I dreamt I was outside at night

with a lot of people I can’t say I recognize. However, my still-selfish boy-men sons who wouldn’t lift a finger for me, may have been nearby somewhere but I can’t tell. (I can only sense their presence, now awake but did not see them in the dream.) There was some sort of animosity around and it was coming mainly from a dark-haired man. Suddenly, golden stars like those on elementary school papers for a job well done, exploded in a burst in the dark night sky. Wow, I looked up and was amazed at the glorious display and then there was another and a another and another. It was fascinating but to my terror and alarm, the earth beneath our feet suddenly disappeared and we were as standing on nothing but clouds.

There is a red-brick building nearby and it is similar to look or feel as was my elementary school from childhood. I begin to swim-walk through the clouds and see the only person I know amid the crowd. It is D (who in real life is writing a book about love and happiness and who I discussed the topic with at length many a day as I took a break from my own writing at the little cafes where we used to bump into each other). But in the dream he looks confused and scared (or was it unaware?) so I grab his hand, because he is my friend, and tell him we have to get to shelter in the school and I drag him along with me.

Inside, people are hiding from the groundless earth but on one side it is like a restaurant, with tables similar in look and/or feel to the tables at the restaurant that is next door to where I live now. People there seem to simply be dining and enjoying their fare. But before me, there are refugees camping out all over seats, like pews in a church, and on the floor, some in sleeping bags, some with blankets and some with nothing.

Later I dreamt, after waking up scared of unknown natural disaster, that I am in another school, more like my high school. I notice a frosted birthday cake in a bag that was supposed to be for a woman that reminds my of a girl named Louise in high school but also reminds me of a young woman on a women’s forum, whose nickname there is independenteagle and who I believe is a noxious troll (or else I’ve been duped into believing it by other noxious and irritating trolls; mean and hateful is their game and their tireless and mindless but destructive passion).

But I feel the need to bring the cake to Louise/independenteagle even though it’s late and her birthday has already passed. I am in the process of doing what is necessary to bring this cake in the white paper shopping bag with handles, along with other shopping bags full of things with things like decorations and wrapping paper but then I see that members of the church (the one I used to love and trust, but trust no more) are doing it and they’re doing it in a very big way and obnoxious manner.

I am grateful to be relieved of the responsibility but I am aggravated about the largess of the project because it has overtaken all of the rooms in the building, with lots of junk laying about all over the place, so much so that it’s difficult to walk and even dangerous in some areas such as stairwells, etc. As I am trying to traverse one of these stairways, which is like an obstacle course, I mutter something in frustration about the pastor being drunk. Someone hears me and what was a nonsensical muttering, out of frustration to myself, is quickly rumored around the entire congregation. And an exaggerated rumor about what I declared to everyone--gets back to him.

OH! Imagine the scandal.

While standing in line for something, someone tells me they need to see my identification. I tell them I am not required to show my I.D. at church and that it’s an inane request, it seems discriminatory to me; it is discriminatory. Then Pastor McD comes up from behind me and instructs me that I must show my identification. I realize in the dream that this is weird and uncalled for but he’s the friggin boss. (Blah, blah, blah.) As I attempt to retrieve my I.D. from my back jean’s pocket, it gets stuck. I can’t get it out of my pocket. But it is of no consequence because the man-boy behind the desk is too busy gabbing and chattering nothingness and nonsense with brain-dead people who are hovering around him and the man-boy isn’t paying an dit of attention to me. (My lucky day, again.)

However, Pastor McD also added before he left, “I want to see you, you and you,” (pointing to me first) in a voice that is dictatorial/patriarchal. If I would have dared, I would have rolled my eyes and said, “oh brother, would you give it a rest, would you just shut the fuck up you lying conniving (but charismatic) piece of shit.” But of course you can’t say that to your pastor. So, I am waiting around to see him and waiting and waiting and waiting, dutifully as always, but he has been side-tracked and distracted by all the things and all the attendant glory that really get his mojo going. (Ha ha ha; my lucky day.) He’s so transparent, he’s always the same, I don’t really need to listen to his dumb lies anyway.

