Swimming with Dolphins

Ok, I finally got a blog. Whoo hoo, about time. So what's with the dolphins? Reminds me of some lady on Clean House who won't give up her collection of glass marine figurines. But actually, it comes from a dream I had a few nights ago.

Actually, last night, I had - yes Larry - one of my usual, horrible dreams. I dreamed we barbequed our cats. God, don't even ask why, but I suddenly realized what was going on and I ran back to rescue them - they looked so peaceful curled up on the grill, like they were near a big, cozy fire - but it was too late. Some annoying man was eating Magic's tail and said it tasted like a cheese doodle. So I took a bite and then threw up.

That would be a typical dream, the kind that leaves me shaking with dread for the day when I wake up, the kind that brings me to a sea of wakefullness frought with half-solutions to impossible problems. This morning, I woke up kicking the covers and contemplating how to bring Larry's sister Nancy back into our lives. I keep thinking I can show up to her house with my big belly and tell her all about the little neice or nephew she should be expecting in March and she'll come back to us. But I know I won't go through with it and even if I did, she probably wouldn't come running back to the family fold.

But Sunday night, I dreamed I was working for the Philadelphia Inquirer as a lowly copyeditor. In real life, they're all about to go on strike and in my dream that lead to huge layoffs. I was somehow elevated to a full reporter and asked if I would take on the now vacant Paris beat, to go live there for a year just as soon as I felt comfortable travelling with my new baby. Larry, who loves Paris, was ecstatic and so I went for a short trial visit, to find an aprartment, meet colleagues, etc.

Except when I got there - this is a dream after all - Paris wasn't just beautiful buildings and romantic rivers, it was also like Tahiti, on a tropical beach and Sarah was out swimming with the dolphins. She was riding one and the others were swmming all around her and she wanted me to come out with her. I was walking toward the water and that's the last thing I remember, except this feeling of absolute freedom, of safety and and of soft, calming, crystalline beauty. It was the smell of turkey cooking for a holiday, of Larry's arms around me, of laughing so hard my belly hurts. And I woke up and carried that sense of hope throughout the day.