my own little part of it, in order to conceal it from someone who would have otherwise stopped him. After remaining quiescent for some time, the criminal mastermind awoke from wherever it was he was hiding � maybe he was reborn, this is all background stuff, important to the story, one supposes, but understood in the dream, rather than explicated � and somehow I found out that I was one of the people from whom he needed to recover himself, in order to become all powerful and take over the world.

In order to stop him, I first had to rescue all the other people similarly endowed. He was hunting them, one by one, to regain the power he had scattered around the world � of course, somehow he managed to scatter a significant plurality of such endowed individuals within close proximity to a college (nameless, but not unlike Marshall) with which I had some peripheral connection. My old friend, Erran, was my advisor. He helped me find the others, and spoke to me, either through some sort of device or via an earpiece tucked around the shell of my ear.

I stalked the others; he stalked them, too. One by one, I rescued them, and brought them back to Erran. His boyfriend Morgan � a property manager, perhaps owner, with a local apartment leasing company � made arrangements for the men and women I rescued to stay in various apartments, although most of them camped out with Morgan and Erran in command central, a nameless conference room somewhere on campus.

In the end, we found each other, my bad guy and I, on a relatively crowded street, with storefronts and balconies and sidewalk cafes, while we were both stalking another of his endowees. I shot red laser beams with my eyes through sheer force of will. We fought a battle of wills that nonetheless involved a reasonable number of explosions, smoke, fires, and scorched and burned bystanders. I won, and saved us all.

I returned to the conference room, and Erran, Morgan and some of the nameless others and I started debriefing � when I woke up and the dream ended. I suppose that, now, I will never discover the true extent of my top secret powers.