dreaming of home

Happy Christmas, folks.

I hope everyone's holiday has been very relaxing and enjoyable.

One thing that often happens to me -- particular to my being on break from school -- is that I find myself waking in the middle of my dreams and being able to remember them more extensively than normal. The other day, for example, I dreamt that I ran into one of my poet-friends in the summertime. He had grown a full beard and was walking around town with bags, as if he were homeless (could this detail be telling in any way? hmmm). Together, the two of us walked through a Roman-style garden with architecture (whatever that means exactly), until I found myself in my high school hallways, trying to imitate other people in the playing of some frog-pebble game. I, too, carried many bags and took them with me toward a friend's house, who I hoped would let me stay with her overnight. I must have felt homeless, too. But it was morning and a surprise that my friend was even at home. She was busy with babysitting for her Japanese nephew and so told me that she couldn't let me stay at her place. I didn't mention my "homelessness." Upon leaving, I caught sight of the parents of my last roommate (the one who will be gone when I return from break). Her father was riding a bicycle, smiling at me with a wide, toothy grin. We waved, spoke no words and then I remembered that I could go home -- back to my apartment -- and feel like myself at last.

So much for one little example...

As for the story project, I'm still working on it... have made minor progress... progress nevertheless.