Shopping on Mars

Dreams are strange things.

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Dreaming Light by RHADS

 

They can be exhilarating, romantic, horrifying, puzzling, and often, to me, inexplicable. Many people describe recurring dreams that they have when stressed or anxious. You know, showing up naked for an exam you aren’t prepared for, that kind of thing.

 

naked

 

My anxiety dreams often involve either driving or swimming. I avoided learning to drive and getting my driver’s license until I was in my 30s. I’ve never really learned to swim and am afraid of water. It’s not just the idea of drowning, but all of the things that might be lurking under the water. I don’t take long baths, and stick to quick showers, avoiding with all my might getting water in my eyes. Don’t worry, I do stay clean!

 

jaws_movie

dunn dunn

 

I don’t mean to single out sharks. I don’t fear them in particular. There are lots of tiny little toothy things in the water that can nibble on you, too.

 

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The other night, I was having a rather enjoyable dream that I was going on a shopping trip to Mars. The planet Mars. The Red Planet, named after the God of War. Not your usual shopping destination.

 

mars-and-other-planets

 

Note that I am not one who likes to go out shopping. Online shopping has transformed my life. I rarely have to go into an actual brick and mortar store. I haven’t resorted to having my groceries delivered. Yet. But a trip to a mall is my idea of hell on the planet Earth. I do enjoy perusing small local shops when I travel, but that’s not nerve wracking and annoying like going to THE MALL.

 

mall
This is NOT my idea of a good time.

 

But in my dream I was very happy to be going to Mars for my shopping expedition. I was on a space shuttle-like transport that looked a lot like the Swedish subway system. It was clean and quiet and not very crowded. In fact, I was the only passenger. Perfect!

 

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Swedish subway system

 

I wasn’t wearing a space suit. I guess the whole gravity thing had been figured out. Hey, it’s my dream. I don’t have to wear a space suit and get helmet hair if I don’t want to!

 

helmet hair 2
Is it?

 

spacesuit
I’m all for equal opportunity and women as astronauts. Go for it! But can we get Project Runway involved in a more flattering space suit?

 

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I was happily anticipating my arrival on Mars. The shuttle was starting to vibrate as it approached the station. And just as we were about to dock I woke up (groggily) realizing that at 2:40 a.m. we were experiencing a real-life earthquake. It’s California. They happen. This one was 4.4 magnitude. We live on the Hayward fault. The epicenter of this quake was the nearby Claremont Hotel. As far as I am aware, there were no reported injuries or damages.

 

epicenter

Claremont

 

I pretty quickly went back to sleep after a brief wait for either a bigger jolt to come or aftershocks, but I never got to find out what my shopping experience on Mars would be. What would I be shopping for? I imagine if I were to be shopping on the moon, say, I might find a cheese store. A vegan cheese store at that, since there aren’t any dairies on the moon and I only eat vegan cheese anyway. I’d be like Wallace, when he goes to the moon on A Grand Day Out with Gromit and they picnic on moon cheese. Einstein can fill in for Gromit.

 

 

In my mind, I would enjoy my Mars shopping experience because it would be quiet, not crowded, and I wouldn’t have to drive anywhere. Except maybe to ride on a Rover. That might be fun.

 

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I found a company online that purports to sell land on Mars, but I don’t need to be a land owner. Mars isn’t anyone’s to sell that I know of!

 

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Another site tells me that 200,000 people have signed up with the company Mars One for a one-way mission to Mars. Should I say 200,000 gullible people?

 

dressed up

 

Back to my shopping trip. Who would set up shop on Mars? I don’t want it to be kitschy souvenir stars with key chains and mugs and pencil sharpeners or televisions shaped like space helmets.

 

JVC Videosphere

 

No advertising slogans like “Out  of this world deals!” It will all be understated and tasteful. Again, I think I have Mars confused with a Scandinavian country. Only brown and dry.

By Scandinavian, please don’t think IKEA! I mean the expensive, gorgeous housewares and furniture of my dreams. Not DIY particle board furniture and Swedish meatballs.

 

 

My Mars shopping experience must include: delicious vegan chocolate, coffee, books, gorgeous ceramics, amazingly comfortable yet flattering shoes, and a kitchen store beyond all kitchen stores. And perhaps a pet supply store. Otherwise it’s not worth the approximate 300 day trip. In my dream, I think it only took about 20 minutes, but still, for me to put on shoes, get to a shuttle, and go into stores, it’s gotta be good.

Chocolate. Luxury Martian chocolate. In the shape of planets and fun little Mars rocks. Dark chocolate. Mmmm.

 

amore di mona
Amore di Mona luxury vegan chocolate. It’s a thing.

 

Coffee. Can’t travel without it. The shuttle to Mars will have a barista and coffee bar, naturally.

 

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Coffee bar design by Starbucks (!) for the Swiss Federal Railways. I’m not a big Starbucks fan, but I like the coffee bar.

 

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The coffee bar when you arrive on Mars. (Image: Mapo House.)

