like a ghost into the fog

That was a long but good weekend. Friday night was a fun drag show followed by a late night of good conversation with J. Saturday was the Drowned Ball; my five cohorts in crime looked great, and we had a really good time. Sunday was brunch and then a lot of freelancing and housework. And now here I am back at work again. It's a blustery Monday morning, very beautiful and Oregon out, and I wish I could just go walk through the city for a couple of hours. Ah, well, maybe later.
I dreamed last night about a little boy wearing a sea turtle costume. Maybe he was six, maybe eight. He was sad, or sick; somehow he was broken. A humongous sea turtle crawled up to him and said "I can make it all better if you come with me." It turned and headed for the beach, the little boy by its side. When they got to the beach, which was lined with people laying on towels and sitting in plastic beach chairs, the sea turtle ponderously swam out a little way and called back to the boy, who was standing in the shallows, "Call the tides!" I'm not sure what the little boy did but suddenly the waves were lapping higher and higher on the beach, crashing over the beachgoers, who weren't leaving. I ran down to the water, shouting to the boy, "Wait, wait! Stop!" Another woman appeared. She looked angry. She moved to the boy and spoke to him in soothing tones, encouraging the tide. Then she stood up and approached me. "Leave him alone. He is my child now." I protested and we ended up rolling in the surf fighting. We chased each other up and down the beach throwing punches and smashing each other's faces into the sand. When we finally stopped we were on the boardwalk near the beach. I looked out; all the people were gone and the ocean was calm. The little boy approached. He took the woman's hand and together they walked away.
And with that, I really must get to work. Next time: a book or two.
Blessed Be!