Author Archives: Christene

A Very Strange Dream

I had the strangest dream last night. I remember most of it vividly, and want to transcribe it before it disappears. Already I am forgetting bits and pieces.

I lived in a large city, and went to the Chevy dealership to sell my car because I no longer had any use for it (why Chevy? Why not BMW?) From there I walked to work. It was dusk. Every time I went outside it was alway dusk, regardless of what time of day it was supposed to be. At one point I went to the local apothecary, I walked in, she said “Good morning” and handed me a yellow piece of notebook paper. I left and it was dusk.

Every time I was walking I was either walking from home to work, or from work to Tanya’s birthday dinner. Apparently Tanya had a birthday dinner every night. Each night it was at a different venue on the same hill.

I worked in a large glass building, and from the outside, since it was dusk, you could see everything inside brightly lit. It looked like a restaurant. The lobby looked like a bar. When you went inside it was neither. And from inside, looking out the giant windows it was always morning, around 10 a.m.

It took me going to work a few times before I realized my profession. I was a courtesan. But I wasn’t selling sex, I was selling information. I would go into a large room with red carpeting and no furniture, get dressed in torn jeans and a white halter top, then go back outside onto the main floor. I would sit at a little round coffee table and wait. People would come and ask me things, I would answer their questions and they would pay and leave. Sometimes they would want to play chess with me, or have me watch them read.

Shifts were short, and at the end of each one I was exhausted in a way I can’t even describe. As if I had just had something taken out of me. Even though I was selling information it was somehow also physical. It was drawn out of me almost like taking string from a spool inside of me. Bits were taken and torn out each time I had a client. The spool would regenerate, but it took a lot of energy.

I sat there by myself that evening for what seemed like an eternity. Then a man came and asked me to tell him about photosynthesis. I explained to him the entire process and he was so elated he tipped me double. He gave me so much money I didn’t have to work the rest of the night.

I left, asked my manager when she needed me back the next day, and then walked up the hill for Tanya’s birthday dinner.

The next day I walked to work, and I had a client waiting already. She asked me things I didn’t know anything about. I went to the place that looked like a bar, but wasn’t, except now it was. I ordered drinks and got my client drunk so she would shut up. Then I took her with me to Tanya’s birthday dinner.

This time it was at a hotel. We had dinner and then went wandering around. Tanya was busy so I didn’t get a chance to see her. I was still with my client from earlier and started showing her around (apparently I had been to this place before). (There is a gap here but I think I may have slept with her). The next thing I remember I was putting on her clothes. I decided I wanted to keep her jeans. She put on my jeans, shrugged and smiled, and walked out the door.

I went off to explore the place (hotel?) further. At this point it was a series of burgundy velvet staircases and nothing more (there may or may not have been closed doors in between the staircases, but I am not sure). I found a door, and it was Lowell’s room. He was in there with his boyfriend watching a talk show. I said hello and sorry for interrupting. He said it was quite alright, they were just getting ready to kill themselves. They were holding this strange device that I had never seen before. I panicked and ran out of the room into a large hall where people were standing around having cocktails. I told them what was about to happen and they stared at me like I was crazy and suicide was the most normal thing on the planet. I was shaking and ran back for Lowell’s room. I walked in and they were both dead laying on the bed. Lowell was wearing one of his typical argyle sweater vests. I went over to the mirrored closet that was left half open and found a pair of pumps in my size. I put them on and left.

It was dusk and I was walking to work. Then I woke up.

Chasing the Carrot

I am taking the GRE in less than two weeks, and I feel like a rabbit on a treadmill chasing a carrot. No matter how many practice tests I take, I can’t seem to get a perfect score. Close, but no carrot. Even when I get a 100 percent on one section I will miss a couple in the following section. I blame the adaptive nature of the test since it became computerized. Oh, so you got 100 percent? Here, let’s give you a harder section next time. Damn.

Honestly I don’t even know what my strong points are anymore. I am getting the same scores for math and English. The only constant seems to be that I am terrible with probability, and I seem to be weak at those fill in the blank questions where you are supposed to pick two answers. I almost always get one of the two right. Except you get no partial credit, so having half an idea isn’t good enough.
I am probably going to take at least half a dozen more practice tests between now and test day, but somehow I don’t think I am going to improve to perfection by then. Actually I am very sure of it. In fact I am pretty sure that even if I took a full dozen practice tests by then it still won’t do that much good.
Apparently I am doing a lot better than a lot of other people so at this point I guess I will just keep doing what I am doing. And maybe stop waking up at three in the morning to do practice tests. Like clock work. Every night. The clock strikes three and I wake up, half awake, fully alert, going for my laptop.
They say it is best to take practice tests under the same conditions and in the similar state of mind as when you will be taking the actual exam. Sure, I will just quit my job and stay home to take practice tests at noon every day during a self induced panic attack. Sounds about right.
On the bright side, I can’t get any worse. Right??

Excited

There are a lot of things to be excited about this week. I am rereading a great book, and since I will be teaching it, I am really reading it, getting into it, analyzing like never before, researching each and every reference, cross referencing everything, and drawing all sots of conclusions.

Then, later this week I will be having Ducky’s birthday party. It will be a small affair, but fun nonetheless. In fact, the only guests outside of family are Tanya and her husband. Like I said, small. Ducky is too young to care, and this way we get to celebrate his life, and I get to make special cupcakes. Everyone wins.

My friend just got back from Wyoming and I get to see her this Saturday night. I found a very charming place for us to go, and I now have a reason to get all dressed up. Everyone wins.

I am meeting with several people this week to finalize my syllabuses and go over all the small things. I am going to build the perfect course for my students! I am excited.

I am also going apartment hunting again this Friday. My goal is to have something by the end of summer. And no, I am not being indecisive. At least that is one thing I have never been. I know what I want.

Today I went furniture shopping. I know, I know, it is like putting the cart before the horse. But I know nothing of carts or horses, so really what did y’all expect? I found a little brown/black leather couch set that I like. Nothing too big, so it fits anywhere, but very comfortable, and matching everything I will probably get from my current house (don’t even get me started on this, which is basically a blog post onto itself). I am also going to need half a dozen book shelves, and maybe a bed. Most likely a bed. And some lamps. I should make a list.

Actually, what I should probably do is go to sleep. I haven’t slept in days. I am not feeling tired, but I know it will catch up with me. Probably tomorrow when I am trying to get stuff done.

I promise my next post will be more coherent. Maybe focusing on only one topic.