dreams: Friday, January 12, 2001

taking trips

I'm traveling with Tai Devore. We're deciding between two options, trying to choose between two places to drive. Tai wrote out a list of pros and cons for both possible destinations.

Then I'm in a car with Mom. Now we are walking around a bookstore together. I'm looking for a specific book (for young girls?). Then I'm talking to a couple about the cat that the man owns. The cat claws people, but only out of love. He clawed the woman's thighs.

giving and receiving a massage

Then I'm in a little vacation house (in Alaska?). I'm watching two couples staying here. Someone says that Dee said this place makes her horny.

Now I'm part of one of the couples. My lover has brought in two massage therapists. I go into a bedroom and lay down on a mattress pad on the floor, on my stomach. I'm wearing a thin robe. It comes off. The masseuse is a man. My boyfriend is sitting on the floor, to the right of my mattress. The masseuse lays down on top of me, his front pressed against my back. It feels so good to have his weight on me, holding me down. It feels like comfort and security. I then feel a hardness pressing up against my butt, in the crack. I know he now has an erection. He begins rubbing my back. I reach over and hold the hand of my boyfriend as reassurance. He is giving me this man to massage me as a way to get turned on for our own sexual play.

Somehow we end up with the massage therapist in front of me, facing away from me. We are both sitting up. I'm how rubbing his back. It is tan and muscular. He stops and asks me why I'm doing that, since he is supposed to be the one giving it to me. It's my turn to receive. I don't know why I did that. I feel the obligation to please him.

Then two other women are in the room, both blonde. They are nurses. One is explaining how sugar really isn't bad for us. She is conventional, mainstream, and paid by large companies. Her words make me very angry. I'm still lying down on the mattress pad. I tell her that sugar is NOT good for us, that it's actually a drug. I am furious at her ignorance. I poke out one of her eyes, actually pulling the eyeball out of its socket.

a girl or boy?

I'm walking through the downtown plaza of Ashland at night. It is Halloween. A big parade is going on. It's raining. Phoebe is in the parade with her friends. I'm not totally happy with my own costume.

Then I'm in front of Lincoln Elementary School at the bottom of Beach Street. I see Aja Sincerny, and I ask her for a ride home, since she has a car. She says yes.

Then I'm at a party with old Ashlanders (Laurel Hays, Toni Dileo, Mimi, etc.). I'm sitting at a table with Django. He's writing a thank you note to Phoebe because she gave him a birthday present. He asks me if Phoebe is a girl or boy. "A girl," I tell him. I realize he asked because all the families here have such non-gender-specific ways of raising their kids. Many don't fall into the stereotypical gender roles, so it's sometimes difficult to tell if they are girls or boys when they are still young. The kids look like they could be either. "So she's 15 year old, right?" Django asks me. No, I tell him she's now 21.

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