in which, i continue to dream about moving. this one, i’ve just moved to chicago, only my new job is in san francisco. the commute is a bitch. i keep missing planes. mari is there, she runs a youth hostel and lets me stay there when i miss my flight.

in my dream i have been unhappy, in that self-indulgent depression of the over-privileged sort of way, for a long period of time, and so i gave away most of my stuff – clothes, books, electronics, knickknacks, etc., convinced that freeing myself from material possession would lead to happiness. when the dream was interrupted by the alarm clock, it hadn’t become clear yet whether giving away all my stuff would make me happier; but i recall telling lots of people all about how i got rid of all my stuff and that i expected it would soon make me happy. i don’t recall whether anyone else was impressed or not.

30 second dream analysis: interesting to note that in the dream giving away my stuff didn’t make me happier – i just transferred the object of my worrying to something more self-involved and less material: my own psyche. i’m fretting about the logistics of moving, and moving/disposing of the stuff i own is a big part of those logistics. the more stuff i own, the more tied down and trapped i feel. it gets harder to pick up and move when i feel the need to flee or to answer the call of wanderlust. i have the jitters of a nervous bride, only it’s signing a lease and a contract with a strange city (rather like marriage, i suppose), that makes me apprehensive. moral of the dream: have stuff. just worry about it less.

lots of symbols of limbo in my dreams these days, not surprisingly

oh, a new sort of nerdly pain – when someone takes you OFF his “other blogs i read” list. just like that. no call, no note, just dropped right off the list!

the fates were smiling on me; i’ve tricked another unsuspecting theatre company into hiring me. aside from the fact that we’ll need food stamps to live off the salary, i’m excited about the position (production manager/resident stage manager). finally, i can stop being other people’s assistants and actually help run a company.

internet plane ticket/u-haul/apartment shopping has exhausted and frazzled me; i go in search of take-out thai to ease my troubled mind. another good thing about moving to chicago: cheap take-out…

there’s nothing comforting about helping pack one’s younger brother’s bookcase and finding volumes like The Machiavellian Guide to Womanizing on the shelf, which includes instructions for stunts like, “how to fuck your girlfiriend into a sound sleep, then sneak out of her room and into her lucious roommate Kathy’s bed.” ugg. we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was a gag gift.

my “wells fargo personal banker” can kiss my ass. she went on vacation instead of transferring money from my old account to my new one, consequently, i went on vacation and returned home to discover that my rent check had bounced. thank god for laid-back landlords. i’m not sure the phone company will be so forgiving. she will grovel on monday morning.

going to colorado for four days.

a woman i had just met in a bar the other night complimented me on the shape of my thumbs. “thanks,” i said, and, for lack of a better response: “this one’s double jointed.”

i admit it. i’m a dork. when school supply displays go up in the supermarket, i stop to browse. i examine 3-ring binders, peer into plastic pencil boxes, recall the visceral pleasure in being the first person to blunt the tip of a new crayon. i bypass the notebooks emblazoned with kittens and cartoon characters and reach for the ones with plain covers, looking for the right esthetic of pale green (not blue, not too dark) lines on white (not off-white) paper. even i, however, couldn’t figure out what i’d do with the “hip clip pencil sharpener” – a carabineer with a pencil sharpener built into one end. i mean, how often does one require hands-free pencil sharpening?

i’ve long suspected that i became a stage manger just so i could continue to buy cool, new school supplies on a regular basis.

some favorite road-trip signs:

fireworks tent in ontario, oregon:

Best Prices Anywhere!!! Fireworks & Fur

(so THAT’s why everyone’s always running over the Idaho/Oregon border to buy fireworks…)

a small creek in the desert:

Stinking Water Creek

(the only water for 50 miles in any direction. pity it was stinky)

journal entry painted on the wall of a historical museum in a small town somewhere in southern oregon:

“I must keep writing to remember who I am.” -Pioneer Woman

(apparently the plan didn’t work, since she’s now known only as Pioneer Woman)