eleneariel: (reading (english))
I come bearing two more additions to my list of favorite words:

celebratory and venue

Last night all my dreams centered around running red lights. o_O

eleneariel: (library)
Last night I dreamed a library was burning.
eleneariel: (rincewind)
I dreamed about awful things, like my parent's bodies being taken over by evil green-faced alien monsters, but I didn't realize how bad it was until I woke up and found myself with a bloody lip. Apparently I tried to bite through it in my sleep.

eleneariel: (Default)
* Unusually, I have had dreams every night this week. All but one has been bad, and most of those bad ones have centered around library things, particularly irate patrons (including one who told me that my clothes were too revealing, at which point my dream-self threatened to sue her for sexual harrassment.) I regard this with interest and slight amusement.

* Chatty, the little black kitten, has taken to propelling herself up as if by jet power and latching onto the window screens with all the force of velcro. I should discourage her (read: squirt her with water), but she just looks so darn cute staring in at me with all four legs splayed out and her little nose pressed to the screen.

* Hagen loves having the windows open. He sits on the sills and meows at nothing. For hours.

* I thought I didn't have anything to say this morning, but I'm doing pretty well so far?

* A few days ago the weather changed -- bye bye to humidity and heat! It's been dry and mild ever since. The changing of the seasons isn't usually this dramatic ... I like to ease into fall gradually, I think. But it's still beautiful.

* It's time to go to work. I'm glad it's Friday. :) Maybe now the library-mares will stop!

with haste

Oct. 19th, 2006 10:32 am
eleneariel: (dream)
Last night I dreamed that [livejournal.com profile] patrick___'s father kept emailing me, but I couldn't figure out if they were spam emails or real ones. I spent the whole dream trying to figure out a nice way to ask.

(I'll be very creeped out if I find that your dad's name is really Scott. Or that he's a spammer.)

I am venturing into new territory and wearing knee high boots with a not-very-much-longer wool skirt. It feels faintly daring, but it's warm and that is Good, for the misty rain outside imparts less of a feeling of wetness than one of tiny, cold needles jabbing the skin.


Sep. 6th, 2006 07:04 pm
eleneariel: (blue lady)
It's always awkward to see a person I dreamed about the night before. Particularly when I despise yet am half afraid of said person, and the dream involved me chasing him with a gun and hordes of policemen attempting to arrest him at my request. 

That was one of those too-real dreams I'd be happy to be rid of.
eleneariel: (blue lady)
Today started badly because I had a bad dream right before I woke up. You'll laugh (maybe) at my definition of "bad dream": I was visiting a woman who had a large book collection, and I found some that I really wanted to read. "May I borrow these books?" I asked her. She looked at me blankly, and I asked, "You do lend your books, don't you?" Until then it had never occurred to me that someone would horde such a massive collection and refuse to let them be read. But she wouldn't lend them, and I felt slighted indeed and stupid for asking and determined I'd never lend her any of my books! And so I shan't, dream-woman or no.

I got up early and ate breakfast: egg in a hole. Does anybody know what that is? It's good and easy (although there's always this point in the middle of the egg-making process where I wonder, why am I don't this? I don't even LIKE eggs, anyway. Then it eat it and it's okay.) I like it and I think it'll be a staple in this new breakfast-eating habit. But I remember now why I stayed away from breakfast on Mondays: I leave for work those days at 11:30. I'm not hungry for lunch if I eat breakfast. We'll have to rethink this.

Other things that have no bearing here went wrong, but all was redeemed when I went by the jewelers and found out that my favorite bracelet (which I accidentally broke last week) could and indeed was fixed.

[livejournal.com profile] alissamarie, did you know that both The Devil Wears Prada and The Nanny Diaries are being made into movies? I'm not sure how well they'll translate into cinema...but it could be interesting. =)

I'm late to the game, but if anybody hasn't heard about [livejournal.com profile] aftondays's latest photo contest, it's HERE and voting ends Wednesday.


