sigh

[dragonlady7]

Well, Dad just e-mailed to explain that he's giving up on my car. The brake lines can't be removed without taking out the gas tank. The gas tank is fastened in place by some rusty bolts that will probably break. And then, once they've been broken and need replacement, comes the killer: the fuel lines are slightly rusty and will probably break.
So...
No fixing of Voyager, at least not now.

So, I am now in the market for a brand new used car. I'm also considering leasing one. We'll see.

This is where I sort of butt up against the problem that neither Dave nor I has any concrete plans beyond January. We have no lease; we're just living here. We have no commitments. Neither of us have jobs. (Though I'm trying to find a temporary one.)
He will finish school in January or December. And then? Well?
He'll probably look for a job. As will I. I'm also perpetually considering going back to school. I would dearly love to be an English professor of some sort, really I would. But I need to decide. As in all things, i am interested in far far too much-- hence the five novels in progress, hence the eight art projects unfinished, hence the perpetual hedging of bets. I have never, in my entire life, been able to commit to just one thing I was interested enough. I would love to study any one of about fifteen things. I majored in English simply because the number of classes I took and enjoyed were overwhelmingly in the English department, or were cross-listed with the English department so I could get credits to graduate from them. (I entered as a history major, but hated all my history classes.)

So, I simply don't know what to do with my life, and thus don't know what to look for in a car, whether a short-term lease would answer or whether that would leave me in the lurch when I have to give the damn car back.

more: unrelated, a dream I had.

I had a vivid and explicit erotic dream the other night, in which I was actually me and Dave was actually Dave, which is pretty much unprecedented in my dreaming career-- dreams about sex are never coherent, I am never me, other people are never other people.
The extenuating circumstances made no sense, but the general plot was, I suppose, that Dave and I had decided that we were married (note: not decided to get married, but decided we were already. That's more like my dreams usually are, i.e. not making a whole lot of sense), and the erotic part was celebratory. Go figure; it was certainly not an unpleasant dream, but was confusing for its lack of confusingness. Additionally, we were in a beige hotel room, and one of Dave's friends was apparently present, which we forgot about until we were done, and I was like "sorry, dude," and he was like, "shrug".

I spose that wasn't entirely unrelated; perhaps my subconscious is reminding me that it's not that I have no commitments in my life, and perhaps I should look upon Dave as some sort of a commitment. But, y'know, my subconscious never has been one to give me accurate and coherent messages that have any bearing on reality, so I would do well to simply say "duh" and go back to sleep. Duh, Dave's the Best Roommate Ever (even though his doing-of-dishes leaves something to be desired). I would do well to keep Best Roommate Ever in my plans. But not the sort of plans that necessitate me losing weight to fit into some ridiculous white dress and spending $15k to throw a party for my friends so they can give me housewares and gag gifts, and I can change my name to... well, a last name that takes up the entire signature line by itself. Hm. No: my subconscious is a goddamn genius. Forget the white dress and the taking up the whole signature line-- just shag like rabbits!