Three Days

It's been awhile.

It's also 11 a.m. on a Tuesday*, I just woke up 30 minutes ago, my face that used to be a face now a runaway train of overactive sebaceous glands. I'm also missing the rain. It's too quiet here, the rumble of passing tricycles is the only sign of life outside this house.

Since last week, in dream and in waking life, it's been a rather tumultuous ride. I think I need a spiritual seltzer. I'm hoping the driver of this vehicle slows down to take a breather, maybe pull up the hand brake to at least tell me where we're going.

The details are sketchy, but here they are -

Last Thursday, I fulfilled my life-long dream of being a plus-size ramp model. Except, there was no ramp. It was just a small stage, and to get there the "models" (me included) had to cross over massive cables that were snaked around lamps and boxes which served as make-shift steps. But the experience was fun, to say the least. I met a lot of interesting people, and hit it off with one male model/host whom all of my friends assured me was gay. Oh, what else is new? Most importantly, I also learned that I should always check my boobs. ALWAYS. This is because the outfit I wore made my breasts look like they'd sunk down to my stomach. Yes, I looked like a camel, a glamorous camel all done up in fabulous gold jewelry and high-heeled shoes, but a fat camel nonetheless.

Then on Friday, my past came back to haunt me, whamming me with a 2x4, reminding me of all the mistakes I'd made this year, in a smoky, noisy bar where I proceeded to get shit-faced with G. and R.. Not an entirely pleasant night, because for the third time in my life I drove home very, very drunk. The first two times, I almost killed myself along with three friends, narrowly missing other cars and hapless pedestrians who were out wandering those streets in the twilight hours. Yet somehow, that night, through my vodka-induced haze, I was still able to get us all home safely. We were lucky. God, please don't let me do that again.

Over the weekend, I asked the other G., tarot-reader and friend extraordinaire, to read my fortune. I'd always believed that whatever mood you're in affects the kind of reading you're going to have, and judging by my mood that day (or that week), I was expecting that it'd be all gloom and doom. But no - G's reading was very positive, optimistic, hopeful.

I'm hoping all that you said, dear one, will come true.

And last night, I dreamt I was on a ship, that wasn't a ship, it was more like a floating house, or Noah's ark without the animals. There were other people there, families and children running about, playing with balls which they'd formed themselves out of thin air, or out of the stray metal screws that they'd pulled out of the house-ship. I don't remember everything, just that towards the end of the dream an old man was holding my hand and telling me, you are light, you are light, simply glow and be and be and be.

*My car is coded, which means I can't use it until 7 p.m. on Tuesdays.