university + breathplay.
Jul. 22nd, 2004 10:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starfrostingAhhh I forget what I was gonna write about, so I'll just assume it was about how much I miss school.
I'm actually dreaming about it.
I had a dream that it was wintertime at alternate-Vassar where the buildings were brick and covered in ivy and I wandered into this class on marriage in Thailand. I said, "wait, this isn't postmodern feminism!" but the prof (perhaps a combination of Wendy Graham and Gayle Rubin or something?) seemed amused + convinced I should stay. She helped me find my way to the building where this other class was, where we had to scale the wall to climb in through the window.
Lots of dreams about this mentoring/professorly thing, actually. Like the one where a man who was my friend clamped his hand down over my mouth when we were underwater in the ocean. It was totally comforting. He said, "okay, breathe" and counted to calm me down. I was simultaneously breathing/not breathing, and when we came up, I felt so calm and centered and triumphant. A big wave crashed over us and went up his nose. Ironic, eh? Ahh, dreams- where breathplay underwater with gay male mentors is possible.
At any rate, not only do I miss all of you fine fine Vassar friends, I miss having a small room that I keep clean. Stacks of books, and coffee, and the library, and papers to write, and poststructuralist linguistics to talk about w/Matt, and and and...Filthy academia. How I love it.
ps I love my home friends as well. But you already knew that.
I'm actually dreaming about it.
I had a dream that it was wintertime at alternate-Vassar where the buildings were brick and covered in ivy and I wandered into this class on marriage in Thailand. I said, "wait, this isn't postmodern feminism!" but the prof (perhaps a combination of Wendy Graham and Gayle Rubin or something?) seemed amused + convinced I should stay. She helped me find my way to the building where this other class was, where we had to scale the wall to climb in through the window.
Lots of dreams about this mentoring/professorly thing, actually. Like the one where a man who was my friend clamped his hand down over my mouth when we were underwater in the ocean. It was totally comforting. He said, "okay, breathe" and counted to calm me down. I was simultaneously breathing/not breathing, and when we came up, I felt so calm and centered and triumphant. A big wave crashed over us and went up his nose. Ironic, eh? Ahh, dreams- where breathplay underwater with gay male mentors is possible.
At any rate, not only do I miss all of you fine fine Vassar friends, I miss having a small room that I keep clean. Stacks of books, and coffee, and the library, and papers to write, and poststructuralist linguistics to talk about w/Matt, and and and...Filthy academia. How I love it.
ps I love my home friends as well. But you already knew that.
