The girls are playing happily together right now, I should be working on a layout that I need to get done, so I can move on to the other layouts I need to have finished before we go away but I am just so not inspired by anything at all right now. Don't even feel like writing.. but sometimes just blabbing on helps work through the inner knots and blocks.
So, camping. It was fun. Said to Paul on our way back home on Friday night, I wasn't sure why I thought I didn't like camping. I have strong memories of camping as a child with my family, and there being plenty of bugs. I am guessing that by now it is obvious that I really do not like bugs. So, yeah, the bugs worry me but I manged them OK. The girls had a great time, and I think everyone else did, too. Meaghen and Brian arrived on Saturday just as we sat down to lunch (they hadn't known what time they would arrive at, so we didn't wait for them for lunch). We had campfires, and I burned my marshmallows, and we ate pie-iron pizzas and cherry pies. My mom made the most amazing fried potatoes on the Coleman stove, and we had potato salad, broccoli salad, and tomoato salad too. My parents' new tent leaked -- in two spots, both directly above where I was sleeping. I did not take a single photo the entire time we were away, as I just didn't feel like it. I felt like they'd all turn out like crap anyway, so didn't want to bother wasting the film and then feel bad when Paul comes home from the photo lab with an expensive bill (I know you digital folks are feeling smug now...) :) I laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Only two people make me laugh like that, Paul and my mom. It was good times. I'm looking forward to going again next year. Now, I just need to remember that next year, when I will be bitching and groaning about how much I don't want to go camping.
Our trip is creeping up on us, and now the finality of it is looming and I am starting to worry and fret. I don't think I'm ready to travel halfway across the world, at the end of next week. Four flights, trains, buses, hostels. Geez. And Paul has to do so much work before we can go... write a grant proposal, finish analyzing a year's worth of data, and make a presentation for the conference, plus all of the usual small things he does daily, like running all of the errands and finding work for his lab workers to do. He's stressed out, and I wish I could help him. I don't know. I don't handle doing new things very well, I will be anxious and stressed and freaked out, and try to back out of what I have to do in any number of ways. But I know by now, that if I can gather myself together and get out and do whatever it is we have planned on doing, that I will probably end up having a great time and return home wondering why I was hesitant to go in the first place. I need to remember this in the days to come.
Last night I had a dream that I went out for the afternoon with Paul, walked downtown from my parent's house, me totally naked. And suddenly the inappropriateness of this shocked me, and we were in a used clothing store, and I bought and old pair of courdoroys, the kind like I wore when I was balancing the lines between freak emo punk and spaced-out nouveu hippy. And a shirt, just like an old one of my dad's when I was a kid (oatmeal coloured waffle-knit). Then came a jacket, just like the one I didn't buy when shopping with my mom and Paul and Summer Lily and my dad and my sister, the very same jacket I now regret not buying. So there I am, in the store, and I'm wearing these clothes I've picked up from around busy racks in the store, uber aware that I'm also not wearing any underwear. And I'm also very irritated that the jacket is only 8.76 but they are asking 18.48 for the shirt, and thinking 7.46 is a good price for the worn cords. Paul joins me at the register, and begins laying out row after row of tiny little *things* (looking back on it, I think they would make good scrapbook embellishments) but for the life of dream-me, I can't figure out why Paul is wasting our money on these ridiculous little *things* he's buying and laying out so neatly on the reflective glass counter. There are people milling around the store in my peripheral vision, and I'm hoping they didn't notice I came in naked, and I'm agry and upset, thinking that I must be totally nuts. And wondering why no one told me.
Those naked dreams...I hate them. Are you feeling especially vulnerable about something? Your trip maybe? I know dreams are supposed to mean something - I just never know what...
Nakedness in dreams leads to well worn excitement.
You know, sometimes I'm such a spoiled materialist girly girl :) but man do I LOVE camping. I love it.
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