Monday, May 01, 2006
Last night I had the weirdest dream. I was at a frum wedding, but it was totally unconventional.
I was wearing a beautiful bohemian dress, and I had my nose-ring in.
I guess I wasn't married because there was this handsome, Jewish college student I was flirting with. He was blonde and clean-shaven, with glasses. I was making all these witty comments and feeling like an attractive, magical woman. And then I spotted her.
She was beautiful and polished, with creamy skin and raven hair. She wore a black pea coat and classy shoes. Pearls. She was oozing class. And she started flirting with him, too.
That's it, I thought. I'm done. Why would this guy want me when he could have her?
I woke up feeling very sad. I remembered the girl I was, feeling inadequate next to all the rich, fashionable girls in high school. I remembered nights alone in my room, listening to Vivaldi and writing in my journal. Everybody else was at a party I wasn't invited to. I remember not fitting in - I didn't really know how.
I told a friend my dream, and she said both women were me. The hippie is the part of me that's still rough around the edges. The classy one is who I can be, or aspire to, or perhaps sometimes am.
We haven't quite figured out the role of no-beard college man, but somehow he's Yaakov.