"Daydreaming" Radiohead

I have noticed that as of late, every time I travel, something bad happens at home.

When in Israel-- Guiena Pig #1 died, When in Sedona-- My Uncle died, When in San Antonio, S.O. went to the E.R., and now in Madison-- Guiena Pig #2 died. Not sure if this is a bad omen or just dumb luck.

When I'm on the road, I usually dream. I rarely dream when at home. In San An, the dreams were bad-- horrific, actually. The wakeyouupsweatingcantgobacktosleep kind of dreams.

This trip the dreams have been filled with effervescent bubbles so bright in color and hue--

I am talking to someone in my mind. There is no sound. No visual. Like underwater.

Only the words, like on a screen or a piece of paper typed out.

The words talking to me share secrets. They seem real, as if there is an actual person attached to them.

The words I hear in my head make me feel something. I try to construct the vision of the person-- what they may sound like, what they look like, but it doesn't materialize.

I question if this is Limerence? That makes me seem crazy.

I decide that it must be SIRI or some AI Bot that can say all of the things that you would think an actual person would say, but it is only an illusion-- and remind myself you are dreaming This is a lucid dream.

After a time, the words stop coming to my memory. The effervescence of the bubbles diminish. It grows darker. I can't hear or see them. I wonder if this is what madness or dementia must feel like-- losing the person slowly, bit by bit, piece by piece, until there is nothing left of them. It feels like drowning would be--but worse.

At the end of the dream, there is nothing but a large bubble that moves close to my face. I reach out with my index finger and pop the bubble, its wettness hitting my eyes and face.

Then I wake up.

"Mercy Street" Peter Gabriel

Nowhere in the corridors Of pale green and gray Nowhere in the suburbs In the cold light of day There in the midst of it So alive and alone Words support like bone Dreaming of Mercy Street

Wear you're inside out Dreaming of mercy In your daddy's arms again Dreaming of Mercy Street I swear they moved that sign Dreaming of mercy In your daddy's arms

I know I have posted this song before, but I felt it so strongly today while walking the rainy streets of Madison. I guess I should have selected "Red Rain" but "Mercy Street" captures my mood today. SO was such an impactful album my freshman year in college. It still hits me on a level that few records do now.

Looking for Mercy.

We worked quickly today and were out by 12:30--giving grace to explore the city a bit further, my mind recording everything for next time. Hoping to see you, a stranger, around the next corner.

Time is so odd on these trips. I close the blinds at 7pm and it could be midnight. Then I wake at 4am and do the job.

Maybe one of these jobs will land me an opportunity to advance to something more than breaking down boxes and stacking pointless evals. I guess the presenter's kids (who are still in college) know more about efficient management than a 33 year teacher-- but whatever.

I think about how your future and your life really depends on the leverage of your parents. If they didn't make it, or struggled, you are at a disadvantage. Even if they were climbing the corporate ladder or were doing all of the things, you don't have that Golden Ticket. The Pedigree.

My parents were first generation college (their parents had community college or less)-- and I guess it showed. We had to work hard for everything.

My girl will be better than I was, and hers will be even more at an advantage-- but she (just like I) learned, it takes hard work. Once people no longer know what it's like to work for success, they fall into a different category--one I will never understand.

Should I tell you about the 6th grade overnight birthday party to Laura Spitsberg's where I brought a Jigsaw puzzle for a gift (because that was what I would have liked as a gift) and she got designer make-up, perfume and Gloria Vanderbilt jeans from other girls... Humiliating. Mom didn't know better. I wore Garanimals clothing and played with strawberry shortcake dolls and plastic dinosaurs. I wasn't into makeup or boys or designer clothes. I was a child. Not a cotillion bred darling or Jewish princess. She lived in the coveted Eden Glen neighborhood-- what was the richest part of Carmel at the time before Crooked Stick was developed. She invited every girl from our class to the party. And you remember what I thought of that 6th grade homeroom..

Well, I was never added to that friend group. I was laughed at for the rest of my time in Carmel, driving a 1974 Ford hatchback Pinto with balled tires and no radio. Think Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink but a lot less glam.

Ugh...sorry Rabbit Hole.

Laura, I sure hope you are happy with your well-to-do life wherever you are now. I guess you didn't have to "marry up."

"Solar Power" lorde

This could be my theme song. I'm such a summer girl. I'm kinda like a prettier Jesus Blink three times when you feel it kickin in

I wanted to get a little writing in before I have to set up and, well, it's my favorite day of the year: summer solstice! I found this about my Sun Sign today. It is exactly what I have been saying to myself for the past several weeks!

Starting today I will Honor my Journey, Set a Powerful Intention, Release, Realign and Rise.

It's all about Expansion--which is what Sagittarius is all about. An adventure calls from a direction you had completely stopped watching. A journey begins that leads somewhere the soul has been searching for. Say yes to everything that excites you right now.

Thank you Universe! How did you know I needed to hear this today?

Turn on a new kind of bright, IT'S SOLAR. That's me, baby.