as i entered the dream i knew that my daughter was dead. she had been gone for several days. i don't know how she died, i don't know why we hadn't told anyone else, i don't know why we chose to bury her in the garden instead of contacting the authorities. the thought that eventually someone might ask me where she was when they realized she was curiously absent did not cross my mind. i was, instead, simply sitting on the couch, rocking back and forth, and repeating her name endlessly under my breath. we had friends over and none seemed to notice she wasn't there. my husband was walking around the house looking shell shocked but trying to keep it together for the gathering we were hosting. my son was outside, presumeably to play, but i knew he was actually just sitting on the wet grass under the dogwood tree, staring.

suddenly, my old cat, bagheera, strolled into the livingroom, looking fresh and white and beautiful as always. this would not have been unusual had he not also died, last december. he casually leaped up into my lap, curled up, and began purring. tears sprang to my eyes as i began to pet him. he showed no trace of having been dead for nine months, or of having been buried in our garden. i cried out, "leon! leon! it's bagheera! look! he's alive, he's okay!" leon glanced over but wasn't the least bit interested in coming to see his newly ressurected cat. i was still stroking him and staring at him in wonder. how did this happen?

then we heard it. "mommy..." at the front door. "mommy..." the sound of little fists knocking and her sweet little voice. "mommy..."

i jumped up, letting the cat drop to the floor, and dashed to the front door, opening it to see my small daughter, not dead, not dead, not dead, but alive! relief coursed through my system and i bent over and swooped her up into my arms, looking her in the eyes. she was smiling at me. she also showed no sign of having been buried in the dirt under our bean plants. she was wearing her favourite jacket and had pigtails in her hair. i sobbed and laughed. i swung her around and said her name outloud. i cried. i pressed her body against mine and put my face into her hair. that was when i smelled her. she was pungent and the scent was the unmistakeable scent of the decomposition of flesh, at once both tangy and sweet and foul. i held her out from me again, looking her all over. she was still laughing and smiling. i looked around the room to find leon staring at us in wonder. there was an unspoken agreement between us to not tell anyone that laurel had died, so how could we publicly express our shock and wonder at her rising from her sodden grave? she was wiggling in my arms, the smell still rising off of her. i was at once repelled and yet i could not let her go. i pressed her to me again, deciding that it didn't matter, even if she was undead, i was still too happy to have her back in my life. if the only thing i had to get used to was the scent of decay eminating off her body it was a small price to pay. i started to let her down, so she could go play with the other children that were visiting our house, and that was when i saw that one of her ears, behind her hair, was discoloured and wilted looking. i pushed the hair back to look more closely. it was unnaturally leathery and tanned looking, brown-leaning-towards-yellowy black. her arm swung around to push me away - she wanted to go play - and when her jacket sleeve slid up with the movement i saw more signs of decay along her forearm. medium-to-large yellowish spots surrounded by the dark purpley-black rings of blood pooling in her flesh. i put her down. my body filled with grief. i knew she was still dead, then. i knew it, and i did not know what to do about it. she trundled off into the backyard, still acting completely normal.

i cornered leon and we tried to talk about what to do. how could we tell anyone what was going on when we'd never even said anything about her dying in the first place? how could we explain our reasoning for burying her in the garden instead of contacting the authorities and letting all of the official stuff happen? how could we express our shock and fear and amazement that our daughter had risen from the dead? i told him about the signs of decay on her body, the smell. we knew it would only be a matter of time before she started to fall apart completely. then it would be obvious, then we would be in trouble. i started to cry again, filled with grief. leon suggested we take her somewhere remote and drown her, or burn her, or cut her into pieces and bury them far apart from one another. i sobbed and sobbed. her first death had not been our fault; how could i say yes to ending her existance purposefully. how could we think we'd get away with it? "no, no," i said, panicking. "no. we'll take her to the hospital. we'll show them the spots on her body, make them smell her. they'll know what to do. please. we can't do anything else."

we looked out over the edge of the balconey at her playing merrily with her friends. she seemed completely normal if a little slower than usual. liam was standing beside the tree, not playing or talking, just staring at his sister in wonder and fear. the little spots and discolourations on her skin were so visible to me. i felt like i would have to watch her disintegrate over time, this way. i felt that her leaving us again was an inevitibility. i was completely seized with grief and sorrow. i wanted to pull her to me, to fill her up with love, to try and cure whatever sickness had fallen on her. but i was afraid. i was afraid of the smell of death. i was afraid that if i hugged her too hard, her skin would come away from her flesh in pieces. i woke up with tears squeezing out of my eyes.

