Thursday, November 13, 2008


As class was winding down tonight, my instructor told us that the store would be hosting a Yule Ball this year. The ball will be a fancy affair...very dressy, and everyone must wear a mask. It's a masquerade ball! The kind depicted in movies. I found myself getting excited.

And then it hit me that I wanted a date for this event.

A date. A live actual date. Yikes. I haven't had a date in, oh....well, too long. (Or is it not long enough? I can never keep it straight.)

I immediately knew who I wanted as my date, too. The only problem? I've only seen this guy twice; once he waited on me when I was buying something at the booth he was manning at PPD. The other time in passing at the psychic fair.

In other words, I don't know him.

Okay, so this guy is obviously not a viable candidate, as I didn't write down his license plate number or get his name so I can stalk him like I do most guys. (Kidding. Kidding!)

But seriously, back to the ball. I must go, and I must have a date. And come on...seriously, who wouldn't want to go? I mean, there are masks!

Can she do it? Can she have a date before Yule? Only my hairdresser in the sky knows for sure.

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Trading Spaces

When I was living in my own home in California, I used to dream of places. And not just the place, but me living in the place. Often, I dreamt of the same place. One place seemed to be in Portland, Oregon. It was a raised home - by that, I mean the home was on top of the garage. The home front had huge windows, and the home also had a tree which grew inside the house.

The dreams were fairly boring...nothing really ever happened in the dreams, or at least nothing that I remembered come morning. The only part of the dream that stood out was the place itself...the details of the home, how I felt in the home, and an overwhelming desire to go back to sleep so I could go back to the home.

Of all the places I dreamt of, I would say that the home in Oregon was one of my favorites. When I moved to Reno, though, the dreams stopped. For a while.

When it became clear that Todd and I were not going to be married, I started dreaming of places again. I often dreamt about the place in Oregon, but then sometimes I would dream of other places. Each place felt nice...the decor was usually welcoming, the homes bright and spacious.

It wasn't until I moved into my new place that the dreams stopped...well, that is, until a couple of months ago.

Oddly, the place I dream about now is really kind of dilapidated. It has some nice rooms, but it has an odd-shaped basement, and one must go down some crooked stairs and walk through an angular hallway to get to it. The basement is both enchanting and off-putting. The enchantment comes from the fact that it seems to be a fairly secret room, and could be made into anything I wanted it to become. The off-putting part comes from the fact that it is difficult to get to, and in quite a state of disrepair.

I do not understand why I'm having these dreams again. I know that I started having the dreams in California about the time I was contemplating leaving. And then the dreams started up again when it became clear that it was time to move out of Todd's home. Now, though, I'm not sure why I'm having them.

Even if I wanted to move (and honestly, I do think about it sometimes), I could not afford to do so now. I have a home, and as we all know, homes are not selling these days. I feel stuck in Reno...and maybe that's why I'm having the dreams. I'm stuck, and the only way I can get away is to dream myself away.

If that's the case, though, why in the world am I dreaming of a dilapidated home? I would much rather dream of a two-story home in Oregon, with walls of windows and a tree that grows inside the house. I don't care if it rains...I'd take rain over a broken-down home any day.