Archive for May, 2002

May 27th, 2002

» the banks of the Mississippi

I went to the Melaleuca Freedom Celebration down on Harriet Island tonight with my parents, Mel, and her boyfriend Travis. (We dig Travis around the W— household. He’s the one who taught me how to make people “ride the bus”, which is a cool cop maneuver to get a person’s arm behind their back. Yeah, he’s a cop, so I harass him mercilessly. “Would you pull them over? How about them? What about that guy, would you pull him over? What would you do if — ?” He’s so nice about it, though.)

Ahem, so, Freedom Celebration. It was the biggest fireworks display ever put on in Minnesota. I forgot to check my watch after it was over, but I think it was close to an hour long, and it was all neatly choreographed to music from 107.9, though I was a little put off by some of the music and quotes. They talked about all of the freedom of religion in America, but all we heard about in the songs was God and Jesus. I wouldn’t've minded that so much, except I’m sort of miffed that freedom of religion in America seems to mean we hear about Christianity at all public functions, and that alienates me. I am an American. That does not make me a Christian. I would feel the same way no matter what religion was being put forward.

Actually, I wasn’t all that annoyed. There were pretty lights flashing in the sky, and it’s hard to get annoyed when that’s happening. I love fireworks. I used to be absolutely thrilled and scared at the same time to go to them on the fourth of July. The fireworks seemed closer and louder back then. I would lie on my back on the banks of Lake Independence (or Long Lake, or whichever town’s fireworks we’d decided to go to that year) and the umbrella ones (my favorite at the time) would jump at me, open right over me, fall all around me. They were louder, too. Every explosion echoed in my chest. I worried about dying prematurely, about my heart stopping, about my hearing slipping away.

Outside of the grand display, I think the neatest part of the evening happened while we were walking in. We parked at the River Centre, and we decided to walk instead of taking the shuttle. (Oh, that reminds me! While we were going across the Wabasha bridge, we ran into my Uncle Lyle and Aunt Doris, who I haven’t seen since my high school graduation. So, two years. It was neat.) Along Water Street we passed these two guys in their early twenties sitting on a bench with an open guitar case at their feet. One was playing guitar, and the other was singing a little and holding a notebook open on his lap, in which he’d written with pen and different colored highlighters: “Everybody needs a miracle.” He probably meant them — and I wanted very badly to be able to give them one, write them a huge check or put them in contact with the right people — but in a neat way I think they were also somehow making miracles for someone else. Offering…something. Not We need a miracle but Everybody.

Everybody needs a miracle.

May 19th, 2002

» inside a pc

I dreamt, then, of being in a large, dark house. I don’t remember the beginning of this one well; it is full of navigating through dark corridors and finding hidden rooms to reveal clues that would direct me further. At length I realized I was in the middle of a computer game. Around this time I came upon Jocey and her sister sitting in front of a desk with a computer on it. They told me they were playing a computer game designed for the N— family (this was the same computer game I was at that time still inside). I thought it was very neat indeed that someone had made a computer game for their family. Then M— asked me about my nonfiction project for school as she was signing onto AOL with my password. I talked to them for a bit and then moved on in the house.

May 19th, 2002

» visiting Tori

Let me preface this by saying I have now dreamt of going to Tori concerts on three separate occassions. The first I did not write about after it happened. The second I have recorded only this: It was fantastic because there was almost no one there, so our crappy tickets became front row when Tori had the empty chairs taken out. She was wonderful and gracious and just like last time we had a private little Q&A with her afterwards.

In the third, which was last night, I was again quite close to the stage. Tori came out and said she was giving things away, and began taking requests and tossing things out to people. I asked her if she had any fairy wings, and she paused and told me I could go in back and go through the box to see. So I went behind the curtain. Backstage was a television in a cabinet and big cardboard box full of odds and ends, as well as some other things I didn’t take note of. I started looking through the box, pulling things out that I might like to keep because they were Tori’s, but also trying not to take it all. She does have other fans.

While I was going through the box, Stephie came backstage and started looking with me. After a few minutes Tori also came back to see how we were, and Stephie said she really liked the shirt Tori had on. So they decided to switch shirts. Steph also wanted a jacket, but I don’t remember if she ever got it or not (it was really pretty — bell sleeves and all).

Then Steph and I went over to the television cabinet and opened the bottom doors to look at the movies. Tori was on the other side of the room, and Stephie was mentioning movies she might like to have, but I told her I was pretty sure they were Tori’s kid’s movies and not meant to be taken.

May 17th, 2002

» ‘you’d best jump far’

Setting: medievalish castle. Having watched heaps of Smallville before I went to bed, I think that pretty well explains the ancient royalty/business empire spin on the entire deal. I was a princess of sorts. I was giving instructions to maids, anyway, and there was an interesting part about trying to make an heir… Ahem. Anyway.

There was some intrigue in the beginning. The part you’ll be interested in came later, though, when I walked into one of my father’s (not my father’s, but my dream-father’s) business meetings, which was full of people I know, including my neighbor down the street, a girl I haven’t thought of in years. Stephie was also there, and while I was waiting to ask/tell my father about whatever it was I’d come there for (it was something specific, I just don’t remember now), I asked Stephie if she’d seen the episodes and my video yet. Of course she hadn’t (naughty Stephie!).

