I dreamed last night about the time Beverly Coyle gave me a Rat wig and a kazoo and bade me serenade you with Eine kleine Nachtmusik, maybe for a birthday? We talked about German Expressionism, and there was a a malamute and possibly a pony? (Or the pony might be dream editorializing??) It was the only interesting evening I ever had in my brief sojourn at Vassar College finishing school for Reagan Youth, and I’d forgotten it until the dream.
Cheers,
mandy
It was probably Halloween. Beverly Coyle must have been one of the few fun teachers at Vassar--the ones I remember seeing were all swathed in tweeds, and looking like the 1930s. I had nothing to do with the institution, and appreciate it's probably different now. (disclaimer)
