It's pouring rain, wet and miserable out, though still mild. My books for this weekend - paperback editions, by Messrs. Charyn and Benfey - arrived in the mail this morning, the postman tossed the package (in a sturdy cardboard mailer that I'm keeping for reuse) onto the back porch, and I ran down in my pink minotaur outfit to open it.
So all my little plans & preparations for the upcoming weekend are falling into place. I'm mapping a driving route for myself. I plan to leave early Saturday morning, so that I can arrive in good time, get the lay of the land (motel/Amherst campus/Homestead), maybe get in a vigorous walk, and most definitely check in to the motel early so as to have time for a nap, so that I feel rested for the evening. (Though I may be too excited to sleep - but let's not project in such detail.) I have an appointment Thursday afternoon to get my lovely locks trimmed. They are lovely! Which reminds me that I had a bit of a nightmare the other day...
Noted morning of 4 December 2011
Glad to be awake – had a dream that felt realistic, more of a nightmare, glad it wasn’t true. I dreamt that I was living at home, Mama and I were at war. She wanted me to leave the house, but I had nowhere to go. Evidently I had gotten very drunk the night before – but I didn’t remember. Mama started in on me about that – and I told her that I knew she didn’t love me, and for her to get out of my sight. I started getting dressed to go meet 1.0, who was going to be speaking (I think) at the Appellate Division. I dressed in front of a mirror, putting on an ugly green silk top and loud plaid black, white & green jacket. I’d just gotten my hair cut and it was very short, I couldn't stand it. I’d gone for a trim, but the hairdresser had cut off all the length I’d been working on for so long. I was so dejected – feeling desexed & unattractive – that I started to cry. 1.0 would never find me attractive with a haircut like that…***
Fortunately I woke up. My hair’s still long.
I think I've been thinking about the actress Michele Williams - she's so bright & intelligent, but she's been wearing this "pixie" haircut - so improbable since she's currently in the cinema portraying Marilyn Monroe. And plus I don't like the word "pixie" or the look it describes -- I think of a boyish Sandy Duncan (sorry Sandy). But Michele looks nice in that expertly cut, highlighted, bangs on the diagonal pixie cut -- with her freshfaced charm, and gorgeous cut-lace blouse with a Mandarin collar, so sheer that through it an elegant brassiere (white as I recall) showed through...
Pause for reality check -- to take pie, chicken too probably, out of oven. Be right back.
Yes, so maybe that was an anxiety dream. I enjoy having long hair - I think of the old-fashioned phrase - of hair as a woman's "crowning glory" -- and I think there is something to that. I felt very desperate in my dream to be regarding my short hair, trying to fluff the top...
Ah, so I will be super-vigilant at the hairdressers on Thursday -- but L's good - she doesn't go crazy chopping off length, not at all. But that did actually happen to me once, when I first moved up here, with a different hairdresser - who had ideas of her own wholly apart of what I was trying to go for - and so I suppose the nightmare - the prospect of its becoming real - lingers.
Sweetheart - sorry I'm going on about my neuroses. Oh guess what - D's been giving me lessons on pumping gas. So far I've watched him do it.
He said to me this morning, when I mentioned to him that the books I'd ordered had arrived and that all the myriad pieces are falling in place -- ah you sound like Cinderella - going to the ball in her own pumpkin
And this Cinderella will be pumping her own gas!
I know that Lenore is on her way now, and hope she's having a safe & enjoyable trip.
Oh sweetheart, this post is a mess, but it's a fairly accurate snapshot of moments from today... which included a moment (more like twenty minutes, I needed time to get going) with you... it was mild enough that I didn't need a coat...
I should get back to that Shakespeare book I've been reading... I haven't cracked a book in days - no, that's not true, I started reading Pale Fire, when I lay down for a nap, and (though very intrigued) I fell asleep, and when I woke I set about to bake pie...
Dearest love, oh my dearest, I hope wherever you are you are having a cozy, delightful, warm, charming evening. Here it's cold and wet out, I can hear the rain. But - as in my heart - all is warm and loving and cheerful and exciting and anticipatory within --
goodness, I certainly don't wish to overdo things -- darker aspects of myself are cringing and emoting in the form of giant silent sarcastic eyerolls...
sweetheart -- how can I kiss you in letters? typing, typing, typing
oh my darling