December 23, 1987

I have just finished watching Beauty and the Beast.  Victor, the beast, is quoting poetry. I wish I could quote poetry.

This vacation I will read as much as I can.  Our cat Max died today.  She died of poison.  We had our house tented for termites because we are moving to the other side of town.  It made me think about the gas chamber.  How would a person sit there and know they were going to die?  I would do it as bravely as possible.  When Mata Hari was executed she was very brave about it and the guards really admired her.  They were going to tie her up, she said that wouldn’t be necessary. At first, the guards didn’t even want to tie her up.  Like the Indian in The Grapes of Wrath, he is standing tall and proud with the sun behind him and no one wants to shoot him because he has magic. I am not sure I would call it magic.  Maybe majestic?  I wonder if that is the same thing?  Anyway, wouldn’t that be a great painting?

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and we still don’t have a tree up. It hasn’t felt very Christmassy.  I was so busy with finals and school, I have not had time to think of Christmas. My dad hasn’t even called yet.  Someday, he will altogether quit calling.  Usually, it doesn’t bother me but every once in a while when I think about it I get upset.  However, I won’t worry about it until another time.  I can do that.  I can push things out of my mind and pretend they simply do not exist.  Sometimes, it costs a lot.  What I mean is I forget things and I become “blonde” but it is worth it.

I remember when I used to dream about a man who came to me and he loved me. He would only come to me when I was asleep. He would always be a different guy. I mean I would change the guy, once it was M.

Once, we were in a beautiful house and I was wearing black. I had a white horse and he had a black horse.  We would ride at night in a forest lit by moonlight riding past fairies running to catch us.

Then there was the guy from the Civil War and B., he was from the 1100s, England.  Like at the Irish Festival.  Have I told you the one about P.?  I am married in a Southern Belle costume in white wouldn’t that be pretty?  My dreams are so long and complex.  It is hard to write them all down.  So I write snippets here and there.  I probably won’t remember them next week.  Just silly thoughts from a silly girl. The end of 1987 is near, how could it have gone so quickly?

I must confess, I am afraid of the future. I know the past. I wish I could be plopped down in the 1900s, I would know what to expect.  Did I tell you the dream where  I  was part of the Black Sheep squadron? My eyelids are growing heavy my love.



December 19, 1987

My Dearest,

Only a few short days until the end of 1987.  And the beginning of 1988. How interesting, I had a horrible vision on the way home from the Lakers Clipper game (The Lakers won).  I had a vision that I was in the car with a drunk driver without a seatbelt.  Of course, the vision was ridiculous, for a number of reasons. I would never drive with a drunk person, I would never drive without my seatbelt and I will never get drunk.  But on to lighter subjects.  I am dreaming that P. and I are dating and we take a ballroom dance class together, it really does sound like fun. Then I go away to Spain.  When I come back he has another girlfriend.  Anyway, I leave him for good and travel and have a lot of fun. He shows up at my doorstep three years later.

It is the third day of vacation and as you probably know, I am reading the classics, painting (nothing as of yet), working hard and just enjoying life.  I dug a three-foot ditch forty-eight feet long and two feet wide.  My quote of the day comes from Beauty and Beast

“Although we cannot be together, we will never be apart”.

I would like to read that book.  I am thinking about a pilot’s license again.  At this point in time, it would cost $3,650 to get it.
Love you,