Dream Journal Entry
Mood:  happy
Topic: Writing
I had a dream this morning with Holly Prado in it. She was my poetry thesis advisor for my Master's at the University of Southern California. And this morning, she was in my kitchen, settling herself at my kitchen table (actually, it was the kitchen from the last house, because here, my kitchen table is in the dining room) and reading two essays I handed her before getting down to discussing the fistful of poems I had scrounged out of the pantry to show her. This is, of course, an unusual dream because Holly lives in SoCal and her students visit her at her house, not the other way around. When she put the essays down, she became a man about my age who looked something like a mix between Richard Marx and Michael, the gorgeous boy I asked out thinking he'd been sent to USC specifically for me but with whom it became painfully obvious I had absolutely nothing in common. He was excited about one of the essays (not so much about the other one), and Holly/Richard/Michael asked, "So, have you decided you're a writer yet?"

To read one of Holly's poems from her latest book of collected works, These Mirrors Prove It, visit www.cahuengapress.com/prado3.htm or click here to read her bio. Sorry, no pictures of Michael to show you, but you can find Richard Marx easily enough.