Aug. 26th, 2005 09:07 am
eleneariel: (dream)
Last night all my dreams took place in elementary schools. Which is really odd, considering that until yesterday (when I spent ten minutes walking through one to return a book to the school library), I had never been inside an elementary school in my life.

Edit: I've been meaning to mention that last week I got the two rings I ordered from Silver Jewelry Club--and they are beautiful, high qualitie, and well worth the shipping. =) I love them!
eleneariel: (swinging)
After almost a solid week of dream-ful nights ranging from the mildly disturbing to the Downright Freaky and Upsetting, I finally had a wonderful, happy, very much loved dream. I was so mad when my alarm clock rang in the middle of it; I was just getting to the good part!

I was upset last night; today is quite euphoric. (Without much good reason, too, isn't it wonderful?) Changes are happening, I'm busy at work which I enjoy, church is tonight, I see Hannah tomorrow, and it's raining the most lovely kind of rain. If I didn't have to be in the public eye all day I'd run out and stand in the rain and get soaked and hang the perfectly-curled hair.

I just loaned my umbrella to a random stranger. Which is strange of me, but oddly freeing.
eleneariel: (hope)
I had a marvelous, glorious weekend, which I won't actually describe because describing it wouldn't convey just how marvelous and glorious it was. But I was in the presence--close presence--of greatness, and it filled my heart with dreams. Saturday I was one face in a crowd of 20,000; I listened to the Truth spoken, and Beauty sung, while lying on a blanket on a hillside under the stars. Sunday I sat within three yards of the five talented people who every September give me the best evening of my year. I know their stories and their faces and the very inflections in their voices, and each one becomes a dream that I carry with me. I go home with the beat in my head and it lasts until the next year, making me better and higher. All day I've been singing and dreaming.

Dreaming. I seem to dream a lot. Sometimes I wonder if I'll wake up at the end of my life and realize I've never really lived, only drempt, but these are such beautiful things that I can't give them up. In my heart I'm confident I'm really living. And part of my living is dreaming.

And the one who actually knows what I did this weekend probably will be confused at how I described this, but emotions don't always correspond with the actual event. Or something.

"He's the oldest new member of the group, and if anyone can figure out what I mean, let me know."
eleneariel: (light)
I'm so happy to have more then three icons again. =D I could not resist LiveJournal's offer of an extra two months if you bought a year's paid account: and so I did, with a little technical help from [livejournal.com profile] savetheolives, who once again has come to my rescue, brandishing her always-on internet connection.

(After all, she'll be here in about ten days, so I have say nice things about her, on the off chance she'll change her mind and take a flight to Italy instead.)

So I've made a whole lot of new ones and picked the best; I've resurrected my Hope icon, although thankfully I don't feel the need for it as much as I did in the anxiety-laden days which I devoutly pray are gone; and I even borrowed (or stole, depending on how you look at it) a Sicily icon from [livejournal.com profile] savetheolives, which I think I will use mostly on posts where I rant about Things.

Parenthetical note, without the parenthsis: my favorites, I think, are the East of the Moon and West of the Sun icons. I read one of Tolkien's earliest poems, where the beginnings of the Silmarillion are faintly seen, and fell in love with the first few lines:

East of the Moon, west of the Sun
There stands a lonely hill;
Its feet are in the pale green sea,
Its towers are white and still,
Beyond Taniquetil
In Valinor.

So now I have a paid account for a year and two months. It seems strange to think of it as being that long. In 14 months I'll be 21. In 14 months I could be...living somewhere else. My life could be entirely different. It's all very odd to think about.

