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Memores acti prudentes futuri

Shown to the place you fold
there's nothing to be without it
A few words
"When we describe the Moon as dead, we are describing the deadness in ourselves. When we find space so hideously void, we are describing our own unbearable emptiness."
~ D.H. Lawrence

"Is the meaning of life defined by its duration? Or does life have a purpose so large that it doesn't have to be prolonged at any cost to preserve its meaning?"

"Living is not good, but living well. The wise man, therefore, lives as well as he should, not as long as he can... He will always think of life in terms of quality not quantity... Dying early or late is of no relevance, dying well or ill is... even if it is true that while there is life there is hope, life is not to be bought at any cost."
~ Seneca

"People will tell you nothing matters, the whole world's about to end soon anyway. Those people are looking at life the wrong way. I mean, things don't need to last forever to be perfect."
~ Daydream Nation

"All Bette's stories have happy endings. That's because she knows where to stop. She's realized the real problem with stories-- if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death."
~ The Sandman: Preludes & Nocturnes

"The road now stretched across open country, and it occurred to me - not by way of protest, not as a symbol, or anything like that, but merely as a novel experience - that since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good. It was a pleasant diaphragmal melting, with elements of diffused tactility, all this enhanced by the thought that nothing could be nearer to the elimination of basic physical laws than deliberately driving on the wrong site of the road."
~ Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."
~ William Blake
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dead winter (has some explicit stuff)
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A Fine Example
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Jinxed it
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Well, I didn't remember my dream today (but I know I had one), so I guess I broke my streak. Dangit. X|

It's raining like the dickens.... I think that might be related to this mysterious case of bedhead I have right now. I mean, I guess it's not technically bedhead if it didn't come from a bed, but I certainly LOOK like I just woke up (in the good way).

Or maybe I have self-tousling hair! :0

I don't even know. Man, I'm sleepy.

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(How often does THAT happen?)
Friday, November 19, 2010
This "remembering at least part of my dream from the previous night" thing continues, as it has for awhile now. I like it, although I do wonder if it's affecting my ability to recall each individual dream. Without as long of a break in between new dreams, I don't think about each one quite as much and it doesn't get as committed to memory.

I was about to give up on the shampoo bars, because it didn't seem like they kept my hair clean enough, but I think I was just not using the ones that were good for my hair type. I tried the Chamomile & Citrus sample bar yesterday, and my hair is still clean right now (yay). I've also heard good things about Cafe Moreno, but I didn't get a sample of that, so maybe another time. Here's a link to the shampoo bar page, in case anybody is interested and doesn't feel like going through my old entries to find the last time I linked Chagrin Valley: CLICKIES

Yesterday Alice and I were discussing my future. She thinks that my future fiancé, who will be the heir to a hover car company but who won't want to run it because he doesn't like cars, is lame. I personally think that if he wants to run a bakery that uses organic local ingredients, then good for him because I find that admirable. But noooooo, Alice was like, "he has no ambition!" Psh, enough ambition for me. As long as we're not horrifyingly poor and can afford a nice thing now and then (and send our kids to college), it's all good.

Something that was in my dream last night:

I wanted to drink something, so I grabbed one of the giant leaves on stalks in this white bucket. The idea was that I would pour the liquid down the leaf and into my mouth, I guess. Unfortunately the one I got wasn't clean. It was dusty and had these huge bugs on it. (The leaves were about two feet long, so think about how big the bugs would have been) I got grossed out, but whoever was in the room with me at the time said they were just fireflies and it wasn't a big deal. (For the record, they looked like really huge cockroaches with some exotic design on their backs)

There was a lot more of the dream, but I don't remember all the connecting details...

Yesterday I just had a mix of confusing snapshots:
"Talking beaver chasing us... it had a dam with hardwood floors"
"We stapled a frog to a tree. It was wearing pants."
"Everyone said I was lucky because I had Monopoly money Microsoft stocks and they were worth millions of dollars."

