Odd Bits

Teen Skunk snarfing Ghost Cat's brekkie

Dreams, books, wildlife and reasons – today is a simple, desultory mish mash.

Dream #1: I was 35 and applying to MFA programs. One at BU, the other at NYU. I got into both. Huzzah!

In real life, I was 22 when I applied to grad schools – only two, just like in DreamWorld – BU and MassArt, both here in Boston. I'd recently come off the carnival road and moved here. Conceivably, an MFA would help me score a much MUCH better, more interesting job – maybe even a teaching gig. BUT I was wholly uninterested in leaving Boston. I just got here! The other bit, did I really want a college teaching gig if it was in Bucksnort, Arkansas or some other tiny burg in the middle of nowhere? Tenured teaching gigs in cool towns/cities weren't/aren't exactly easy to come by.

Conflicted. I was. No worries though, I didn't get into either school. Shortly thereafter I was diagnosed with Nf2 and had my first go 'round with the brill surgeons at MGH. My priorities shifted. Dramatically.

In any case, in my Nf2-free dream I had awesome choices. Stay in Boston and go to BU or head south to NYC? I was on a Greek idyll type island, looking down onto crystal cerulean water – trying to decide. Yes, this was a luxurious dream. I didn't even need to wonder where I'd get the tuition, book and housing cabbage. Somehow everything was all set AND I could ponder it all on an expensive, exotic vaca too.

Given the current daily insanity, I think we all need more Coco pics. Don’t you?

Wow, I don't get magical posh dreams like this very often.

Dream #2: The day was grey, rain threatened. I was trying to get to Heathrow – had been for days, or so it seemed. I was at a bus stop waiting, waiting, waiting. Finally, one came but it went out of service right after I’d boarded and found a good seat. *sigh* More buses came, more boarding and booting went on. It was starting to feel a little Groundhog Day-ish. Given my relatively recent Bizarro World experience at Heathrow, I can't fathom why, why, WHY I'd be trying so damn hard to get there.
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Off the top of my head, my five fave books in no particular order are:
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven – Sherman Alexie
Going After Cacciato – Tim O'Brien
Black Tickets – Jayne Anne Phillips
Snow Crash – Neal Stephenson
The Good Fairies of New York – Martin Millar
OK, six:
Motherless Brooklyn – Jonathan Lethem

Tomorrow morning’s list may well be completely different.
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Martin Millar, in his book Thraxas and the Warrior Monks, provides a perfect illustration of why I’m a vegetarian:

...before I can reply a large pig walks by on two legs. It greets us politely. Gurd grips his axe and the pig notices this with displeasure.

“Oh, going to chop me up, eh? That’s a human for you, chop up a pig without giving it a second thought. How would you like it if you were just going about your daily business and someone came along and chopped you up?”

“The human race has been given dominion over the beasts of the field,” says Saint Quantinius from his horse.

“Not by me,” replies the pig and they start arguing.

 Happy Friday. What are your top five books? Tell me.