But instead of looking forward, today I'm looking back. Today is the six month anniversary of when I started this job. how my life has changed )

Last night I had a dream. Every so often I have one of those very intense, vivid dreams, and I wake up thinking it really happened. The mood of those dreams follow me for days, sometimes. I've been frightened to death by some of them. But this one....this one was beautiful. Someone told me some of the sweetest words I think I could ever hear, and made me feel so wonderful. I woke up full of joy--even after the momentary disappointment when I realized it was only a dream. I've spent the day floating on air, feeling beautiful and loved, and I'm not sure even yet that it didn't really happen. I hope, I pray, that someday it will be Real. If a dream can do this to me, what must the reality be like!
eleneariel: (Default)

Confession time. I bought eight more books the other day from the library's discard pile. My mother nearly had a fit. =) Only about a month ago I moved a second bookshelf in my room and it's nearly full already.....but these were such loverly books, and so cheap! Got several by Elizabeth Borton el TreviƱo (never read her, but they look all right), one about Alexander the Great, Bride of Lammermoor (Sir Walter Scott), Doctor Thorne (Trollope) and three other sort of incidental ones. I wish I just had the time to read them now! I must have twenty I've bought that I haven't ever read. It's very sad. But I have been reading ever so many that I borrowed from the library, and I'm reading the Silmarillion again (third time!).....

Well, must get back to painting the cabnets in the kitchen. I'm doing the inside in a lovely dark/bright blue....very New-England-Cape-House-ey.

Life is funny. Life can be VERY funny when my mom's in a good mood.

Yesterday she answered the phone in German.

It was a black telemarketer. (Yes, you can often tell this through the phonelines) This completely flummuxed him...COMPLETELY. We've decided this is the way to get rid of unwanted calls from now on. She'll bombard them with German and I'll try to sound like a native of Mexico City. (Let's just hope I don't happen to pick up on a telemarketer that actually *is* a native of Mexico City.)

If that fails, I plan to speak to them in Old English. Probably this will confuse them more then the Spanish will. (Forsooth, methinks thy phone line crackleth. Many pardons do I beg for my rudness in hangth-ing up on thou!)

I'm looking over my List of Books Read for the last two years. Pretty interesting, I'd forgotten about some of these. Like the Rex Stout books--I started reading those when Rush Limbaugh recommended them. I should pick up one again. I also noticed I tend to go in cycles....a string of John Grisham books, then Lillian Jackson Braun (The Cat Who Played Brahms, The Cat Who Could Read Backwards, THe Cat Who Went Underground, The Cat Who Ate Danish Modern, etc.) Then there's the Jean Plaidy books, which I remember fondly. Good old historical fiction. Er, not historical fiction. Whatdaya call it? When they write novels about historical events and people. THEN there was the Mafia string of books, which I can explain in that I was researching for a term paper. They were also very interesting, but not for the....ah....squeamish.

And I re-read a lot of my childhood favorites. All the Pooh books, Paddington books, Mary Poppins, Five Little Peppers, The Lion's Paw, the Secret Garden, The Little Princess...

And there was the humor phase. Robert Benchly, Clarence Day, Will Rogers....Then the science fiction phase, with the Foundation Trilogy and various Star Wars and Star Trek books. (Gotta read Heir to the Empire again, just cause Timothy Zhan is such an awsome writer). And after that the Daphne du Maurier string of books, which are (mostly) magnificent.

And then Poe. No more needs be said. =) I stayed in a happy state of depression and horror for several weeks.

Oh! The Olive Oil Companion! Marvelous book, that. And the Van Cliburn Ledgend (Abram Chassins). And all of the Joan Aiken books--and The Spy Wore Red and The Spy Went Dancing, both by Aline, Countess of Romanones. (True stories of her career in espiange during WWII). And the Father Brown stories of G. K. Chesterton (recommended by Quinton).

Arrrgggghhh. I want the time to read the ALL AGAIN!

Uhh.....Life. Is....Not easy. Got possible bad news today about the health of (another) grandparent. I'm grateful that they're all old and ready to die, but it's like, how much more can I handle? It's now within the realm of possibility that all four may die within a year and a half of each other.

On to other things. You know, I feel that I'm very boring here in LJ world. I have so little excitment to write about. Lol.