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I remember now
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
I was in a Target, looking at dresses, and I'd picked a red one and a green one out to try on. The store blacked out for awhile, and I had to feel my way through the racks. When I went to the fitting room it turned out to be an enormous filthy public restroom, with the stalls rising only about three and a half feet. I was trying to decide which stall was cleanest when my mom told me that we were staying at my cousin's house.

My cousin's house was apparently a quarry of some sort. A large rectangular hole in the ground, with a single dirt pathway leading down. I sat on my sleeping bag and watched my cousin and her mother fight, and people came and went and I did nothing but look. I'm not sure what happened then.

After that I was in a girl's house. I guess she was my friend. She was taking care of a baby for someone she knew, and she told me I could go look. The baby was lying on the carpet under a table. I picked it put and held it against my bare chest, since I apparently had no shirt. It looked at me. I asked how old it was, and she said "98 months."

That didn't seem right. I stared at her in shock, thinking that this baby was over three years old. (I never have very good math skills in my dreams) I carried him over to my couch and sat down with him on my lap, confused. We discussed his destiny.

Many creatures were going to get some sort of special disease or curse/calling, and he was going to get it as well and murder us all, or lead the creatures to. Either way, it wasn't looking good.

When she finished telling me the story I looked down. The baby had grown into a teenager, who grinned at me. He looked the same age as me, but I said he looked at least fourteen. (I am not sure what it is about numbers but they are rarely correct when I'm dreaming) I remembered that I'd just had the baby's head against my bare bosom not long ago and felt slightly embarrassed.

Then I was seeing the seaside cave where the disease and/or magical happening was taking place, and I was thinking of how we would be killed. I thought about the no-longer-baby and how he grinned at me. It was the kind of grin that says "we've got a secret, you and me."

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Wasn't that long ago
Sunday, November 14, 2010
I don't actually like this song so much, but I like what it's about.

I was thinking about The Simpsons Movie. You guys remember that, right? If you've seen it you'll know what I'm talking about. If not...


That part where Homer has his epiphany about not caring about other people because he doesn't care about himself?


It seems relevant, although in this case I don't know if it's really an "epiphany" per se. More like something that just doesn't get paid a lot of attention.

I am starting to realize I find it despicable when people aren't willing to improve themselves. Not in terms of losing weight or anything physical, but just personality characteristics. If you can control anything, you should be able to control that, even if it takes time.

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The bad choice
Friday, November 12, 2010
I'm holding back too much, I think.

Damn my sensitivities. Or is it niceness? I just can't kick someone when they're down unless they're my brother.


I'm starting to feel like I need to compile some sort of list of qualities I want in my next boyfriend. In reality, the next guy I date will probably be generally unattractive to me but okay looking otherwise, and I will probably be able to do better than him. I'm guessing two bad relationships isn't the magical number I need to learn. If there's one thing that fairy tales taught me besides sexism and passivity, it's that three is the most important number in the history of everything ever.

So yeah, one more bad relationship and then maybe I'll start looking for someone who seems like they'd sing along to Beatles songs with me or something. If he doesn't know that many Beatles songs we can sing along to Hot Chocolate's "I Believe in Miracles". It's all cool as long as we don't drag out anything from the opera.

And maybe we'll get bored and decide to bake something but forget to add salt, so it tastes weird, but it'll be okay because we had fun together and that's what really matters.


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More dreaming
Monday, November 8, 2010
I dreamt I was walking along a sunny sidewalk in a deserted suburban neighborhood.

I needed an umbrella.

There was a store at the end of a path bordered by gardens, so I went inside to look for umbrellas. I saw a lot of cheap ones so I tried to find one that would last longer. There was a sign with the brand name "Unbreakable" on it, with some umbrellas in a basket. I took one and paid for it.

The cashier gave me a five dollar bill as my change.

I glanced around at the rest of the store, whose stocks had become import materials while I was occupied with paying for my item. Nothing looked very interesting, so I walked through the next room and out onto a sunny patio.

