Last night I had a dream about you
October 15, 2005
I'm such a liar! Twelve days since my last update in which I promised that I would update soon.
Well, I've been off pretending to be busy with touristing, then travelling back to Egypt, coming down with a bad cold on the plane, and then going into work just hours after getting off that plane with the horrible cold, and on my first day of fasting. [I had the excuse for not fasting while in Ireland.]
Last night I finally showed my family my pictures from Ireland - about 400 of them - after having removed all the ones that were deemed not suitable for parental viewing. [There were only about 20.] Some of the last photos were from my hostel in Galway - pictures and video of two of the guys who worked there, jamming on mandolin, guitar, and harmonica. About one of the guys, the Quebecois with long, black hair my sister said, "Hey! Is that your new man? He looks to be just your type." At which point my mother freaked out, and my sister had to reassure her that she was just joking, and that as far as she knew there was nothing going on between David and me. Which is funny because I was too busy focusing on the short-haired, bearded American sitting to David's left. Andy, the American folk musician from Wisconsin. Anyone who knows anything about my past love life should know why it is funny that I went all the way to Ireland just to find, and apparently crush on, a musician named Andy. From Wisconsin.
I don't think I realized I was crushing on him at the time. But last night I had a vivid dream about him. It was my last couple of days in Ireland and I decided to leave Dublin and spend my last night in Galway. When I arrived at the hostel I was warmly greeted by the many friends I had made there, who had all thought that we'd said goodbye for the last time a few days prior. Andy was on duty, and therefore rushing about the hostel getting things done. It was only a little while later that we were able to sit down and talk. I found him alone in the kitchen, and told him that I'd be staying the night. "Yeah, I figured," he said. "I made up a bed for you." Then he offered me some tea, and some cereal and we chatted. He told me how just a few days ago he had found and spoken to the Italian girl he had broken up with a few months before. They were trying to work things out.
In my dream, I was crushed, but refused to show it. I woke up confused, and wondering what my subconscious was trying to tell me.
But more importantly, because of the vividness and details of the hostel that I had forgotten that appeared in the dream, I woke up realizing that so many of the details and memories I have from Ireland are already slipping away, and I want to record them for my own memory, but also to share them with you.
It's going to take a while, but at least now I can supplement it with pictures! Stay tuned, folks. I promise I won't stay away for too long this time.
Till then, enjoy this picture of "Samba Man" - one of the players in a samba band Yaz and I marched with during an anti-war demo in London.
