November 24, 2010

Achy and bent from yesterday’s phlebitis attack. Whoever doubted the disease is brought on by stress should take the last couple of days as witness. Not a light one, but not a devastating one either, and I think I can address today’s tasks. No fever dreams this time, but in the regular dream before waking, I had invented a blanket that if elderly Chinese immigrants lay under it, it would not only restore their youth but provide them proper documentation for citizenship.

Illusion–perhaps the illusion–that the moon had been full many nights in a row. Varying silver on the backyard, slashed by the blue shadows of the trees.

Hauled three huge boxes full of clothes to Goodwill, and my closets are still what I would call overstuffed.

Cantaria sang for a gathering to honor the AIDS quilt at Pack Place. AIDS had receded a little in the public consciousness. I needed those handsome faces and appalling dates on the quilt to remind me of the lingering, wasteful tragedy.

Had to stay home from rehearsal last night watching Glee DVDs. The upside of that is that I received two wonderful phone calls from voices I had missed– Adam and Keith– who had thought of ways to get us reconnected. Sweet.