dream dream dream...

Last night when I woke up at 3:30 am, it was from a dream where I was driving my car all through the desert, maybe even white sands, and I tipped over. I was not hurt and I don't remember the actual driving off the road or tipping of the car over; nothing like that. You know how dreams are...one second I was digging in the white hot sand, trying to make a little room for the car to back up and then when I stood up, my mind's eye pulled out to a wide shot of the entire scene: the huge, empty blue sky, the bright, beautiful sun, and the helpless car on its right side sunbathing on the hill, waiting to be moved. What the hell am I going to do now?


Friday began the weekend with a successful shoe shopping adventure - not bad - big sale at the DSW - not usually where I go because the planets have never aligned for me there, but Friday, they fell perfectly into place and the rock-star gladiators I have wanted all summer and small wedge yummy chocolate boots are all mine now :) Saturday was spent on the couch, immitating my cat for the day, quite lovely. I got to catch up with some folks over the weekend and was so glad to be able to connect with my soul sisters over the phone, get some info, give some info, spread the love. Looking forward to seeing Miss K next week. Will be superfun and delightful.


I realized this past week that I did not have tickets to go to shul for Yom Kippur. I have so taken it for granted all my life the times that I used to go home and go to services with my family. And now I'm like "Carie, you haven't lived at home for 17 years!" How is this any different? Get your little tuchas in that shul! The first time away from home, I was in Boston, I had the Chabad. Once I moved to Austin, I was closer to home so I would just got to El Paso for services for the holidays. I never joined any of the synagogues here and now a memebership for me is just not an expense I can afford right now and did I mention that tickets for the high holidays including parking was $360? Last year, I made a concentrated effort to get my (free) tickets (Dad was the president and they granted me reciprocity - but I still donated!) ahead of time and take time off work. This year got away from me because I was so enveloped in my own envelopedness, I just didn't do it. Now, it's the first day of Yom Kippur, I'm at work, I'm not fasting and I went to a baptism last night (before Kol Nidre, but still). So I've been doing a lot of reconciling with G.d (and ultimately, with myself).

It's funny how when I am in services, even if I'm not paying attention, even if all I can think of is what I'm going to eat for break the fast, it's like - well, at least I'm in services, I'm safe and my conscious can rest that I was here on the holy of holy holidays. Here the quiet hum of prayers is replaced by the leaf blowers outside. The children laughing and playing in the hallways is replaced by the smokers communing outside. There is no responsive reading, no praying and bowing here (except maybe when I adjust my bra). So, you might ask, why didn't you get your shit together in time to go to serives? Do you feel bad about not being there? If you do, then it's your own fault because I told you to just go and they would let you in; they are not going to turn you away from a service, you cute little yid, you. I would not know how to respond. I guess I thought maybe I could come up with something here. Maybe by pouring out my thoughts, the answer would make itself evident like little lemon seeds in my palm, but nope. So what the hell am I going to do now?