I'm tired. And I have a headache. I should go to bed, but I guess I'll take a little time to relate my growing experience of the day....

Namely, that I drove my dad's truck. We were going somewhere together this afternoon and he just said, "How about you driving?" This is...amazing. I didn't like it much, actually. The only thing I've ever driven is the little car, which I zip around in. Going from it to this was freaky. For one thing, it's a man-sized truck and I'm on the verge of being a little bitty thing of a girl...er, woman. I had to sit on the edge of the seat, and I couldn't even begin to see out of the rearview mirror. It *did* give a feeling of power, though. ; )


Haven't written for a while, partly because life was boring in the things I'd share here, and I was busy. I need to unwind now, though, and I don't feel like taking the time to write in longhand in my personal diary. It's so sloooow now that I'm used to typing. =P

This afternoon I cooked. All afternoon. It was splendid fun--had the house to myself (well, mostly) so I turned up the oldies station and had a blast. Somehow, music from the 60s is what's fits me most when I cook. I made a couple loaves of French bread, the cake part of the Boston Cream Pie, and a cranberry salad. This is all for my dinner tomorrow, in honor of Valentines day and my parents 22nd anniversary. We're going to have a nice, elegant, cultured dinner. Candlelight, china, the whole deal. I like this sort of thing, especially as it's a capital excuse for more elaberate preparation for the food then normal. Silly me, but fancy food tastes twice as good.

Oh, and I'm making ravioli. =D No one has had ravioli until they've tried mine! I die of happyness everytime I eat it. Too bad it takes so long to make.

I'd better stop talking about food. I can hear a certain person muttering about being "too Italian" as they read this. =D

I've been busy with other stuff, too. Worked two days last week, made lots of money, agreed to clean Debbie's house occasionally.....everyone that knows me at all will laugh at this, but just because I'm not a totally *neat* person doesn't mean I can't clean decently. **shrug** Hey,it's not my favorite thing, but I'll do it for the money. Well, you know, I kinda like that green stuff. It buys a lot of books, mmm?

Even though I've been busy, I'm making time to re-read the Emerald Ballad series. I think those are the books that started my Ireland craze (which has abated to some extent, but will never be entirely extingued, me thinks). I used to read them every few months, seriously. It's probably been about two years since my last reading, though. It's a little odd going back to them after this much time. I feel almost tratorous that now I'm noticing all these flaws with the writing. **sigh** Darn, being a writer isn't that great if it makes you stop just enjoying a story!
Anyway. This time they're sort of randomly making me cry. I don't know why....I've read them so many times and I don't think I ever cried before. Somehow reading about the fall of Morgan Fitzgerald just really made the tears well up. Maybe my hormones are just wackey or I'm too stressed about other stuff.

Sometimes I wish I was a kid again, just because I never worried about stuff. It seems that ever since I've started to really feel and (mostly) act like an adult life has been full of pain and trouble and worry. Or maybe that's what made me an adult, who knows. Cavolo! CavolocavolocavoloCAVOLO!

(Note: for the uninformed, this is Marie-speak for...well, actually it's Italian for "cabbage". It's an expression of...disgust.)

2/14 Memories and other things

To quote the words of the wonderful Bethwen, long, long ago in the Hobbit Hole: "When will the one true guy ever come?!" It's true, the older I get the more I wonder. ; ) Valentines days do of course bring this out more.

I just browsed through some old entries in my 'real' diary. I don't do this very often. It usually makes me depressed and sad. I'm not known for putting my happy thoughs on paper very often. But I found a few interesting things I'd forgotten: like the time I got mistaken for a mannequin. For about two years I worked for a woman who had a moble clothing store. She and I hauled a trailer full of clothing to all sorts of nursing homes, etc. so that people who couldn't get out themselves could have a place to shop. We would haul in twenty some racks and set them up; once that was done there was often nothing much to do until people started getting done shopping. One day, while I was just leaning quietly against a wall, waiting for when I was needed, this nicely dressed little old lady came walking by me. She peered closely at me, so I smiled at her...and she jumped and said, "You scared me! I thought you were a mannequin and I was looking at your clothes and jewelry and then you *moved*!"

