Today is the six-month anniversary of my tumble down the stairs in front of my apartment, wherein I broke my tailbone and subsequently changed my whole life.
Okay, maybe that's exaggerating just a little, but that's what it feels like sometimes. I mean, in the past six months, I've adopted a new faith, made significant lifestyle changes (I mean, like, I recycle now...not obnoxiously, but pretty faithfully, believe it or not), added a new cat to my household, ended one band and started building a new one, changed roommates, passed the three-years-in-one-place milestone without up and moving away, grown closer and more connected to a wonderful community, redecorated my apartment, gained a nephew, decided to try to integrate action into my politics, and so much more stuff that's really tough to express in words.
And all because I spent ten weeks at home, sitting on my broke ass staring at the wall. I mean, with all that change, where did I have two months to do nothing?
I had a very strange dream last night. I dreamt I went back to school at Pitt, where I went the first time, only the dorm where I'd lived before was somehow merged with the Convent I used to live in...very strange. Anyway, so I'm back at school, and my brother and one of my uncles and some of my cousins came on this big expedition to visit me, and left behind a suitcase full of dirty clothes and a cell phone. A really old, clunky, ugly cell phone, circa 1989 or something.
One of my other uncles was a professor at Pitt (very strange, as he's a construction dude in real life), and he was helping me get the suitcase together and into my dorm room, out of the hall where the guys had left it. Meanwhile, I notice that in the suitcase is my dog, PeVe, so I grab him and drag the suitcase (which isn't really that big, but was totally heavy) into my room.
((sidenote: I can't tell you how awesome it was to hold my puppy...every now and then I miss him so much. Even now, when I woke up from this dream with two cuddly kitties purring me awake, I still miss his furry little face. No matter how I love other pets, I don't think there will ever be another PeVe. ))
So, when I get to my room, I suddenly realize that I'm not me....I'm this actor chick named Kate who I know through a couple totally unrelated connections. She's blond and well, an actress. Anyway, so suddenly I'm her, and I'm having to make an announcement about dinner through the school PA (how weird is that?)...so, I grab this very weird rattly rattan doo-dad that doesn't resemble anything useful whatsoever, and I start shaking it around so the little rattly parts shake together and sound like leaves falling. Then I lean into the PA's mic and yell "Suuuuuuuuuuuey! Suey!" like I'm calling pigs.
Next thing you know, I'm in trouble (apparently I've called a whole school pigs) and have to hide somewhere - my uncle (who's actually been around this whole time) suggests I hide in the attic. I say, "Oh, I knew someone who lived in the attic - my old roomie April."
And then I woke up.
Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.