i was in labour - transition, in fact - and i thought, "what the hell? i'm not pregnant!" but there wasn't much room in my brain for wondering about this curious happenstance, because the baby was coming right now and i was completely alone with only my husband in the room with me. i moaned and screamed her out. her head appeared first and i put my hand on her little wet scalp and peered down at her scrunched-up face. then her body slithered out and i pulled her up onto my stomach to look more closely at her. she wasn't screaming or crying and i saw that the cord was wrapped, tight, around her neck. i nearly panicked and tried to slip my wet fingers between her neck and the thick, wet cord, but it was so tight there was no room to do so. in terror i pressed my teeth against the cord and bit. it was rubbery. the baby was turning blue. i bit and bit, and finally, it sprang back with a tiny gush of blood. i looked at the baby again, definitely a girl, and she was still not breathing or crying. i held her to my chest and patted her back hard, saying, "breathe, breathe, breathe." finally she gulped back a tiny bit of air. and again. and again. and then she wailed.

i looked up at my husband, adrenalyn pumping through my body.

"how did this happen!" i cried, accusatory. "how did this happen! you had a vasectomy! how could i get pregnant!"

he had no words. in fact, he did not want to look me in the face. it was then i knew the baby was not his. i clutched her to my body. we were cold, wet, messy. leon was not helping at all. i felt little contractions still, as my body tried to expell the placenta. "i don't understand. i didn't even know i was pregnant. how did i get this baby?"

he walked out of the room, still not speaking to me, letting me alone with the baby girl, who i named rebecca. she was quiet as i pressed her to my breast, she latched on perfectly. i tried to remember...and couldn't. i tried to feel anything at all about this turn of events, but couldn't. all i felt was acute dread at having to take care of another baby, another newborn; this time, completely alone.

i was in an abandoned amusement park and robin williams was there, hugging me and talking about how great it's been to watch me grow up, ever since i was one of the children actors in "the world according to garp". "i've known you for 25 years, lynn," he said, "and you've turned into a beautiful woman." and then he squeezed my ass.

it was the night after a huge, blowout, wing ding of a party on the Flaming Lips compound in oklahoma city, oklahoma. the place was still kind of a shambles, since no one had had the wherewithall to pick up the detritus of intense fun-having of the night before. popped balloons and empty beer bottles and clothes were strewn recklessly throughout the section of the house i found myself in. i was sitting on a lumpy but comfortable sofa. the light was dim and cozy. i was wearing a blue, zip-up hoodie with nothing but a bra on underneath, and jeans. i had been trying to doze, someone had put a blanket over me, but steven drozd walked into the room and started chatting quietly with me. there was a t.v. on, at the other end of the room, with no sound. he was holding a camcorder and trying to document everything that was happening. he started filming me and i felt uncharacteristically chatty and outgoing. i flipped the blanket down from under my chin and unzipped my hoodie and impishly flashed my enormous tits at the camera. drozd thought this was hilarious and i blushed and covered up again. he begged me to do it again, so i did. that was when wayne coyne walked into the room too, and sat next to me. i asked him where steve burns was, since he was kind of my chaperone at the party. he said that steve was busy in the studio at the other end of the compound, but that he'd be back later. steven drozd told wayne i'd been flashing my breasts at the camcorder and wayne scootched over closer to me, his thin legs pressed together and his arm around my shoulder. "do it again," he said. i flushed and declined, suddenly shy again. "come on, just once more," he urged, "i want photographic evidence that i was present for such an important unveiling." i started laughing and flipped the blanket down again and unzipped the hoodie just enough to show the rounded tops of my moonwhite boobs. drozd was just very matter-of-factly filming everything that was happening, getting it at different angles, kneeling in front of wayne and i. wayne was sort of lecherously hanging over my shoulders at that point, looking straight down into my impressive cleavage, not saying anything, until finally he uttered, "i must touch them. just so." and i acquiesced and the next thing i knew his warm palm was just very gently and softly grazing the barely visible tops of my breasts, over and over again. it wasn't sexual at all, at least not for me. it felt more like i was an avatar of the goddess and coyne was worshipping at her altar, paying his respects, almost.

