1/28/10
I'm sifting through piles of luscious pale pink lingerie.  It's more cotton than silk.  There's a table just heaped with pieces.  I can't always tell what kind of garments they are, like light sweaters or tights or what, but I'm very enthusiastic.
I'm in the ocean on a pretty morning or sunset.  It's somewhere where wooded islands are dotting the water, like the Chesapeake Bay or the Folly Channel.  There's a crowd of people floating in the water and from a boat some military gang is haranguing them.  Then I'm in the water and I see everyone else is an elderly woman, with long silvery hair wet from the water.  The military guy is saying everyone should have a crew cut.  I point out that we could kick his ass even with long hair.
I'm running on a stretch of asphalt.  It's like the loop in central park, torn up and scattered with flattened pieces of horse dung.  I'm having trouble going as fast as I want and soon I'm running with my hands as well, scrambling up a steed slope and pulling out chunks of asphalt with my hands.
I'm washes dishes.  There's a bunch of white plastic measuring spoons, many more than would be on a regular bunch.  It looks like a bouquet.
I've gotten in the habit of just writing down little reminders in a notebook and planning to post later.  The reminders are not enough. For this entry, I also put down the following: "All the men died--mourning--back acne" but now I have no idea what I was dreaming.  I have to put down the whole description and mood otherwise stuff just disappears.  If I describe it carefully I can remember it, but otherwise no.  Kind of frustrating.  Why does it require so much detail when something that happened in waking life would only need a few words to recall?
I seem to be having a lot of shopping dreams lately.  They are usually both pleasurable and anxious.  Might it have something to do with how I think of myself as looking?  They are often very specific and sensual, with the pieces of cloth being the most vivid part of the dream.  
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