 

Books. If it takes 300 days to get to Mars, I assume it takes the same amount of time to return to Earth. (Maybe I’m wrong. I avoided any courses in physics throughout my academic path.) I am going to need a lot of books! As much as I love Powell’s City of Books (3 stories across an entire city block) in Portland, Oregon, I think my Mars bookstore should be a bit more, I don’t know, sleek? Celestial? Breathtaking? I’m voting for Prologue Bookstore in Singapore to take on the Mars venture.

 

powells
My favorite bookstore.
Prologue
Prologue, Singapore.

 

Ceramics. I am envisioning ceramics along the line of Heath Ceramics (based in Sausalito, California), only made of Mars dust.

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Shoes. Good shoes are so important to health and happiness. I wasn’t born with the shoe obsession my mother and a lot of other women seem to have, but shoes can make or break your day.

 

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Spotted in Oakland, California. Not my car.

 

I work at an animal shelter and am on my feet all day. My shoes have to be practical and comfortable. I am tired of shoes that make my feet look like clown feet.

 

 

If you are bopping around on Mars, you have to have good shoes. I want them to still be cute and petite looking, while not hurting my feet. Currently, I mostly wear Skechers or clogs, which are fine, but give a girl a break. I’m a girly girl at heart. And a vegan. Finding cute, practical, comfortable shoes that are vegan friendly ain’t that easy. Please don’t suggest Crocs.

 

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How many ways can I say NO to this look???

 

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White shoes, not going to work for me.

 

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Cute but not practical for the animal shelter.

 

I’m leaning right now toward the Mars store being an outlet of Insecta shoes from Brazil. Cute, ecologically minded, vegan. I haven’t tried them on yet to gauge the comfort level, but I am intrigued. They are made from recyled used clothing and plastic bottles.

 

 

The one kitschy souvenir idea I am behind–socks with images of Martians, space ships, etc. You have to have the sock wardrobe.

mars socks

 

Kitchen store. Kitchen gadgets, accessories, and cooking tools–yes! I adore a good kitchen store.

 

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Faraday’s Kitchen Store, Austin, Texas. 

 

Some people claim that the 190-year old store E. Dehillerin on Rue Coquillière in Paris is the best place on planet Earth for buying cookware. If it’s good enough for Julia Child…There’s also the highly rated Kitchen Bazaar on avenue de Maine in Paris. I’m thinking I should take a little research trip there soon.

 

E. Dehillerin

 

Pet supplies. Should I take any of the resident companion animals along on the shopping trip? Einstein gets motion sickness, so he might not appreciate the shuttle trip to Mars. Marble could maybe handle it if I took enough crunchy food along for him. Sara is too old; at 19 she’d rather stay home and get updates in the comfort of her warm bed. For some reason, I see Misty coming along for the trip.

cat in space

 

Once we get there, I’ve promised her a beautiful blue jeweled collar as a memento of the journey. So, we will need an awesome pet supply store on Mars, too.

 

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Misty looks like a high maintenance diva, but she’s a tough girl.
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Pet boutique.
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If I try to put this collar on Misty, I am going to need a Martian medic!

 

space medic
I hope there are medics in space.

 

I imagine this celestial shopping journey is going to cost a pretty penny or two, so I better get out there and start saving up! But a girl can dream. So I will.

space for girls

 

Broken Dreams

 

I had a dream about dreams. In the dream, the one I had while asleep; the kind where you see weird stories and wake up in the morning thinking, “What was that all about,” there was a bittersweet moment in which a beloved person looked at me and referred to broken dreams, at which I smiled.

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I woke up wondering what that was all about. Do I have broken dreams? In the literal dream I seemed to recognize the reference to my broken life dreams. This sounds so sad, yet it was also a romantic moment in the dream, that connection you have looking in the eyes of another person and feeling an understanding.

Are my broken dreams educational? I did have dreams of an Ivy League university with ivy-covered old brick buildings and finally fitting in somewhere. But I went to a small state school, dropped out, and then eventually went back to a big state school, which I loved. And now I am working on my PhD, which is mostly online, so the whole ivy-covered brick building idea is a thing of the past anyway.

ivy

 

Or is it my ever-downward career spiral; downward in terms of monetary rewards, not the mental or emotional ones. Yes, I had dreams there, too. Once to be an artist until I realized artists have to be really savvy at representing themselves if they don’t want to starve, Then of a museum career, which I did for a while. That dream seemed promising until it turned sour last year. And now I am in what I realize is my dream job after all—working at an animal shelter helping connect people and homeless animals and making lives better. I make almost no money, but I love going to work every day. And that is a rare gift.

shrem 1
Seemed like a good idea at the time.

I’ve had ups and downs along the way in my love life, of course. A marriage that seemed good until it didn’t, and a divorce that was painful but from which I ultimately came out of a stronger, smarter person. For a while. Until I hit the next relationship bump in the road, which was really more of a mountain, but I climbed that mountain and came down sober, determined, and excited about life. Thank you, Bob, for climbing that mountain with me.

