Dreaming of Far-Away
I just had a long and intricate dream about going on vacation with Tiger. Most clear is the last scene, where I was reminiscing in a B&B room, my Tiger sprawled out under a bright quilt that looked handmade but, of course, not by his mother. "This has been the best vacation we've ever had together!* I feel so at home here. Our first vacation had me stressed out because, well, you know how my parents make me."
I briefly flashed back to what had been moments ago in dreamtime but was now months ago, exploring some city with my dad that kept switching identities between Sydney and something generically European. I got off the bus with him in Balmain(!) but didn't recognize anything. I had a six mile walk, alone, to my destination and was excited about that.
"And then in Ber- where was it?" I asked Tiger.
"Bergit." he said, perfectly rolling his R (which he can't do in waking life) and pronouncing it as a Swedish name for a town.
"In Bergit, I felt I didn't study the guidebooks enough, and we wasted a lot of time."**
"But here," I went on, "I feel right at home. I even found an excellent club, our first night." A flashback memory to a thinner me, dancing the night away in a black dress.***
Then we talked about options for things we could do tomorrow. I mentioned a gallery and he of course groaned, but seemed more into hitting a Children's Museum with lots of interactive exhibits. I woke up thinking about those adults-only nights that both the Boston and Providence Children's Museum do occasionally, and how fun that would be. Come to think of it, how amazing would it be to do that gigantic playground thing in St. Louis that rollick loves? I'd love to take Coyote there, too.
* How nice that dream-Tiger and I have had three vacations. In waking life, we've had an awful lot of fun but have only went out of state for sleepovers at friends' places. We were going to NYC for a weekend last fall or winter, but unexpected financial woes caused us to cancel.
** An apt description of my time in London. I'd expected to be in Sussex for nearly all my time in England, and had come up with a lot of things to do in that area. But all were difficult by bus, so Rude and I mainly lounged around our very excellent apartment and walked around the forest a bit. When we returned to London, we only managed to hit one museum in . . . four or five days. Though we did do a lot more walking. No regrets, though I do want to do it again and see more.
*** Nothing to do with the dream, but I just realized that all my time as a club regular in my early twenties, I'd hit the dancefloor hard and stay there for hours. Chasing a particular feeling that I only achieved occasionally, and I think that euphoria was a runner's high, very similar to subspace. Hmmm!
I've been thinking a lot about vacationing, but in waking life they're more strongly about places I'd like to go with Coyote. I just think we could use even a few days where we're somewhere else and making new memories to complement all these amazing older ones. I've also had another strong urge to return to DisneyWorld. I wish I could explain the hold that place has on me. I love nature so much, and I dislike crowds. You'd think my dream vacations would all be in national parks or other deep forests or maybe hiking the Long Trail, part by part until it's done. But no, I'm dying to go back to DisneyWorld. I'd like so much to rub out the memories of the horrible family trip and replace them. Yet all three of my lovers are quiet types who loathe crowds and have no particular attachment to Disney movies. Is my fervent desire to drag them to hell? How selfish can I be?
My dream Disney vacation will cost thousands of dollars. And in a week, it'll be over, and I'll have nothing but memories, photos and whatever souvenirs this theoretical fancy future me could afford. But somehow, it doesn't matter how sternly I lecture myself, how much I stress that I could probably go to Europe for a month on that much and see and learn so much. I'm longing for Disney, and I'm longing to visit my maternal grandparents' graves. Nothing will deter me. *sigh* Someday.
I briefly flashed back to what had been moments ago in dreamtime but was now months ago, exploring some city with my dad that kept switching identities between Sydney and something generically European. I got off the bus with him in Balmain(!) but didn't recognize anything. I had a six mile walk, alone, to my destination and was excited about that.
"And then in Ber- where was it?" I asked Tiger.
"Bergit." he said, perfectly rolling his R (which he can't do in waking life) and pronouncing it as a Swedish name for a town.
"In Bergit, I felt I didn't study the guidebooks enough, and we wasted a lot of time."**
"But here," I went on, "I feel right at home. I even found an excellent club, our first night." A flashback memory to a thinner me, dancing the night away in a black dress.***
Then we talked about options for things we could do tomorrow. I mentioned a gallery and he of course groaned, but seemed more into hitting a Children's Museum with lots of interactive exhibits. I woke up thinking about those adults-only nights that both the Boston and Providence Children's Museum do occasionally, and how fun that would be. Come to think of it, how amazing would it be to do that gigantic playground thing in St. Louis that rollick loves? I'd love to take Coyote there, too.
* How nice that dream-Tiger and I have had three vacations. In waking life, we've had an awful lot of fun but have only went out of state for sleepovers at friends' places. We were going to NYC for a weekend last fall or winter, but unexpected financial woes caused us to cancel.
** An apt description of my time in London. I'd expected to be in Sussex for nearly all my time in England, and had come up with a lot of things to do in that area. But all were difficult by bus, so Rude and I mainly lounged around our very excellent apartment and walked around the forest a bit. When we returned to London, we only managed to hit one museum in . . . four or five days. Though we did do a lot more walking. No regrets, though I do want to do it again and see more.
*** Nothing to do with the dream, but I just realized that all my time as a club regular in my early twenties, I'd hit the dancefloor hard and stay there for hours. Chasing a particular feeling that I only achieved occasionally, and I think that euphoria was a runner's high, very similar to subspace. Hmmm!
I've been thinking a lot about vacationing, but in waking life they're more strongly about places I'd like to go with Coyote. I just think we could use even a few days where we're somewhere else and making new memories to complement all these amazing older ones. I've also had another strong urge to return to DisneyWorld. I wish I could explain the hold that place has on me. I love nature so much, and I dislike crowds. You'd think my dream vacations would all be in national parks or other deep forests or maybe hiking the Long Trail, part by part until it's done. But no, I'm dying to go back to DisneyWorld. I'd like so much to rub out the memories of the horrible family trip and replace them. Yet all three of my lovers are quiet types who loathe crowds and have no particular attachment to Disney movies. Is my fervent desire to drag them to hell? How selfish can I be?
My dream Disney vacation will cost thousands of dollars. And in a week, it'll be over, and I'll have nothing but memories, photos and whatever souvenirs this theoretical fancy future me could afford. But somehow, it doesn't matter how sternly I lecture myself, how much I stress that I could probably go to Europe for a month on that much and see and learn so much. I'm longing for Disney, and I'm longing to visit my maternal grandparents' graves. Nothing will deter me. *sigh* Someday.