Monday, July 11, 2005


I never thought I'd ever graduate from college, especially after my first attempt at it in :::cough 1988 cough:::. Then, I dropped out after a year and a half - six credits shy of a technical certificate in photography and one semester of art classes - because I was totally unprepared and burnt out emotionally, mentally and spiritually.

So this time, when I went back in 2002, the fear of getting burned out again was always in the back of my mind. That, and this weird addiction I have for knowledge (more! more!), spurred me on. I felt as if I was racing to get all I could before the mind numbing emptiness engulfed me again. I took everything that interested me when I had the time between required classes - astronomy, voice, popular dance, philosophy, world religions...

Now I'm scheduled to graduate in December but I don't have to go back, except to take an exit exam, which I keep forgetting about. When printmaking class ended in May, it seemed so anticlimactic. There was no transition, just boom! "You're done." Go on about your life now.

last night's dream
I am in a dark blue semi (the blue is about the same shade as the tab on Windows XP's task bar that shows which window is active.) There is another woman with me and we are trying to deliver our cargo, although there are several guys determined to steal it. We finally back the semi into an old car shed on an old, hilly and curvy rural highway and stuff the cargo into an old trunk. Then we watch the guys through the crack between the doors as they search for us. They can't see the truck because it blends in with the dark interior of the shed.

Now, I am at a graduation reception. Ten or twelve tables are set up in a place that seems to be both in- and out- doors at the same time. They are laid out with white linen tablecloths, china plates and gold candlesticks. Despite this, no one is really dressed up. My friend, S., is sitting to my right and I have a letter from another friend, C., in front of me. Suddenly, it hits me that I am graduating - it's over. I am so sad and I begin to cry but I go to the restroom so no one will see my tears. I get myself back together and come back to read C.'s letter. I am going to miss these people.

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