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Children. There it is. I never had children. I am not childless by choice but by the fickleness of human biology. I would have adopted in a heart beat, but in a relationship, I firmly believe that both partners should agree to as big a decision as children, so I gave that dream up. And sometimes it still hurts terribly when I see happy families and children being children. For a while, I wouldn’t go to baby showers. Now I am too old to have friends that are having baby showers. I have great-nieces and great-nephews. I am old enough to be a grandmother. And at night, asleep, I do still dream of that little girl I longed for. She’s a smart, impish, sprite of a thing, with blue eyes and strawberry-blond hair and my mother’s cute button nose. She has a wreath of flowers on her head. She holds my hand. I call her Jessa, short for Jessamyn. She sometimes seems real to me. I drew a picture of her once, but I put it away because it makes me cry to look at it.

flower girl

 

But (there’s always that but), I see how scary crazy the world is right now, and hear how for the first time in America, children will have a shorter life expectancy than their parents. For so long, there was an assumption that each generation did better than the one before. That is gone, as far as I can tell. I travel through Oakland and San Francisco, even Berkeley, and there are so many parts that look like so-called Third World countries. It’s heart-breaking. And it getting worse, not better.

Would I deny myself my Jessa if I could have had her? No, of course not. But she wasn’t meant to be, so I try to reconcile myself to that. Does this make a broken dream? I suppose so. But life goes on. Kittens need to be fostered. And I can meet lots of Jessa-like children at the animal shelter, and help them meet the dog or cat of their dreams. One of my favorite sounds in the world is that of a child squealing when she or he sees the animal that is the one they can’t live without. “Mom, I NEED that cat!” I’ve said those words, and I love to hear them. And I can help. Dream come true.

the first foster
My first foster kitten, Abracadabra.

Peace and hugs.

 

 

Tim Gunn and Ruby Dee walk into a bar…

I have strange dreams. I wish I knew what they meant. Or maybe I don’t want to know! The human brain is a strange and wondrous thing. And sometimes infuriating.

dream-interpretation
I seriously doubt I look this cute when I am sleeping. I’m more likely a Homer Simpson style sleeper.

In the early morning mash-up of what I can remember of my dreams this morning, Ruby Dee lived across the street from me and was trying to get me to weed between the paving stones leading to her front door.

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What’s wrong with a few weeds anyway?

I really didn’t want to do it, and was trying to work up the courage to say NO to Ms. Dee. I don’t think about Ruby Dee. Ever. I’m sure she was a wonderful person, and she and Ossie Davis were an awesome couple. But I couldn’t name anything she starred in and I have no idea how she felt about weedy walkways. And where was Ossie in this weed pulling debate?

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Ruby Dee
Ruby Dee and Ossie Davis, photo by Moneta Sleet Jr.

Meanwhile (in the dream), I was also taking a writing class from Tim Gunn. Tim Gunn who teaches FASHION, not writing, and who is my favorite person on Project Runway. I love Tim Gunn. But he was being kind of mean to me in my dream.

tim-gunn

In this dream writing class, I was supposed to be writing a story in which someone agrees to do something they don’t want to do (like weeding pathways, I guess) for someone they care about. I was not inspired by this assignment. So in his “make it work” way, Tim made me go outside with him. Outside just happened to be a vast ocean, and his idea is that we  would walk on water into the giant waves. I refused. Vehemently.

tsunami

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Maybe Tim Gunn was just trying to rid me of my new old-lady habit of wearing a big old cardigan sweater over my bathrobe. Tim–it’s warm and comfy!

Perhaps Tim Gunn can walk on water, a la Peter Sellers in the wonderful 1979 movie Being There.

being-there

But I can’t. Or shall I say, we will never know if I can because I am afraid of water and will never go out there to find out. This fear is called aquaphobia (not hydrophobia–that’s when you have rabies, which I don’t).

“Aquaphobia is a specific phobia that involves a level of fear that is beyond the patient’s control or that may interfere with daily life. People suffer aquaphobia in many ways and may experience it even though they realize the water in an ocean, a river, or even a bathtub poses no imminent threat.” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aquaphobia)

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When you Google aquaphobia, this is always the first image that comes up. Creepy, yes?

I do not desire a swimming pool, or even a hot tub. I do not soak in bubble baths. I have recently discovered that pedicures are nice, but if someone has ever drowned getting a pedicure I haven’t heard about it. If you have, please don’t tell me.

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I like to gaze out upon water, like at calm lakes and ponds (see Falling in love with frogs), preferably from a rocking chair on a porch.

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Don’t get me wrong. I am a clean person. I shower.

aqua-cartoon

You’ll never refer to me as Pig-Pen, who traveled in a cloud of dust but was actually a cool, free spirit.

Rain is good. Good for staying out of, indoors, with a mug of hot coffee, a book, and a cat.

book
My perfect day.
tshirt
Hey, there’s even a t-shirt. Just make mine coffee instead of tea.

Is it a total coincidence that I woke up from these dreams to rain outside? (Cue theremin sound here:)

That’s good news–it means I don’t have to pull weeds for Ruby Dee! Now to my coffee, cat, and a good book. Perhaps Tim Gunn’s The Natty Professor: A Master Class on Mentoring, Motivating and Making it Work!

gunn-book

Or maybe The Fear of Water Cure.

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But then I’d have to buy a bathing suit. Is there a word for bathing suit anxiety?

yep

Stay dry.