  I slept longer than two hours without meds! Tomorrow, I conquer the world! No news or excitement today, it's bloody hot and humid and sticky and raining on top of all that, no relief to be had.
But the heat humidity and so on and so forth might be responsible for my excessive sleeping, so giddyap. Had a dream in the form of eavesdropping this evening. I was in the head of a native girl who was widowed, at a sort of memorial service, a year or so after her husband's death.
She's not all that welcomed there, she's only half native, and there appears to be something else going on, as well. There's a man there she knows, Johnny Stormcrow, who was her husband's friend. Johnny and the husband are quite a few years older than she was. She sees a man there, about her age, and he takes her hand when everyone came together for a circle.
On the other side, there's a woman who hates her, and wouldn't take her hand. People chuckle at her, and she pulls away, and boots on out of there. I got out of her head for a minute, and the fellow who was holding her hand speaks briefly to Johnny. Johnny tells him to follow the girl, he agrees; he was going to anyhow - he's facsinated by her. This guy happens to be Johnny's son, Johnny Jr. Basically he catches up to her and follows her home, and they tell each other stories.
They're kinda sorta falling in love I guess, and I woke up just as they were on the outskirts of the reservation, close to her place. I know a few other things about her - she married into the reservation, so she's an outsider, and the man she married was extremely popular, I reckon the girl stole him away as seen by the girls in the reservation. So where the hell did THAT one come from? Good story, i think, anyhow...I want to write it out. And, speaking of writing, Kurt reallllllllllly wants me to write about Paul's place, and all the crazy that went down there. My grandmother, paul's sister is coming to visit, and i know she can tell me more about the house and its stories.
It's funny, i made the decision to 'be more of a writer', and at least three stories plop in my lap. Now, the only thing is to get the disipline to write every day. Yeah, I write here, but i think that uses a different part of my brain. 
