cosina
"I think being a woman is like being Irish." — Iris Murdoch
dream A sweet romantic story. I don't know whether it's fiction.
[Changing subject, but not wanting to start another blog entry for it:] Last night I had this dream that seemed significant. I was out in the country and helping out some people, including an old (real-life) friend I call the Poet/Stockbroker (he is both old and an old friend). Everyone seemed kind of irritated with me, although I had no idea why. I was pretty busy, but for some reason I was wearing this sleeveless, knee-length, peach-colored dress. In spite of it looking like a bridesmaid's dress, it was quite comfortable. It was some kind of soft, light, shiny material, and had a transparent layer on top of it, and I was quite aware of all my movements... not that I was thinking about it, but I was sort of automatically careful... the dress was spotless, and I was keeping it that way in a sort of effortless effort.
[Changing subject, but not wanting to start another blog entry for it:] Last night I had this dream that seemed significant. I was out in the country and helping out some people, including an old (real-life) friend I call the Poet/Stockbroker (he is both old and an old friend). Everyone seemed kind of irritated with me, although I had no idea why. I was pretty busy, but for some reason I was wearing this sleeveless, knee-length, peach-colored dress. In spite of it looking like a bridesmaid's dress, it was quite comfortable. It was some kind of soft, light, shiny material, and had a transparent layer on top of it, and I was quite aware of all my movements... not that I was thinking about it, but I was sort of automatically careful... the dress was spotless, and I was keeping it that way in a sort of effortless effort.
No thingies - what?
