dreams: Wednesday, July 18, 2001
I'm in Ashland, in a store similar to the co-op. There is one pair of shoes that are on sale for a good price; they are like black plastic clogs. I like them, so I buy them. Then I realize that I already have a pair of shoes that are almost identical -- fabric instead of plastic. I decide to go return my other pair of shoes for a white pair (so I'll have some variety).
A goodbye party is happening at another store in Ashland (the co-op?). I'm on my way there. I meet a young man who is big and strong. I'm attracted to him. We go on a date. I invite him to this party. We get in his truck to drive there. He ends up accidentally driving to the wrong place. I assumed he'd know how to get there; our communication wasn't very clear. We are now out in the country -- the rural area around Ashland. I get out of the truck. We're on some country property next to a hinky-dink home.
Troy Henri walks up with his blonde brother. Troy is young (middle school age), looking pudgy, with fat cheeks and longer hair. He's shorter than I am. I grab his shoulders and pull him up to a taller height. I want him to be taller than me, like I know he really is now. I partially realize it's a dream, so I take control of the situation and see him as the current Troy. But then he slides back down to his young short self. I hope I'm not upsetting my date by giving so much energy to Troy. Troy is not responding to my energy anyway.
Then I'm sitting in a restaurant. I'm with a strong, sportsy, tall woman. We're in a dark room with a lot of tables. The menu is a book that actually has a plate of each dish in it. I turn the pages to see the actual food, trying lots of bites. I eat a baked potato and then french fries (or some other potato dish?). I'm still hungry and need protein. I turn the page and eat some meat. This food is totally American -- meat & potatoes.
fat = somber or powerful?
I'm standing on the 2nd-story deck of 248 3rd Street. I'm looking across the street, up to Veronica's old folks' home on the corner of B Street. I see an old fat woman open a window next to the stairway. I see her hobble up the stairs. She has fat ankles. I can hear into her psyche. I hear her singing a song; it's very heavy and somber. She has a dark life.
I'm balancing on top of the railing of the deck, standing on a post. I'm picking my nose; it feels like there's a big booger in there that needs to come out. I'm also putting a lot of pressure on the railing. I step down onto the deck, stepping back. There is another wooden railing that runs perpendicular to the front, dividing the deck into two sections. I hold onto it. The post that I was standing on (which joins the front section with the perpendicular railing) tips forward and falls off the deck, smashing to the ground below. It pulls down the post next to it as it falls. I realize it was dangerous for me to be standing on it earlier. I probably loosened it up and am responsible for its collapse.
Then I'm in the house, downstairs in the computer room. I call Granny. I get an answering machine. Many of my relatives speak for the opening message -- I don't recognize all of them. After it beeps, I list all the names of the people I heard, acknowledging them and giving them my love. (Madison, Granny, Alex, Lisa and others.)
Then I'm watching television. President George W. Bush is on a talk show hosted by a country western female singer. She speaks in a southern accent. Bush is dressed up in a tuxedo. He seems very feminine; his body has a lanky build and delicate movements. I think about how it would be to be president of the United States. No wonder he's a celebrity! He's the leader of a big country. He's still just a person though. I can see that Bush has slight discomfort. He sits there on a couch with the host, and he doesn't really know what to say. Like a little boy. He reaches out and fingers the ends of the host's shoulder-length hair. "This is new! You dyed it red," he says. She agrees.
Then I'm watching a cooking show hosted by a VERY large young woman. She has dark hair and is beautiful, despite taking up a lot of space with her fat body. I see that her size somehow gives her more power. She is standing behind a counter. Another female celebrity is a guest on the show (Demi Moore?). The host is making an omelet in a huge cast iron skillet. Now I'm her, seeing through her eyes. My guest slipped into the back room to blend ice cream for a milkshake. There is an audience and cameras in front of me. I'm breaking eggs into the skillet. I only mix them up once they're all in the pan, which surprises me at first. I see that this is the gourmet way.
a precise ceremony
I'm at a big shindig led by a powerful, esteemed, rich, old man from Europe. He has a wacky personality (reminds me of Charles Rodmil). It's a funeral ceremony or something. Everything is done in precise ways -- by his rules.
I go to the bathroom. There are some little kids in here. Their toys are all over the floor. I small girl tells me I can go pee in here. She stays, still playing.
get off my body!
I'm in a foreign land. I just made it through a passageway: a weedy, burly field with plants taller than me. I made it to the other side, but when I look down, I see that I'm covered in tons of prickly little plant droppings that clung to my nice skirt and shirt, sticking to the fabric with sharp tiny nettles. I start picking them off, even though it pricks my fingers. I really want them off of me. There is a male friend who is helping me. He's more experienced with this land.
I see a sign that says if you want to get the prickles off of yourself, you have to jump up and down three times with true vigor. I do it, feeling like I'm using my body language to say, "you can't cling to my body!" I also see gross wormy creatures stuck to my clothing. I pick them all off as fast as I can. But there are still many stuck to me.
I'm walking down East Main Street, in Ashland, at the top of 3rd Street (next to my bank). I hear Mom's voice. I hear her mention my name, as well as Phoebe's. She is talking to a group of female friends. I remember that there is a small church on the right side of 3rd St., a couple houses down from the top. They probably just got out of an AA meeting. I decide to go say hello.
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