this went on for a while. i remember thinking how skinny his legs and knees were, next to me. his tender touch was like that of a child, a newly-weaned child, still longing for the comfort of mother's milk but knowing he'll be redirected if he gains the courage to ask for it. no words were spoken, until steve burns walked into the room and took the scene in with wide brown eyes. i knew in an instant he was immeasurably jealous and disappointed in me. i pushed wayne's hand away at that point and zipped the hoodie up to my chin. "this is how it is," steve said, "i see." i stood up and tried to think of the right thing to say but nothing came. steve turned and walked back out. drozd was still filming everything. wayne stood up and shrugged. "he'll get over it," he said. "it was entirely innocent. we are all artists here, after all."

i also dreamt that i was at the beach with my kids, and my son turned to me and said, "mom, can i have a smoke?" and i put a cigarette inbetween his lips and lit it for him, thinking "i really shouldn't be doing this!" and saying to him, "if anyone else comes along you've gotta ditch that thing!" and him nodding in a conspiratorial kind of way. god! i am trying to not put too much stock in that dream, though...because just before this had happened we were watching jeff goldblum dash, naked, through the roiling surf and he waved at me to join him and i declined. ha. as if i would ever say no to frolicking naked with jeff goldblum.

i dreamed last night that i went over to mom's and my aunt was there and she was like, this withered husk of who she was when i last saw her. i approached her from behind, first, as she was standing in the kitchen getting a glass out of the cupboard and it was obvious that she'd dropped like a million pounds and i was shocked that that could happen in a month, and then she turned around when i said, "hi auntie," and i nearly fell to my knees from shock because her whole body was completely withered and wrinkled like those shrivelled apple head dolls, and saggy and her cheeks were hollow and she just looked...i don't know...sick. and i started crying and saying, "oh auntie, why, why, why?" and she slapped me across the face and yelled at me, "do you really think i looked better 100lbs heavier?!?!" and i kept crying even though she hit me and i said, "you don't understand, you did, you did look better! and this is like...it's like you're hurting me that you did this!"

then the dream changed, and i was in serbia or bosnia or chechnaya or somewhere obscurely eastern european like that. it was like a big group holiday my family and i had gone on with my mom and our friend S. we were having a good time, researching our ancestors or something, but as we were leafing through folders in this green, dusty back room in a town library people started yelling outside and there were gunshots. we went to the doors to see the military moving through the streets, firing on what appeared to be unarmed civilians. we panicked and ducked under tables and tried to hide in between the stacks of books and file cases and waited until the soldiers had all passed to actually step out into the street. a man approached us and asked us if our rental car was parked across the road in this gated parking lot and we said yes. he gave our friend S. a tiny key and said he could go over there and take our belongings out of it but that we could no longer have access to the vehicle. S. went over and unlocked the padlock on the gate under the watchful gaze of a lone soldier, and got our things while we all waited, chewing our fingernails and trying to keep my kids occupied and unaware of what was happening. S. came back and handed us all our jackets and things, and i said, "oh no! i forgot to tell you that my passport and other i.d. was in the glove box, can you go back and get that?" and S. nodded and smiled and walked back over to unlock the gate again. the soldier didn't even look at him. we watched him walk across the parking lot. the sky was heavy and grey with clouds and it was starting to rain. i turned to say something to my mom, when there was a huge explosion that threw the soldier to the ground and rattled the windows of the library behind us, and when i looked over i saw that it was our rental car that had exploded, and in rush of agony i knew that there was no way S. had survived it, that he had probably triggered the car bomb by opening the glove box, that it had been me that had asked him to do it, and i looked at my mom again and there were tears in her eyes and disbelief and i just screamed at the top of my lungs and fell down on the ground and screamed and wept and screamed and screamed and everyone else was crying and screaming too and all i could think was, "how on earth can i go home and tell his family this?" and i woke up with my ears ringing.

i don't read Latin

this is my translation of Thomae Campiani's Elegiarum Libre
translated even though i don't read the language it was written in.

