Motel dreams are my most vivid. I see Fiona and Mitfan, married (see post "Freaking out Fiona"). Mitfan is abusing their children and pays special attention to the oldest girl. I have to get those kids out of there. I have to get myself out of there. He’s trying to touch me. I escape with the girl only to find that he has a mafia like operation out there. There are signs all over the city that read: “Mitfan Habril will find you,” and there are dozens of scruffy men that threaten to bring me back to Mitfan. Somehow I end up in the NY subway tunnel, but I’ve lost the girl. The actual subway in NY is not what I see here in my dreams. The platform is rickety. I have to jump on the trains as they pass- they don’t stop for me. I jump in a car and Nathanial is there, head hanging. It’s comfortable to see him. I feel safe, but he is so sad he doesn’t even acknowledge me. I can’t get him to respond. And then Jack yells, “Nicole! Get up! It’s 10:30, we gata go!” I can barely shake it off as we make the 3 hour drive to Atlanta, but luckily Jack is distracting me asking me to look this up, get him a snack, play a song on his ipod, etc… We're on the go.
Traveling to me is like defying natural law. We move from where we were originally placed and in that way I think have more of an affect on the world, meeting people we aren't meant to meet, touching things we aren't intended to touch. We go in to towns like little devious leprachauns, stand out, make our presence known, and shock the locals. It’s a darn good time not being polite. Jack with his cursing and raunchiness brings it out of me. We’re now stopping for peaches in Georgia. Jack in all his gayness loves peaches and says if that’s what "peaches" really taste like, he’s switching teams.
A blog about transition and the weird way that having less responsibility after being laid off helped me grow up. Watch me sweep my way to the top.