There were a few people seated at the round metal tables outside. Suddenly I saw a dollar bill being blown around, and made to catch it. Over and over again it eluded my grasp as it flew from ground to rafter to tabletop to chair, swirling as it went. It changed from a single dollar to a five, then a hundred, then a hundred thousand dollar bill. The five had Billy Mays's face instead of Abraham Lincoln's.

Finally I caught the bill, which had gone through many changes but stuck to being worth five dollars when it touched my fingertips. It had a picture of a smug comic-esque cowboy holding a gun. I got the impression that it had purposely been toying with me.

I went back inside and the shop was in New York. The ceiling was very high, and seemed to be selling dried fruit. Casey came in and we exchanged words of our delight and surprise at seeing each other there. I asked how she was doing, and she gave me details about her life and cooking and apartments. I had nothing to respond with.

We were going to leave, I think, but I woke up.


I think my conscious thoughts have been bleeding into my dreams lately, in a more noticeable manner than usual.

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Thursday and Friday, in short
Saturday, November 6, 2010

I went to school an hour early to check out the club expo, which turned out to be... pretty small. There weren't any clubs I wanted to join so I signed up to be a marrow donor at the booth that was there instead...

I won't lie; I was somewhat inspired after reading Zanzibar's entry about the same thing. One of the guys at the booth gave me a little speech about saving children's lives, but it wasn't really necessary since I wanted to sign up anyway.

I also made a friend in class, I think/hope... And my friend with Crohn's Disease got out of the hospital/received the picture Alice and I drew for him.

Oh, lastly, the Mexican club or whatever had a bunch of people dancing around in feather headdresses and stuff and for some reason it made me super emotional. I'm gonna blame girl hormones for this one. Man, sometimes I really wish my ovaries had faces so I could punch them there.


Worked with Alice more on our project... I had really envisioned it as a small little thing we would just do for fun, but it seems to be getting bigger and bigger. X| The collaboration is helping me learn how to explain things I've always known intuitively, so that's good. When we get some more done I might post a few pictures... we'll see.


Do you know how a lost heart fears
The thought of reminiscing
And how lips that taste of tears
Lose their taste for kissing?

You don't know how hearts burn
For love that cannot live yet never dies
Until you've faced each dawn with sleepless eyes
You don't know what love is

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Tiny glass knives
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Did I just quote a flash cartoon in my title? Why yes, yes I did.

I rolled my bike out of the garage today and set up the kickstand on the sidewalk, then ran into the garage to hit the switch that closes the garage door. Ran out again to discover my bike on its side. I guess it was the angle it was at or something that made it fall over...

Anyway, my glass water bottle, which was on the side of my messenger bag (which was in the basket on the side the bike fell on), shattered. Really, really shattered. It got cold water all over the sidewalk, as well as fun little shards of glass in my water bottle pocket. :/

I didn't want to go to school with a pretty badly smashed water bottle (which could double as a weapon...) so I tried to empty the pieces into the trash bin. Since the top of the pocket has elastic on it, that didn't work. I then tried to pick up the big pieces and throw them out, in the hopes that the small ones were just being blocked by their larger counterparts. This I did with my bare hands.

Lemme tell ya folks, your parents were right when they told you not to handle broken glass with your bare hands. I didn't get majorly slashed open or anything, but some of the little tiny bits stuck in my left hand and I had to pick them out. (When I say tiny I mean like, "pencil lead" tiny. Not "sunflower seed" tiny.)

I was in a bit of a hurry to get to class, so this whole episode lasted about... oh... five minutes? I was a little bummed about it because it meant I had no cold water to drink when I got to class, and now I need to get a new water bottle in general.

Otherwise though, my day has been fairly okay I guess. Class was uneventful unless you count being mildly frightened by a cockroach when we were doing a group discussion. I went to the counseling center to talk about transferring, and after talking a bit my counselor told me to go see what English classes I was eligible for over at Testing. Well, I went there and the woman told me that if I didn't know what English classes I wanted to take they couldn't help me, and she didn't know why the counselors kept sending students over with that problem. X|

It's all fine though. This will get worked out.

And now... I have to read for Children's Lit. Yayyyyyy...

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