2/6
Due to staying up all night watching Aquarius and finishing off a bottle of cheap guinea pinot grigio I was too lazy to write down my first couple of dreams that came with the ice storm. No worries, the third made up for them all. I was back in the house in Oakland only it was different, and there were other occupants including an old balding man. The place had a massive attic, and the old man opened up a grocery store up there. He said it was always his dream. I was flabbergasted by the bins of fresh fruits and vegetables: peppers and bananas. There was a keg of chardonnay, and I filled my fishbowl glass from the floor. But there was more, a lot more. At the far concrete block wall was a set of restrooms and an elevator. Beyond that was another room, a Christmas room, brimming with decorated trees with baskets of ceramics, ornaments, and crafts on the floor. I saw Mummy and Daddy, and none of us could believe it. Daddy was a bit overcome with it all and just sat and rested. The old man took me back to the front of the attic where there was a little room with a window that led out to sea. On a deck were a group of native fishermen and the water was swarming with black and white fish about the size of bluegills with fangs like a terrier. Dreaming, I knew their name, something like spelt. They were thrashing against the glass and broke through, three of them were flopping on the floor. There were a couple other women standing against the wall. I left the room having to use the bathroom. The bathrooms were a surprise: three of them, all different. The third was big for handicapped and pretty standard, but the first two were decorated with wreaths of raffia with red ribbons, hand towels, and other country decor. The first one had a shower with a plastic curtain. None of them locked, however, so I couldn’t use them. Mummy was there, using the second restroom. After leaving I wanted to go downstairs as I knew there were more bathrooms there. First I ran into Tim. He asked me if I could get him a Mountain Dew, and I told them they had Dr. Pepper. Then I met my brother and told him about the natives and fish. There were all sorts of cardboard boxes lining the wall full of an assortment of things including Red Witch who I took. I was wondering what she was doing there and if the old man had looted my dollhouses, only I could not remember seeing them. Then I came upon a girl, who I knew; she told me she was with a guy who I had dumped while taking a bath. I told her that was not how it happened as I was picturing it in my mind: I was in a clawfoot bathtub frothy with bubbles. My hair was tied back, and I had a natural sea sponge. Jess from Gilmore Girls came in, and I told him to get lost or something of the like. Then he, Jess, joined the girl. He was wearing a long dark wool coat and a red scarf. I still had to go to the bathroom, which is common in my dreams because I really have to go. 😂 That’s when I met Matt Koett. I showed him Red Witch, and he asked about the other dolls. I said that I didn’t know that I’d only found Red Witch. I finally reached the elevators where there was a girl with red hair that I’d known in the dream. She was selling fresh vegetables like green peppers and had a sign on her stand that read Live Oats. We spoke for a bit, and I moved on to where a woman was standing at the elevators complaining about missing her flight due to the monstrous market. There was a wall of stuffed animals like pink Squishmallows and lots more behind her when I woke up because I had to go to the bathroom.
2/7
Very sick last night, so I did not dream until morning. I was at a class reunion. It began beneath a yellow and white tent where I was with some dream people that I knew when Janeen joined us, cute and chatty as ever. After she had gone John came in, and when he heard that Janeen had just been there he said that she was such a slut. I told him that I’d heard the same about him, so he left. I was folding a burgundy satin sleeveless gown and a little black sequined shrug in the back corner that I had planned to wear to the outdoor ball later. Then there was a sort of alumni variety show. Theresa was there afterwards although she wasn’t in my class, which I hadn’t thought of. There were others, dream people, that I don’t really know. Theresa and I were in a dark sort of alcove, a place where two doors met. Curt, dressed in black, came in and stood against the door. He was trying to get my attention, “Dana… Dana”, but I was talking to somebody and had my back towards him. He got huffy and left. Theresa said that he was rude as usual. I told her that he had gotten snippy with Susan lately too. Now we had a kind of This is Your Life spread. It looked like a flea market, (I dream about them a lot), but the items were not for sale, they only represented our lives. I was talking to a woman who at first I did not remember, Cindy, maybe. She was accompanied by an older woman with black tied back hair, dressed in gypsy like silk skirts, her aunt. There was a black and white eight by ten photograph of her with her late parents. Supposedly she was some sort of debutante or lesser royalty. She had silk dolls that her aunt had made. When it got time to pack our stuff up and put it away I was helping her. Then I remembered having met her when we were teenagers. I put a little box with yellow and orange plastic gems in a box and taped it up. Her aunt said that it was cheap, and that she hadn’t made it, perhaps, her sister had. I was so busy helping others that I had avoided my own hoard that Theresa was packing up. I looked under a table, there were lots of big cardboard boxes, but they all had somebody’s last name printed in red magic marker on them. I looked at a box of mine that Mummy had sent. It was full of junk including a naked wooden doll with a primitive face wearing a bonnet. Her body was smooth and straight. She was a bit bigger than a Barbie. I noticed a beautiful black and gold Japanese bed with white silk sheets that a woman who was not in my class had in the front of the room. I was thinking that people had brought their very best. Leaving through a sunny glass door like you’d find at a diner, Jennifer Davidson told me to keep in touch. I was thinking that I wouldn’t, but that maybe we’d have a party and how much I liked parties.
