I’ve gotten better at driving away bad dreams, but they occasionally can come back if something triggers them.  Let me tell you, trying to get ready for the Armistice Day Ball is definitely a trigger.  Putting up with my mother and her balls and parties are some of the worst memories I have from that part of my life, especially the last one I went to.

Though I have to admit it’s quite different when I’m the one in charge. I’m making the decisions instead of having someone else tell me what to do, where to go, and what to wear.  I find myself automatically thinking about whom I should talk with to help keep things smooth and wondering what I should know about them.  I’m starting to think I owe Ma a little bit of an apology.  She really did try to get me involved with the planning and taught me some useful things… I just wasn’t very enthusiastic about her endgame.  When it comes to the AAMS, however, I guess actually caring about the goal helps.



Still doesn’t stop the occasional nightmare.  This one was particularly interesting.  Started out like a pretty standard nightmare.  I was standing in front of the Ball crowd, but couldn’t remember the speech I’m supposed to give, mainly since I haven’t even written it yet.  I started to panic.

Then I realized I haven’t gotten a dress either and wondered what I was wearing.  I looked down and it was one of the awful skimpy things Mormel’s tried to get me to wear.  I’m just grateful it wasn’t made out of spaghetti or something.

That’s when I realized I was dreaming.  Several of the self-help books I’ve got lying around have sections on lucid dreaming to help conquer fears.  So I tried to imagine myself in a nice dress.

Didn’t quite work the way I hoped.  First dress that came to mind was one from home, from the last party there.  Wasn’t even a dress I particularly liked, as Ma picked it out. Worse, I suddenly felt Waxworth’s arms around my shoulders, telling me to relax.  The tips of his fingers burned into my skin.

But this was my dream.  So I shoved him away, shoved him hard enough to fall off a balcony that seemed to appear just for that purpose.  I felt a bit sick in my stomach for a moment... but then reminded myself it’s only a dream.  Not like he's actually hurt or I’m going to owe him even more money. 
 
So I think I’m just going to relish this particular dream a bit longer.