True, years add moonlight to your fruit, passing green days
Truth is also aesthetic and soft, Sybil, love.
Creating new infernos in pallid flowers
And seeing, tricky, "Your day, for sooth, erodes."
And voices "arid" and bland seep scarlet echoes;
Alluding voices mimick my nymph, so missed.
You tricked them, simulated suspect, forearmed
Struck dumb by your spectre, more cutting than Love.
It's tactile, tacit ills; taciturn spirits wrote:
This liquor, offensive, quarrelsome days.
Truthfully, I love Venus' parties where who bleeds, soothsays
Lighting insidious fires behind.
Nine takes its immortality, Love saves her special scents
To crudely fix man to his accurate pictures.
"Hey miser," you cry, "You musn't put Mama into labour;"
"Labour," the echoes reply, "To what rogue diva do you refer?
our Sybil?" "I am," you respond: seeping venom
molts ages of truth far from your nibblings:
some danger; and thanks, oh furnace that quickly and temporarily ignites,
I am middlin, no more a frigid poet with only hymns.



this is the original poem:
Thomae Campiani
Elegiarum Libre

Ver anni lunaeque fuit: pars verna diei;
verque erat aetatis dulce, Sybilla, tuae.
carpentem vernos niveo te pollice flores
ut vidi, dixi, "tu dea veris eris."
et vocalis "eris" blanditaque reddidit Eccho;
allusit votis mimica nympha meis.
vixdum nata mihi simulat suspiria, formam
quae dum specto tuam plurima cudit Amor.
si taceo, tacet illa; tacentem spiritus urit:
si loquor, offendor garrulitate deae.
veris amica Venus fetas quoque sanguine venas
incendit flammis insidiosa suis.
nec minus hac immitis Amor sua spicula nostro
pectore crudeli fixit acuta manu.
"heu miser," exclamo, "causa non laedor ab una;"
"una," Eccho resonat; "quam, rogo, diva, refers?
anne Sybillam?" "illam," respondit: sentio vatem
mox ego veridicam fatidicamque nimis:
nam perii, et verno quae coepit tempore flamma,
iam mihi non ullo frigore ponet hyems.


a fun exercise that you should try. pick a poem in a language you don't read. translate it anyway. post your results.

the icing on the tart

then i had a dream where i was at a party and simultaneously flirting with and making out with three different men, none of whom were my husband. one was even a friend (not a close one, someone i've barely seen in the last few years) and he was the one i was most excited about. one of the others was a 21 year old boy who was kind of preppy and had a goatee and was fat, and i would kiss him and he'd kiss back but then he'd apologize and act self-deprecating and say derrogatory stuff about his body. like, "i know i'm so huge it can't be fun to kiss me, but i swear i'll lose weight soon," and i was like, "don't even worry about it, baby," trying to reassure him but he was having none of it. and the third guy was this man i saw in a german movie last week called "enlightenment guarenteed" which was interesting and somewhat amusing but i didn't dig on some of the subtext to the film, but that's besides the point. as i was making out with this guy i was asking him questions about the movie, like, "now wait, did you play the role of ulwe? or were you gunther?" and he would say, "nein, nein, i vas ulwe!" he looked kind of like frasier. it was weird. i woke up feeling somewhat guilty over being such a tarty tart in my dreams, while leon slept next to me, blissfully unaware.

waiting for a superman

when i opened my eyes in my dream last night, i discovered i was back in my mama superhero costume. the rainbow harem pants, the silver corset, the silver boots, the big, crazy hair. i was in sydney australia, trying to navigate the train system there; and i was in a big rush. my girl [info]most_mysterious was with me, but she wasn't a superhero; she was desperately trying to find her daughter who'd gotten lost in a crush of people at train station and we hadn't noticed until we were already on the train and moving that she wasn't with us. we went two stations before we could push our way out of the car. we were both in a panic but i felt very strongly we'd be able to get back to her daughter. i had to literally shove people out of our way to get off the car. the train we'd been on was destined for a place called "trifle", and we had to go the opposite way on the line towards "ewing". i finally got us both off the train and we started dashing up a huge metal ramp to get to the other side of the tracks. there we passed a woman i met last year, a mother of one of liam's kindergarten classmates. she didn't have either of her two boys with her, though; instead she had twin toddler daughters who were having trouble getting up the ramp -- they kept falling and bonking their heads. i wanted to stop and help but [info]most_mysterious was panicking and screaming at me to go faster. i finally grabbed her by the upper arm and...i don't know how to describe it...it was like in the other dream when i managed to sort of defy gravity somewhat and take huge leaps through the air, bouncing down and then back up again, covering great amounts of terrain in a fraction of the time it would take a non-superhero to walk. she was trailing along beside me, trying to keep up, but i was dragging her through the air and her pathetic little mortal feet would scramble on the pavement each time we touched down. at one point she just looked up at me and said, "what on earth happened to you?" and i shrugged and said, "i've got no idea, but am i ever glad it did." and then i woke up. i have to say, i'm very much enjoying my "super-mama" dreams. i always come up to consciousness feeling very strong and vital. i wonder what they mean?

