prophetics
Went out to live music accompanied by chocolate mousse cake and merlot with A last night since the costume party (heroes and villains!) was too far away and we didn't have the right kind of wheels. I wasn't too bothered about not going to the fete because the cliff-hanging logistics meant I didn't have an outfit, though I could have put together from my existing wardrobe the following identities:
a) Greek hunter complete with green woolen cape (thanks to Mom for teaching me to sew last year);
b) Foxxy Cleopatra (with a too-blonde fro and slightly more modest disco shirt);
c) Diana Rigg's character, Emma Peel, in a zip-up red and white striped racing jacket with vermilion, kung-fu-amenable trumpet trousers and a modish pink hairband.
The Avenger outfit would have been the most fun. I once told a fellow filing clerk last year who complimented me on some blue velvet flares between the werewolves and classic horror sections that I only wear pants that allow me to do high kicks. *--Hi-yah!--* Hmm, kind of miss those exhilarating cries in tae kwon do. Wushu so far is pretty mute except when everyone's groaning during the push-ups :D Love the cartwheels, though--what other post-middle-school gym class occasion encourages you to do them all the way across the wooden floors?
* * *
This morning's dream: I was living by the sea. When the tide receded, the sand beneath some giant slabs of slate was firm enough to stand on. It was also quite low so the rocks were cantilevered and I could explore their newly revealed cavities. I had a feeling I knew what I was to find as my hands pried away huge chunks of packed sand and stones. A dictionary, miraculously dry and unspoilt, was pulled out, then a soft-bound volume of poetry ("The Aeneid"). One by one, books I'd been missing for years were taken out, even some photographic albums, all crisp and perfectly preserved. There was no discoloration or retention of salty damp. It seemed that I had buried my treasures under those rocks years ago and could only now reclaim them while the tide was elsewhere. There were boxes of the stuff and I was anxious about how much I'd apparently stowed away. My friend W. helped me loosen them from the shadows under the rocks. I next found myself in my apartment by the sea where with a wave of W's hand, a fully stocked, polished dark wood bookcase flew into place on the wall between the kitchen and sitting room. Of course, I was delighted and looked over at the other shelf of books I'd put up myself on the facing wall.
This means I should finish putting my house in order, because according to the dicta of Great Learning, only when one has made one's intentions pure can one's heart be righted, and only after that can one govern one's own house and after that, one's state.
Memoirs of Maui and the story about a pomegranate will have to wait.
a) Greek hunter complete with green woolen cape (thanks to Mom for teaching me to sew last year);
b) Foxxy Cleopatra (with a too-blonde fro and slightly more modest disco shirt);
c) Diana Rigg's character, Emma Peel, in a zip-up red and white striped racing jacket with vermilion, kung-fu-amenable trumpet trousers and a modish pink hairband.
The Avenger outfit would have been the most fun. I once told a fellow filing clerk last year who complimented me on some blue velvet flares between the werewolves and classic horror sections that I only wear pants that allow me to do high kicks. *--Hi-yah!--* Hmm, kind of miss those exhilarating cries in tae kwon do. Wushu so far is pretty mute except when everyone's groaning during the push-ups :D Love the cartwheels, though--what other post-middle-school gym class occasion encourages you to do them all the way across the wooden floors?
* * *
This morning's dream: I was living by the sea. When the tide receded, the sand beneath some giant slabs of slate was firm enough to stand on. It was also quite low so the rocks were cantilevered and I could explore their newly revealed cavities. I had a feeling I knew what I was to find as my hands pried away huge chunks of packed sand and stones. A dictionary, miraculously dry and unspoilt, was pulled out, then a soft-bound volume of poetry ("The Aeneid"). One by one, books I'd been missing for years were taken out, even some photographic albums, all crisp and perfectly preserved. There was no discoloration or retention of salty damp. It seemed that I had buried my treasures under those rocks years ago and could only now reclaim them while the tide was elsewhere. There were boxes of the stuff and I was anxious about how much I'd apparently stowed away. My friend W. helped me loosen them from the shadows under the rocks. I next found myself in my apartment by the sea where with a wave of W's hand, a fully stocked, polished dark wood bookcase flew into place on the wall between the kitchen and sitting room. Of course, I was delighted and looked over at the other shelf of books I'd put up myself on the facing wall.
This means I should finish putting my house in order, because according to the dicta of Great Learning, only when one has made one's intentions pure can one's heart be righted, and only after that can one govern one's own house and after that, one's state.
Memoirs of Maui and the story about a pomegranate will have to wait.


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