I also have recorded quite a number of very vivid dreams. I still get them occasionally--the kind that when I wake up, I have to ask myself "was this a dream, or did it really happen?" They are so extrordinarily real. Mostly they're happy dreams, but there have been a few that have kept me in terror and fear for weeks. (Say what you will, a dream like that isn't easily dismissed.) They can be about the oddest things...one featured a guy who looked just like Joe Montagne--if that's how you spell his last name. I always think of him as a gangster (thus the attraction to him) although I only saw a very little bit of The Last Don, where he *played* a gangster. I did see all of Airspeed, which he's in as a non-gangster type, but that was at 3:00 in the morning and it was a pretty pitiful movie even for that time of night.

Another dream was the shocking one of my friend Quinton, who's very dark haired, showing up in a bookshop where I was buying Tolkien books with his hair dyed blond. A la the short lived hair style of Tiger Woods.

I also found the memory of the Bible School I helped with two or three years ago, the one for inner-city poor kids...who could forget the sweet little Ryan, shyly whispering, "I've never done this before!" and kissing my cheek. That's the kind of memory that makes me doubly ready to scoop up all the unloved, unwanted, abandoned kids in the world and adopt them all. I'd start with little Sarah Elizabeth, if I could. She's been with the a couple a church, a short-term foster family, for several months now. She's gained so much weight, it's amazing. Before they got her, she was in the hospital for a month due to malnutrition....ie, being starved almost to death. That makes me want to both adopt all kids like her AND do some severe bodily harm to the so called 'parents' who could do that to their kid.


Strange how certain days stick in your memory. Sept. 11, of course, but smaller things as well. The day I found out that Rush had gone deaf. Chris (AKA the Book Guy)'s wedding. The 12 incredibly uncomfortable hours at the Relatives. When Marty told me he thought I was a woman with uncommonly deep thoughts behind my reserved attitude. (Had a good laugh over that one.) Yes, the night that the computer was reformatted, and the meal shared, the topics discussed (who knew?). The time Sarah surprised me by showing up at church totally unannouced and made me scream...The day I brought my laptop home. The night I realized I loved performing in song...the day I met the Italian men of Red Wine! And the day I opened the picture packet and realized that, if only for the moment of that picture, I was beautiful.

I'm feeling suddenly disatisfied with my life. (I'm sure it's only a momentary thing, but it makes me think.) I've always been the type of person who said "I don't need anyone else" but the fact is, I do. I HATE saying that, but I do. I have three of the greatest close friends ever, and one that I wouldn't part with for anything, but they all live hundreds of miles away, and I need social friends, too. People HERE, to do inconsiquential things together. I have my deep friends, my real friends, but suddenly I just want some people to hang out with.

....Like that's gonna happen. Lol. I'm just odd enough that people don't really like/understand me much unless they're the type that develop into those deep friends. All the same, I'm thinking of getting into some activities or something. The fact is, I don't know that many people aside from church (who are siblings in Christ but NOT my "kind of people," amazingly!). I have interesting relationships with my librarians and bookstore owner, but beyond that...

So I'm thinking. I've been wanting to join the Community Choir for a while--I'd love another place to sing. Love LOVE to sing. And I'm going to ask if the library sponsers or knows of any writing groups around this area. I kind of doubt there are any I'd fit into, but you never know.

This all means I should hurry up and get my drivers licence so I can get myself places without help. =P I could have months ago, but I want to be really, really good and comfortable first. The idea of driving with the ex-cop instructer without knowing precisly what I'm doing kind of freaks me out. I've been driving with a permit (and parents) for...well, since September.

I've finally added to my interests. Enjoy. Lol. =D

July 2011

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