Flip bizarrely into the future and a new identity. I’m biking to the bus station so I can catch a bus to school, but first I’ve stopped off at a new friend’s house. She’s having a birthday soon. She wants to know if I have something, but I’ve forgotten it at home. I call my dad but he’s already almost at work, and I’ll be late if I go back for it. We proceed, and then suddenly we are a small band of kids (teenage “kids”) having finally been presented with the opportunity to escape, which we’re using. (Again, Smallville anyone? The episode with the psychic kid?) So we sneak through all sorts of countryside and things. Finally we come upon some cereal trucks making deliveries. Why we chose to stage our discussion about stealing boxes of cereal right next to the trucks is beyond me, but we weren’t seen or overheard. So two of the guys (one of them being Pete, from Smallville) put on little surgeon-type masks. The rest of us move ahead into this field, where we’ll make a run for it once we have our cereal. I’m wearing sandals but don’t have time to put on the running shoes they somehow found for me. In a minute they come sauntering over with a bag of Kix. They didn’t even have to steal it; they’d set it out with a “Free” sign. Yay, we have Kix.

Then I am alone. Well, not precisely. I’m in the bathroom of this family. I know the son, but he has bastard parents (especially his father). I’ve just come out of the shower so I’m, well, naked. And they’re having a squabble in the middle of the bathroom, completely oblivious. In fact, there’s a blue square in the corner of the shower that’s electrically charged. The father and son are fighting in the shower, and the father keeps pushing his son down onto the panel. The mother’s standing outside, fretting half the time and yelling at the son the other half. Finally I say to her Can’t you see he’s electrocuting your son?! and storm off. I don’t have a towel or anything, but I go back to the guest room I’m supposed to stay in (his absent sister’s room). He’ll come later and maybe we’ll escape together.

But then, suddenly, I’m back at the castle. Or, more precisely, I’m outside of the castle, and I’m me. (You see now why I haven’t told these as separate dreams.) I was somewhat far off from the castle, amid lush greenery and a beautiful sparkling stream that split a little ways down to my left. Some of the grass/bushes were very tall (person-height), and I came across a place that was sheltered on two sides, so you couldn’t see it from the castle. But I could see it, and I saw that it was some sort of barbarian with a spear attacking medieval Buffy, who was surprisingly ineffectual. Luckily, just at that moment future Buffy came along with an enormous, shiney gun, and pointed it at the barbarian. Unfortunately, the end of the gun somehow got caught in the back of his shield, so Buffy shrugged and jumped into the stream. The barbarian cackled gleefully at this, jumping in after her and completely abandoning the first Buffy for this “real” one. I had no choice but to follow, naturally. Buffy was out in front of us, and as we swam past the split the barbarian laughed and told me she was heading for the waterfall.

At this point I thought it would be wise to stop, but the barbarian was definitely going on after her. I was undecided, so near the waterfall I grabbed some rocks along the bank to think this out, having never seen the drop or what was below. I decided to go for it, of course, but the current was very strong and I didn’t want to go over the side of the waterfall; I wanted to go over the middle, because that was so much safer (*sarcasm*). I pushed out once and was brought back to the side. Being very near the drop, I fought quite hard the next time and managed to go over nearer to the middle. Finally able to look down, I immediately regretted my decision (like I often do at the top of a roller coaster, complete with sinking stomach). The drop was enormous. More than enormous. (It is useful here to add that I am afraid of heights.) It was quite pretty down below, however, and it was too late to turn back, so I closed my eyes and put my arms out in the diving position. I was going to open my eyes partway down, when the drop wasn’t quite so huge, but the “Holy shit I actually just jumped off a waterfall” reaction was for my dreaming-self as well as my dream-self, and I woke up. More’s the pity.

May 14th, 2002

» I get by

I’m into my thirtieth hour of wakefulness now, though wakefulness is perhaps the wrong term. Since I last slept I have been in five final periods; they are all something of a haze. It’s nearly over, though. I’m exhausted mentally and physically, but there is so much I want to say, so much I’ve been thinking about lately. So I guess this is your fair warning. Musings and dreams to come.

My sister graduated from the University of Minnesota, Morris campus, last Friday. I thought I would cry, but I was too busy trying to videotape her. There is a lot I could say about this day, but it’s hers and so I will make this short. Mel: I love you and I’m very proud of you. I know you are going to do brilliantly in Duluth. Just remember to have fun, and don’t work *too* hard.

So the Monday before that my parents came down. We had dinner, and Stephie, Carl, Katie, and I atrociously stopped studying and writing papers to go swimming. Tuesday I skipped most of my classes to pack and write my Women and Gender in Antiquity paper. We left late Tuesday afternoon.

Driving through Iowa I had a vast opportunity to think about things in general. I know I always say I do not like Iowa, but there is something oddly familiar about it now. It was strange to pass through and see mailbox after mailbox hanging open like silly panting dogs. Early spring in Iowa is not exactly a green affair; instead the fields turn up grey cheeks with their stubble of new wheat or brood black and freshly-tilled under a pale May sky.

Anyway, I’ve had a lot of cause to think about friendship lately. There’s a lot I could say about that too, but I don’t think this is the appropriate forum for most of it. What I will say is this: thank you. Usually when I think about Missouri and Truman and my college experience I don’t think about how I’m living in a slave state (sorry, Stephie ;) ) or what a weird town Kirksville is or the classes I’ve taken. Instead I think about the people I know, all of the brilliant, beautiful, funny, talented, simply incredible people who are by some miracle a part of my life. No matter what, I have one constant thought in relation to them: Fuck, girl, you are damn lucky. Damn lucky. I haven’t been very available this semester, especially this past month, and I’m sorry for that. At the same time I guess I feel like that hasn’t changed much. Without exception you’ve all put up with my silly moods and my freaking out about school and…well, everything. This is going on and on and I’m too tired to be any more coherent, so I’m going to end with: Thank you.

Thank you.