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Last night, I had an incredibly vivid dream. I was surfing the Internet, and came across a site that detailed the early SCA careers of my old crowd from the Shire (yes, SHIRE!) of Black Diamond. I found scans of letters I'd written (usually in bad calligraphy), photos of myself that I'd never seen, in which I'm wearing garb totally unlike any I 've ever owned, even video of me doing things I don't remember doing. (And this would have been in the Dark Ages before camcorders became popular.) I felt like I was spying on an alternate-reality EduCaitlin, in her formative years. I had no idea, in my dream, who had created the website, only that it was someone I didn't know. I wasn't alarmed, just bemused. I wanted to go check out the pages about old friends with whom I've lost touch-Eilwen, Godewin, Dennik, Chelsea, Tyngelf, Cea, lots of others--but Casey decided I really needed to get up, because his ears required scratching. Now I keep pondering what this dream says about the state of my twisted little psyche. I'll be thinking about this all week, as I heave sixteen years' worth of outdated teacher crap into the trash. (I'm keepin' the good stuff, don't worry.) Unwanted Mental Image: Taffy's Period Underwear Whirligig Dance (remember, I was traumatized in my youth by French Canadian tourists wearing Speedos!) On the Headbone: the Mexican Hat Dance, ole! |
 
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Web Dreams