Crazyness at the Library

Peace. It's been a bit of a mad rush. Somewhere close on the heels of twelve I started getting irritated with the fact that people just kept coming up to check out. I needed a break to restore my good humor.

I dreamt that I was married last night. I have a friend that dreams about having girlfriends, for me it's always lovers or husbands... Another example of my extremes I suppose. No in between. I was moving around a table that was covered in lumps of cream colored dough and I had this urge to clean it up. There was a plastic bag and I started gathering the clumps in it but the more I added the more the bag disappeared, like it was having a reaction with the presence of the dough. At that point I was kind of like fuck it and I put the bag back down. A group of people showed up at the head of the table and I was searching amongst them to see who my husband was. I didn't know his face, but I figured him out. His appearance surprised me. He had long curly black hair pulled back in a ponytail and very dark skin, he was Brazilian, although I had Spanish associations with him in the dream (Spain spanish I mean). He had an attractive face, but those aspects, the hair and the very dark skin are usually not attractive to me. But I loved him, and he was very sensual to me. One of those dreams with really nice kissing.

Some times it seems like people are fucking with me, their friendly sincerity is surreal. I had to stop myself from laughing. Very often people return cd and dvd cases missing the disc and we have to inform them. I just had a very politely jovial father in with just such a situation and when I informed him of the case returned sans disc he expostulated "It IS" very dramatically but still jovially and I really thought he was fucking with me. But then he proceeded to apologize and state that he was terribly embarrassed. Still smiling. The other interesting occurrence today was a slightly older than middle aged lady at the return counter with a book on cd. She said she had something to report. She said she was listening to the first disc and was mortified by it's vulgarity at which point she immediately removed it from her player and broke it in two... Actually, I remember how she started she showed me this disc broken in half and announced that she did it. It struck me that it would be easy to deal with charging her for it since she confessed in a sense. But I noticed the disc had none of our stuff on it, it didn't belong in the set. I think she wanted me to know how mortified she was by it.

"I can give you the ride of your life". I don't believe it. In Baltimore on Sunday me, John and Stevanne saw a very trashy hipster in a shirt announcing something like "I'm a man whore: cheap sex here".

I'm in love with someone who's as pretty as a flower, her life gives me power so I'm buyin' her a ring... I don't know if it's life or love? I like either. The songs been in my head all day. I've always liked it, but it's really infected me recently. It's a beautiful story of transformation and coming to life. Is he telling all this to his mom? I always thought so, but now I wonder. "Oh, mom, I never thought that I could love no one, but today I'm on my way, Oh, today I'm on my way..." I've discovered feelings in myself recently I've never had before. It's exciting, in the sense that my life feels more full, but I'm also afraid because I feel more vulnerable. To open myself up to experience feelings of love means I can be hurt...

We just had a fire drill, right in time to get rained on. Which is fine outside where it's warm, but it sucks in here where it's over air conditioned. Someone got left behind, a little old lady with a walker. That's not a good sign. Laurel asked if that means we failed, I think it very much does. The alarm is a male voice that comes on and announces that there has been an incident in the library and requests immediate evacuation. Fawna told me she thought that sounded like someone had been shooting a gun in the building. Yeah,incident is not the best word to use. Something smells like mothballs, the scary part is I have the sensation the odor is following me around which kind of incriminates me, but I don't know why I'd smell like that? All the things I'm wearing are new, for a change... Where the hell is that smell coming from? Is it actually the library? In the vents? Every movement awakens the smell, like it's on the air.

Some thoughts. In some ways I am a very private person, but in others I'm perhaps even unnaturally un-private. (Impersonal? What would be the right word?) For instance physically I'm very private, prudishly so in some ways. But I like to share some of my most personal thoughts, feelings, art with most anybody. That kind of sharing I almost thrive on. I used to think something was terribly wrong with me, like I lacked some natural prudence... or discretion. Maybe it's because I know I'm sharing myself and that's what I enjoy, being known, seen... I know it's pride too, atleast with my art, I'm showing off a bit when I share, because I'm proud of my cultivated talent and what my hands can do. Not that I'm that amazing, I see my flaws very clearly. But I do make beautiful things.

Can't do it anymore, drifting...