ACCOZZAGLIA

i overslept last night.

not in the “i missed an appointment” sense, but more in the “i had plenty of sleep already, but i didn’t want to get up” way. because of this, i had too many dreams, most which cut to the core in a raw way.

my ex-mother had her part in one, screaming at me why i drink all the juices around the house but nothing else (my answer: “because i’m on a diuretic, and i need my nutrients, so get off my arse”) and why i had a debt for a student loan (which is strange, because in 1994, i took out a loan on one community college semester, part-time load, and i eventually got that paid off in 1997, and there’s been nothing ever since).

a girl whom i’d never seen before in my awakened state, which evidently was a 4AD fan in this dream, lived two houses down from my childhood house. she was someone’s i’d met online, and only later had i found out that she lived two doors down from the beast (aka, the ex-mother). i went over there to say hi and to see what that old house, which i’d seen in two prior incarnations, looked like now.

in one dream, sparkle_vixen kissed me on the back while on her way out to work, which freaked me out. this followed some other strange details regarding this very strange apartment complex out here in the middle of nowhere. i won’t get into those details here.

in another dream, i was in my late grandmother’s old house, and well, that was just a strange dream entirely.

in the most telling dream, i was working for some retailer — like a throwback to my past — when some customer suddenly began treating me like an inhuman freak of nature. it was a sudden, abrupt observation that i’ve seen many times in my life before, when someone makes the connection that i’m not this delicate, non-queer girl which they originally framed me out to be. the expression change is always instantaneous and abrupt and alarming. the rest of that dream involved being treated as a moving violation to humanity for being not quite right.

in the end, these unpleasant or disturbing dreams outweighed the good. for some reason, though, dealing with these bad dreams almost seemed preferable to dealing with the same, soul-draining humdrum of Everett, alone, while awake, or with a stoned, brooding girlfriend who now just holes up in her bedroom the minute i reply that i’m not interested in doing anything with her for the evening (which usually constitutes watching telly, which doesn’t require communication, whee — did i mention how much i hate telly and why i didn’t have one back in the Cities?).

unfortunately, i’m still not in a position where i can safely tell her that i’m ending our relationship, and that i’m leaving her. presently, all the cards are in her hand, and secretly, i think she knows this. this is why i have to retain utmost discretion, secrecy and silence about it until i know how and when i can make my move. i hope our mutual friends can understand my fears and concerns here.

* * *

just before i went to bed last night, i was soothing one friend while alarming the other. this wasn’t intentional. well, at least the alarming part wasn’t.

in the latter case, i was relaying to her the memories of when i was younger and when i had Bad Things happen to me. only since talking to her over the last few days have i actually been able to piece together these shards of my memory for either myself or for anyone else — and making sense out of it all — in pertinence to my being thirteen and hospitalised for several weeks back then.

i’m leaving her name out here, but she knows who she is. i didn’t mean to scare her, despite the scary content. if anything, it’s helping me understand better what happened to me, which in turn is allowing me a chance to finally heal from it. and to start loving the autumn for the first time in seventeen years.

in the case of my other friend, i hope that my advice to unwinding helped to some degree. oddly, after i let her go for the evening, i did much the same, taking a basic bath, listening to downbeat jazz on the public radio station (including the surprisingly rich voice of an Eva Cassidy, who died recently(?) at age 33 of cancer — my god) and going straight to bed afterwards at the ungodly early hour of 10:45p.

and today, i continue to wait to hear back on the still-active lead for the art director opening at Seattle magazine. as soon as i hear whether i’m still wanted for interview, then i’m going to hike the long haul to Everett public library (which is six miles, i think) to examine the backissues in detail, giving me a better feel for their style, legacy, approach and history.

then there’s the planning for emergency return to the Cities in late October or early November, which is actually still the main plan while this Seattle magazine thing percolates in the background. i still don’t know where i’ll end up temporarily when i return back there to gain a foothold on things. it’s unnerving, and come my return, the colder weather will most certainly be back in spades.

i’m also thinking of just staying off AIM for awhile, which could either be construed as tuning out or being antisocial. i’m not sure which. it’s sad to realise that a bloody chat utility has been my sole lifeline to conversational humanity for the last ten months.

done prattling now.