My rag-tag gypsy bag... it has something inside of it, but I don't remember what it is, exactly. And it doesn't matter in the least. What does matter is that it is big and bright and cheerful, has long red fringe and is ready for adventure~ kinda like me. hum. never thought of it like that before, self-portrait as a ragbag...baglady...raghag.. all of which are thoroughly acceptable.
Dreams last night of record players and weddings (don't get excited. it was a dream, not reality. doubly proven by the presence of Lila from the Angel series- not someone I should want at my wedding, unless I wanted a very serious prenup agreement. If you don't know the series, Lila is one of the devil's lawyers...) and I dreamt about Afghan hounds. Barbie had adopted one, it was a puppy, tiny with all this hair- the hair was all reddish gray, like my hair. I adopted one that looked like Ursula, if you can imagine a long-haired Ursula....dream ended with me filling out an application for something, and I was wishing I had my grades from this semester to add to it...
Dreams are confusing sometimes, and I know it isn't nearly as interesting to read about other peoples than to have them yourself. But I love my dreams, dream every night, usually remember them and talk about them even if I do bore people to death. (Hey, I'm a teacher- its my job to be professionally boring) Like the gypsy bag though, they are bits and pieces of this and that strung together, making up a whole with who-knows-what inside. Mystery. Magic. Romance. or just some shiny-pretty things that found there way here...
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