What It Feels Like For A Girl
I had a dream last week that I was wearing ill fitting espadrilles a long black sheath skirt and a blouse. In it the store visual asked why I was dressed up and I responded that it was because our previous store manager was coming back to help out for the day.
What up with that? I hadn't seen "The Crying Game" lately or Daniel Vasovic on Project Runway. Could it have been triggered by my burning desire to see Meryl Streep in "The Devil Wears Prada"? Was I channeling Anna Wintour?
I woke up in a sweat- the humidity was doing nothing for my dreams which are already vivid enough to begin with. I think my mother may be right, I need to purchase a mattress pad and drink less coffee.
I like to think that dreams are a combination of observations we make in a conscious state combined with the dark recesses of our sub-conscious mind. Years ago I had a dream that I was a black girl walking down a country road. The odd component was that I had a rather serious conversation with my mother the afternoon of that dream.
I must have been in my late teens because I still had my first used car which was a 1977 Volvo 244 DL. Bear in mind that it had many issues. It seemed that this vehicle was always in and out of the auto shop and getting parts for this car was pricey. If Kidney sales on the black market were lucrative at this time I believe the sale of one of mine would have been under consideration. lol.
Anyhow, in that dream I was driving away from my parents house as myself and moments later that car and I went into a ditch. I emerged from the automobile as a black girl and the sun was blazing down on me as I began walking up the street, which was an approximation of the country road that we lived on.
A friend offered up the idea that the race and gender change was a primal reaction to me coming to terms with being gay. Who really knows, but there could be some truth to growing into your own skin which in my opinion is one of the best parts of getting older. At least for me, or maybe I harbor secret resentment over Clinique gift promotions?
What up with that? I hadn't seen "The Crying Game" lately or Daniel Vasovic on Project Runway. Could it have been triggered by my burning desire to see Meryl Streep in "The Devil Wears Prada"? Was I channeling Anna Wintour?
I woke up in a sweat- the humidity was doing nothing for my dreams which are already vivid enough to begin with. I think my mother may be right, I need to purchase a mattress pad and drink less coffee.
I like to think that dreams are a combination of observations we make in a conscious state combined with the dark recesses of our sub-conscious mind. Years ago I had a dream that I was a black girl walking down a country road. The odd component was that I had a rather serious conversation with my mother the afternoon of that dream.
I must have been in my late teens because I still had my first used car which was a 1977 Volvo 244 DL. Bear in mind that it had many issues. It seemed that this vehicle was always in and out of the auto shop and getting parts for this car was pricey. If Kidney sales on the black market were lucrative at this time I believe the sale of one of mine would have been under consideration. lol.
Anyhow, in that dream I was driving away from my parents house as myself and moments later that car and I went into a ditch. I emerged from the automobile as a black girl and the sun was blazing down on me as I began walking up the street, which was an approximation of the country road that we lived on.
A friend offered up the idea that the race and gender change was a primal reaction to me coming to terms with being gay. Who really knows, but there could be some truth to growing into your own skin which in my opinion is one of the best parts of getting older. At least for me, or maybe I harbor secret resentment over Clinique gift promotions?
posted by Chris at 7:26 AM
1 Comments:
Hmmm, sounds a little past life like to me.
Anyhow, enjoy your holiday. Been reading for awhile, followed Toddy over here.
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