March 10th, 2002

Chalkboard

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Last Night's Spooky Southern Gothic Weird Racist Dreams

OMG the dreams I had. They're pretty interesting, well to me at least, so if you want to wade through them I'll post a bit here and use the Live Journal cut tag to spare everyone the big wad of text. There is a lot of gothic Southern ghostliness and racism going on.

I am in a new apartment with Beau and a housekeeper and all of our cats. We are waiting for our house to be remodeled. It's very New Orleans Southern in style and I really like it. Perhaps it was all part of one beautiful big house at one time and has been broken up into several units for rental. Ours is a two story townhouse sort of thing.

I have an office I like. Design wise it's very modern and retro at the same time, not my usual taste, lots of sleek purple velvet furniture and art. I remember something about the shape of the desks. I sit low by my computer, on the floor, on carpet I think. I'm horny and want to go find my Hitachi Magic Wand vibrator.

Beau and his friends are playing, laughing and yelling, outside. There are other kids running around this courtyard, old fashioned kids, in coveralls with Southern accents. Boys out of time, with little pellet guns, who shoot at birds for pleasure, menacing, angry, little troublemakers.

All of these apartments sort of face in towards each other. There are widows walks around the tops of them, and each unit has it's own walled in private gardens. From the top walk I can just peek inside the gardens of my neighbors. They all have beautiful floral container gardens, with flowers that are so pretty and colorful. I hear a woman and a man arguing. Each one is accusing the other of calling out for Esther. "Who the heck is Esther," they're saying. "Well, I don't know, you're the one whose been yelling her name." "No, you are!" So I shyly say, "I know an Esther, she's my housekeeper." The woman comes out and we start talking. We talk about the apartments and flowers. She asks how much rent I'm paying, I say two thousand per month. I realize that I like this place so much that I want to keep it, even when my house is finished, but I know I can't afford to.

As I explore the house it grows and becomes more antebellum, larger, older, more gothic in feel. The neighbors seem hostile and threatening playing cards and games next door. I go downstairs and towards the back of the house. The cats follow me and I feel protective of them.Collapse )