February 20th, 2010


A very strange dream

I dreamed I'd been living with J in Phoenix, working a good job, and he'd managed to get some kind of job that he liked that was fulfilling, doing training or something like that.

And then he got an offer to get a PhD at the university of Wisconsin. So we moved there, and I was having to find college housing, trying to share space in a one bedroom apartment with a bunch of 18 year olds who hadn't learned to hold their liquor much less keep regular sleeping hours. And my stuff hadn't shown up yet. And I was being dunned for library fines for something back in 1992.

Then I got a phone call from Seattle, and BANG there was the job I'd been looking for all my life, really exciting and challenging and working with people I liked. And I went there right away, and sat drinking tea around the table with the people who would be my colleagues, and they were all glad to see me (and there was some chocolate cake). Somehow this was J's job I'd been offered, but he wanted to get his PhD, and I didn't want to go back to looking for work I didn't like and living somewhere I hated. I was so excited because I could just move back into my house in Seattle and have friends and family there and I wasn't going to feel isolated.

But J wasn't going to be there. And if he moved to Seattle, I was going to have stolen his job from him. But if I stayed in Wisconsin, I was going to have nothing.

"Oh well," I told myself,"It's not like he wanted this job. I had a job I loved and I quit it. Those two years (for the PhD) will fly by like nothing."

And I realized as I drove off with my new colleagues that I'd managed to arrive before the Fourth of July, and I was going to get to see the fireworks, and everything was going to be perfect.

No idea what this dream means, as I feel I have the job I love. It does seem to some bit like I miss having a nice house to live in.

Flamenco again; aggression

J and I went to Sadler's Wells last night to see Eva Yerbabuena - it was a much more satisfying experience than last Sunday. Next week we're going twice, though I secretly want to go see one of the acts happening between now and next Thursday. Ah well. Time, never enough.

I've been thinking a bit about aggressiveness. I get called aggressive, almost always by men, and usually when they're unhappy with my behavior (bosses, my dad, Wechsler). I have come to believe that this calling a woman aggressive is actually a control tactic. I say this because you ONLY hear a man called aggressive because of physical behavior - though, to be honest, I think you'd just NOT say it to his face, you'd say it behind is back - but you don't call a man aggressive simply for stating his opinion. I believe aggressive, applied to a woman, is a way of saying "opinionated," as said by someone who doesn't enjoy having a woman express their opinion more strongly, or more convincingly, than the person who calls them aggressive. Because, really, they would NEVER say this to a man. It's a control tactic used to shut women up. And along those lines, have a look at this article on stereotyping women in business. Read the report at the bottom, it's where the meat is.

Uh, what else. J and I went to the BFI to see Late Autumn, which is one of the last movies we'll be seeing in the Ozu festival - it was nice but kind of light (a relief) with a very funny scene in which the men were talking about a colleague who had died 7 years ago ...
Man 1: His wife is so beautiful still!
Man 2: He used up all of his luck marrying her.
Man 3: You have to die early when you marry a woman that beautiful.
Old waitress: You need more sake?
Men: No thanks!
Man 1: Her husband will have a long life.
Man 2: Thank God for unexpected blessings, eh?

I was laughing out loud at how amazingly rude and mean they were. Later they were all saying they wished THEY were widowers - a horrible sentiment given that they were all married!

Anyway, we're having theatre geeks over for tacos tonight. It should be lots of fun, but I've got to clean STAT!