May 6th, 2004


in my dreams.

Tossed and turned again but had an amazing dream last night. A dream date. I met a man--older, lean, dark-haired, sort of a David Strathairn type. He was a performance artist and he invited me to the back of his shop to see his latest piece: a tiny bathroom whose floor had been stacked with rubber flowers, to about knee-level. I asked him if he used the bathroom and he said no, it was just for viewing. This seemed to contradict the meaning of "performance art," but I'm not sure I said that.

It was late at night, after midnight, but we went for a walk; we were in the city where I grew up, Virginia Beach, strolling the boardwalk through an elaborate architectural chain of markets and open-air restaurants and cafes, and houses that had been thrown open for parties, surrounded on all sides by looming, garish carnival rides--roller coasters, ferris wheels, giant balloons, the Eiffel Tower--and enormous trees looped in fairy lights.

Nothing special happened. I just remember this amazing feeling of being with someone who was attracted to me, in the flesh, even though in the flesh I am blah.

so, okay...

Why has just about *everyone* on my LJ reading list suddenly decided to hell with cut-tags? Everyone's posts are littered with spoilers small and large for Angel. I'm exercising Maximum Skim Mode, but even so, it's annoying. I hate to filter or stop reading entirely, and I'm kind of grumpy.

Bite bite bite.

oh my *god*!

How could I not have noticed this before? In the beginning of "Reptile Boy" Willow and Buffy and Xander are all slumber-partying together watching the Bollywood movie and Xander is BRAIDING WILLOW'S HAIR.

He is such a girl. I could not love him more.