you seem so out of context

i dreamed last night that i was walking along a beach with my kids when a huge electrical storm hit and i had to run and dodge lightning bolts while dragging my kids along with me. we managed to find shelter in this weird skyscraper that was shaped like a horseshoe, and the ends of the horseshoe were wide open to the elements. a whole lot of people were seeking shelter in it, and despite it being a huge building, everyone was crowding into the lowest floor because (i was told) there was a monster of a tornado ripping towards the area. i forced my way to the back of the horseshoe shape and tucked my kids into a little dark closet so that they'd be safe from the blasting winds and rain, and then i tried to find my own space to crouch down. i was pushing my way through the throngs of people when i saw my mom stumbling along the beach, struggling through the torrential rain and barely missing being hit by lightning, and i ran out of the building again to try and help her. i pulled her inside just as the tornado appeared on the horizon, roiling across the choppy grey water of the ocean. it was massive. as thick and wide as an apartment complex, and taller than any building i'd ever seen, its funneled top swirling up into the atmosphere. i could see cars and huge chunks of houses swirling around inside its black innards and it's movement was purposeful and definitely headed straight towards the horseshoe building. i was terrified! i grabbed my mom and pushed her against one of the walls, yelling "crouch down! close your eyes! cover the back of your neck with your arms! i love you!" and we crouched down and the sound of the approaching tornado was deafening and rising by the second. becase my eyes were closed i did not see it hit but the sound of it became so horrendously loud that it drowned out my own screams. i didn't feel it hit.

when i opened my eyes, i was lying on the floor of a shiny, mirrored elevator, alone. stunned and confused, i stood up and took note of my appearance in the mirrors on the walls. the elevator was moving, heading down. my hair was long and impossible huge, pulled back into tight pony tail, and it was dyed a platinum yellow with streaks of pink, blue, peach and purple threaded throughout it. my clothes were even stranger. i was wearing a tight silver corset that zipped up the front and these crazy, colourful harem pants that flowed out around my thighs and the top half of my calves until they met up with my shiny, silver lace-up boots. on my arms i wore long, fingerless rainbow gloves that rode all the way up to just below my shoulders. looking in that elevator mirror, i realized the tornado had transformed me into some kind of new
superhero.

the elevator stopped moving, finally, and when the doors opened i stepped out into the lobby of what i assumed to be some kind of business building. people in dark suits clacked to and fro across the marble tile. i was quite a sight among them and got many strange looks, but it didn't bother me because i felt impervious and immune and confident. i strode across the lobby and stepped out into the impossibly bright sunlight of downtown seattle. traffic was crazy and after standing at a streetlight for a long time, waiting for the light to change and grinning at all the people who gawked at my crazy hair and apparel, i finally lifted my right leg high in the air, and stepped up onto the hood of a moving car, the driver within shocked and then suddenly swearing at me. i ignored him and began dashing across the road by leaping from moving car to moving car, all the drivers freaking out and honking and the crowds on the streets clapping and laughing at me. it was almost as though i did not have to obey the laws of physics anymore; striding over the moving vehicles felt like what i imagine walking on the moon would feel like, and although all the traffic was moving quickly and dangerously, i
knew i was in no peril. i was on my way to find my children and my mother, and nothing would stop me.

after i got across the intersection i strode down a shady alley and just as i exited onto another busy street a cherry red convertible filled with the seattle mamas peeled around a corner and came to a screeching halt in front of me. [info]charris, [info]photosprout, [info]estersin and [info]contessapiranha were all inside, laughing and hooting at me and motioning for me to get in the car with them. they were all done up in super hero costumes of their own, brightly coloured and a couple of them were even masked, and i remember specifically that [info]contessapiranha had some kind of fancy magic ring on her finger, heavy and thick and silver, and as i leapt into the backseat of the car she raised her bejewled hand into the air, made a fist, closed her eyes, and fwoom!, a sonic blast filled the street, bending skyscraper windows in on themselves, and stopping time. [info]photosprout was driving, and she dodged expertly around the frozen cars and pedestrians while we all cackled crazily, feeling high on our powers, and knowing that we were going to fulfill all our obligations as the world's new saviours.