Dreams and the stuff of dreaming

This morning I woke up too early after a dream about elephants painted with daisies. Then there was a carnivorous mouse who was inclined to gnaw my leg off, and then a mouse meditating with a tiny elephant in the palm of his hand, also meditating, with a lotus lei. Then the dream opened into a glen with a circle of quacking ducks gathered around a glowing wonder. I thought, excellent, I'll have more of this! and I promptly went back to sleep. Next I had horrific nightmares and I woke up screaming. Moral of story: Greed should not be left in the misdirected hands of the subconscious. Only art and love can be trusted.

The day is gloomy with cold rain and many grey houses with dirty-dark roofs. We went to the only real Italian restaurant in town, Bacco, but even candle light seemed uninspired. I could hardly eat-- I feel full to the brim with something. Plus now that we're flirting with poverty it seems stressful to go out to eat, even if it is only once in a great while. The music in the dining room sounded like something that would play in a speak easy-- it seemed to have been taken directly from the 1920's and layered over the present rather than occurring at the same time. My great grandfather ran a speak easy when he lost his job at the shoe factory. He was an Italian immigrant making the most out of a bad situation. I don't imagine it was a grand establishment though. He sold eggs as well on the side.

This town is a picture of the recession. A whole quarter of it is empty: shops, apartments, would-be-pubs and cafes, all empty. It's like a ghost town, except in a European suburb, which is an odd thing in itself. The library is in an otherwise abandoned building. There is still no inkling of a job for either of us, so I'm going to do what I should have done ages ago and volunteer somewhere. It wouldn't be a bad idea to talk to some new people either. It's not much of adventure if I spend most of my time going on solitary nature walks or reading and writing for hours alone. It's only because there isn't much to do here, so it's easy to get sucked into isolation.

Although, I did do something which is not social or productive, but unusual for me nonetheless: watching TV. Channel 2 plays Sabrina the Teenage Witch reruns and it cracks me up. I remember watching it when I was 10 or so and loving it, and looking back it's so amazingly cheesy that I love watching it just as much when I'm 22, just in a slightly different way. Plus, I think it's my small way of reconnecting with the States without dropping my "r"s and going to roadside diners. Speaking of which, I really miss roadside Americana. Although roadside Hibernia is starting to amuse me in similar ways: traffic stops for herds of sheep, or because two passing bus drivers want to know "How's Mary doing? Did you see her last Friday at the pub?," and signs like "This is the birthplace of the Wild Colonial Boy" or "Caitlin the Red Headed Seal, next right."

Travel is fun.