jealous of the moon?

I just wanted to write once more before I leave for the beach. We may have internet there, but I'm certain of that, and I'm not sure I'll have time to use it even if we do. I'm all packed and ready to go to the beach, and I'm pretty darn excited. Things have continued to be good. I got my dress back today, and while it still doesn't fit the way I'd really like it to, I can wear it, so it will do. Dallas got great medical news yesterday, and he's now allowed to two exciting things: shower and DRIVE. It's hugely exciting that he's more able to function independently now. I can't even imagine how awful it would be to have to depend on people for transportation (and hair washing), especially when you're an excessively independent person by nature. So this is fantastic news and makes me quite happy. And I got to hang out with him in celebration, which was fun. I need as much Dallas time as I can get while I still live here, which is not for much longer (though how long exactly, I still don't know.) I'll probably start having withdrawal when I get home, but I'll worry about that then instead of now. ;)

On a totally different note, I haven't mentioned in here that I (obsessively, you might say) write down, interpret, and organize my dreams. I've been doing it since I took Personality Theories, one of my favorite psychology classes, freshman year. Dream interpretation has been probably the most instrmental tool for self-awareness that I have experienced, and, to top it off, it's wicked fun. With time, I've gotten pretty good at interpreting my (not necessarily others') dreams, but last night I had a very interesting one that I have not quite figured out. In terms of theme, it is clearly related to the jealousy situation that I mentioned a while back, but the people involved are different. I am having trouble determining whether (a) the people in the dream are stand-ins for the real-life people or (b) the people in the dream are actually the ones involved in my jealousy, and the real-life people I thought were involved are actually the result of some sort of mental displacement. Because, in a way, I would prefer to be jealous of the person I thought I was jealous of, rather than this alternative person, but it makes slightly more sense that I'm jealous of this dreamed person, but had a harder time admitting it, and unconsciously changed it to this other person. It seems plausible, as the related situations are, in a way, parallel. Sort of. Maybe just in my head, but that's where this jealousy (and the dream) is anyway. So yeah... my unconscious is either messing with me or telling me something very enlightening. Now to figure out which one.

Again, on a totally different note (have you noticed I suck at transition sentences?), I have become a bit ADHD with my reading habits. Usually, in the summer, when I finish a book, I immediately have another waiting for me which I immediately start reading, and so on, and the process continues all summer (or in this case, probably longer.) But I messed it all up this time. Before I read The Mother Tongue, I had been on an Augusten Burroughs kick. It was more of an addiction, really, such that I even had a dream (ah... this should have been my transition!) that I met him. I was introduced to his writing in the fall when I had to choose a memoir or autobiography to use for a term paper. I read Running with Scissors and wrote a paper about how I'd treat Augusten as a client, using the existential theory of my beloved Viktor Frankl. I pretty much fell in love with this book and felt that my life would be utterly incomplete if I did not promptly read everything else this genius of a man wrote. So when I started reading this summer (as soon as I was well enough to pay attention to read anything, basically), I read Possible Side Effects and Magical Thinking. Then, and only because I went to the terribly-organized Walden Books at home to get my next helping of Burroughs-ness, and I couldn't find Dry and didn't want to ask for help (because I hate asking for help in stores... and in life), I took a break from Augusten to spend some quality time with Mr. Bill Bryson. I intended for this hiatus to be only one book in length, but then I finished The Mother Tongue and had nothing on hand to read. My mom was with me on the back porch (my favorite reading spot) when this happened, and I said to her that I should've planned further ahead and bought another book to start reading. I was feeling urgent, as if every moment I spent not reading was wasted. It was making me anxious. My mom reminded me that I had a book upstairs that I hadn't read yet, which, strangely enough, I bought at the same time as Running with Scissors, as an alternative memoir, in case the first choice didn't work for the purposes of the paper. I was not excited about reading this book, because in my head, I had planned that Dry would be next on my reading list. I missed Augusten. But I begrudgingly went upstairs to fetch The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls (whoever that is, I thought) and began reading. I read a few pages, and it was mildly interesting, but I still missed Augusten. Then, when I got back to the apartment the other day, I realized that I bought On the Road by Jack Kerouac ages ago, for cheap, and had also yet to read it. So last night, I picked it up and started reading, hoping to be more satisfied. I like it, and I think Jack and I can be friends, but it just wasn't filling the void. I needed Augusten. So tonight, I went to Barnes and Noble and bought Dry. It was very irresponsible, as I am already reading two books, and possibly a bit pathological, suggesting that I am, in fact, addicted to Augusten Burroughs. My excuse is that the DSM-IV has no diagnosis for author-related dependence, so I'm ok. I haven't started reading yet, but I feel immensely better just knowing that at any moment, Augusten and I can be reunited (and it feels so good.) So yeah... instead of a beach book, I have three.

But really, as much I love Augusten (and if you haven't gotten this, it's a lot), I love my old neighborhood buddies even more, so I'm probably not going to want to take time away from them, even to spend reading Dry. I am increasingly excited about seeing old friends this week...and then not-as-old ones this weekend. It's going to be wonderful. I just can't wait.