So in the dream I realize that no one is paying a dit of attention to this farce of a scene, nobody cares about the protocol and directives as they preach/profess, and I begin to plan my way out of there. I go to one exit and am planning to take a shortcut to a place I know (somewhere “over there behind the hill”) but one rare kind and wise soul there advises me that it is not the right way to go because there may even be some danger in that big field of mice and snarky snakes.

So, per his advice, I take the regular path right out the front door even though I will more readily be seen. But no one cares, no one is watching me because no one really gives a hoot even though they like to bark a lot about dumb doctrines and dogmas and requirements and all that moralistic mumbo jumbo. Thus, I am walking down the path and see Auntie A--who I have always respected and watched from afar.

In the dream, Auntie A is watering her flowering plants in front of her simple and humble but beautiful abode and she is the only one around who doesn’t go to the inane church. Auntie A never did go to the church and she is still alive and she is old but to me she is so beautiful. Auntie A is one of my inspirations in life. I have always been encouraged and lifted up by that woman’s values, even though she never so much as invited me for tea (she is really my X's aunt). In the dream I feel validated, vindicated and hopeful that I am on the right path. Amen.

My daughter brought home the rest of my old notebooks

from the dwelling place we escaped three years ago. She put them in front of the space between the wall and my desk so I have to step over them to get behind, and to my computer. I decided to leave the cases and portfolios there and I step over them. This is the best I can do for now to keep people out of the little corner I save for myself. And only myself. Jake will just think I’m my usual slob who never gets around to organizing fastidiously but at least he won’t come into my corner anymore. I hope.

I sat in my hot car with no air conditioning

for a half our waiting for a state-mandated inspection on the last day of the month before it expired. I was sure I would fail. I didn’t sleep last night because I was sure it would fail because I spent so many years driving junk cars that failed every year, just to buy a new junk for another year for whatever I could steal from my budget from bills I could afford (so to speak) to be late on. I’ve spent so long like this I think the 2001 little smart-style car I bought new will fail. Every year I go through this and it amazes me how long it takes to believe that the impoverished days are behind me. Sure I couldn't afford to buy a new car with air conditioning but still, the past is behind me. When will my fears subside?

I used to volunteer a lot

but now I am more selfish with my time because I need to start planning for retirement and focus solely on that. However, I still volunteer my time for my loved ones--but not as readily as in the past.

However, volunteer work can be really good for you if you're at a time in your life that you can afford it. I love all my volunteer experiences and they taught me so much. Much of what I learned I am using now to shore up my career and plan for an early retirement.

Also, it was energizing to give to people. The smiles on their faces and the progress they made will forever make me believe in volunteerism.

I just don’t know how to be in a relationship

I’ve tried so many times and there’s always something I can’t deal with. Yes, yes, I know, I know: I’m bad!

If only I could understand this about relationships or if only I could understand that about relationships.

But what I really really crave is someone to share my life with who can trust that I understand myself.

I’m trying to start a new career today

and I don’t know how to do anything unless I write about it; talk myself into it, so to speak. I’m leaving my lifelong dream behind because after many years and many sacrifices it feels like an unfaithful lover. I was an artist.

Now, I’m going to use my skills and talents to make money in a field that I’m not excited about but can not bear the consequences of poverty. I’m scared, bored and excited all at the same time. (An elderly life as a bag lady is not exciting.) My mind fluctuates as wildly and emotionally as if I was trying to tear myself away from someone I loved so long who did not love me in return.

I just found an interesting site

called CodePink. I'm checking it out but thought I'd pass it along in the meantime.

I Have a Dream

that all women would join hands together to change the world.

Ah, shit

I thought he loved me for my mind and my talents and skills. Shit, it always turns out this way.

I haven't found a man I can live with

but that doesn't mean I'm a lesbian. It may simply mean I'm a woman who was meant to live and breath alone.

When we’re young,

we’ll do things that are unwise, just to impress or please or keep friends or stay within the clique. In other words, we don’t want to rock the boat because we’ll be thrown overboard. When we become more mature, we are thrown overboard one last time and then we learn to swim. We may find other friends who also know how to swim but often we learn to swim alone. Either way, we swim.