Dreams: February 6, 1998

ski prep, a new Ashland, and Erin as a model

Django and I are going to go skiing on Mt. Ashland. I first need to get some money, so I go to John's house. As I walk in the front door, I see that it looks just like it used to (before the remodel), with the couch against the front wall, a big armchair and John watching TV. John gives me some money, and I go to a shop in town that rents skiing equipment. Django and Mom are there with me. The store also sells ice cream, which sounds really good to me.
Then we are going through town, heading up to the mountain. Ashland is now a huge city, its downtown spreading out for many metropolitan blocks. The streets are wide and busy, crowded with cars. As we go past a big designer department store, something catches my eye: a row of square photo ads stretched across the front of the building, above the doors. Erin Greeson is in one of the photos. It is a large square close-up head shot with her profile. She is turned to the left and is wearing a navy jacket with a hood that's up in the air, off her head. Her hair is billowing out, and she looks like Botticelli's Venus.

cleansing my white sheets

NEXT, I'm in my room. I look down at my queen-sized bed and see that there is a chair sitting on it, the covers pulled back so that the legs of the chair are on the inner sheets. It has gotten them dirty. It angers me. I call for Phoebe, who's in the house. She indeed did it. I pull off the chair and feel like I need to cleanse everything in my room. I have a hose in my hand. It is blasting a steady stream of water. I aim at the bed, watching the grains of dirt get washed off my white sheets. I sweep the stream of water over everything.

adolescent flirtation

NEXT, I'm outside with a group of people (most women). Noli is here with me. A group of guys approaches us. I feel like I'm in middle school again. Some of the guys have squirt guns. Noli knows them. Somehow I get ahold of two of the water pistols; I'm squirting the male group. In my left hand I hold a pink gun, while in my right hand I have a black gun. I aim at one guy's face, and both streams of water hit him, crossing in an X right before they reach his face. It's all in good fun, a form of flirtation. He's powerless because I have all the waterguns. I have all the decisive power. I go to the group and give Noli the pink gun. A boy comes up to her and tries to grab it out of her hand. She giggles and can't hold onto it, so the guy gets it away from her. I angrily tell her that all she had to do was not let go of the gun.
There is one particular young man who I really like in the other group; his name is Evan. He is the oldest, and it seems like they're all brothers. I feel like we're meant to be together, because I am the oldest "sister" in my group. We are all now inside a big room. The exchanges are now friendly. I'm reading a love letter that Evan just wrote to me. I have a real crush on him. The guys are sitting in a row of chairs up on a higher level against the wall. I'm about to go approach Evan when a phone rings. I answer it. It's Will Mackintosh, calling for me. It sounds like he's down in the dumps, kind of lonely and sad or something. I want to cheer him up. He says he might take a little getaway trip to New Orleans this weekend. I get a vision of people throwing their Mardi Gras bead necklaces up into the branches of trees. I tell Will I might be interested in going too. He says he'll call me if he goes. We hang up.
I'm kneeling behind a big wooden divider near the boys. I'm wearing a miniskirt and a tank top. I see that I'm not wearing a bra and that my nipples are pertly showing through, so I decide to wer my down vest over it. I find a roll of Italian cookies in the inside pocket, left there from my trip to Rome (those same cookies that triggered my final sugar binge). I want to eat them and have no qualms about it, but I decide to save them for later.
When I get up to go find Evan, I'm in LPAC's dance studio. A yoga/African dance class has just begun; the teacher is leading everyone through a rhythmic stretching exercise. All of the students are staggered across the wooden floor, each in a ball on their backs, moving backs/pelvises/legs in an interesting way. I'm looking at them all from above aas I carefully step around them to get to the door. I see Anne Holland; she has a serious snotty look on her face, but she's doing the whole thing wrong, which makes me laugh inside. I see my Evan doing it over on the other side of the room.


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