I woke up and was mostly functional (surprising), but was obsessed with finding my St. Nicholas necklace; it was not in the last place I put it. Found the necklace, went to go to work-- and a big-assed raptor was sitting on a branch of my olive tree:
So I cried & my mascara ran. When I regained a portion of my functioning brain, I ran back inside to get my camera, took a picture, gave thanks to my brother for being here when I needed him most-- and the hawk flew away.
I miss him, and I hate this time of the year without him.
but at the moment, I am blitzed on vodka/gin/cranberry ginger ale, and the thoughts in my head might even make their way out. Dammit, I just caught myself misspelling :their." Shit, I really must be drunk...
I'm going to go rejoice in the fact that I bought three new pairs of shoes today (not fancy ones, practical ones for work), and I have a fucking day OFF tomorrow! YES!!!!
Cheers & All
Pee Ess Errm, does anyone know what species of raptor this is? Red hawk?
- Mood:
drunk & mostly joyously sad - Music:whirzy mix on my iTunes
( The Dastardly Deeds. )
- Mood:
confused - Music:Depeche Mode's "Wrong"
Two other cats were present, including another calico.
Bizarro: heirloom roses in Leif Erikson Park, Duluth MN are re-blooming. Read article online regarding Australian dust storm. Droughts galore...
Hmmmp.
Ooof. I thought I went to bed early enough, but at the moment I can't stop yawning. If I was given the opportunity to go back to bed & sleep until 1pm, I'd take it.
I dreamt of Ireland again. I was sitting on a cliff wall, with my feet tucked under my legs. I was listening to the faint-but-growing-stronger echoes of Uilleann & Scottish bag pipes, playing what sounded like "Roisin Dubh." The skies were dark & filled with rain. The vegetation was thick, sprawling masses of heather. The air was rich with the scent of salt water & peat. I was a little sad, but smiling. I had a blanket over my shoulders-- a plaid. Predominantly red & green, with thin yellow & blue lines-- and felt like a very soft wool.. Can't remember the pattern very well.
Groggy, bleah.
Cheers & All
- Mood:
sleepy - Music:chickadees singing
( The Whining Road ) I am groggy this morning... dreamt of Louisiana's potholes & bayous. Kept on driving into them, but I was so amused at my own foolishness that I was laughing, and laughing very hard.
Off to make tea & coffee. Yes, I'm having both.
Cheers All
P.S. Kev, where did you go?? Cannot access your blog anymore... as in, I get a blank screen. Wha?
- Mood:
tired - Music:"Boten Anna" by Basshunter
Feeling much better today, but am not 100%. I think slowly but surely, I am giving up on some types of restaurants. I don't know about you, but I don't ever want to look forward to symptoms of botulism. Ugh.
Am visiting my mom today, to belatedly celebrate her birthday & give moral support. She isn't doing well at all... Whatever disease processes are going on, they are kicking her ass... *sigh* AND it's raining. I know we need it, but sheesh. Day off= rain on me. Thank you very much.
And that's enough of that. I am doing laundry for tomorrow & having more coffee. Waiting for the right moment.
I dreamt I was living in the Smoky Mountains, living in quite the luxurious cabin, with burled oak flooring. Whenever my moods shifted, as I walked across the floor the burl patterns would change, too. The kitchen cabinets were made of cherry, the main bathroom floor was made of Italian marble, and my bedroom was more or less the Outdoors. My 4-poster bed was nearly overtaken by Engelman's ivy, English ivy and something that looked like hibiscus. Hummingbirds were darting everywhere to eat, and it was quite relaxing. There was a small pool of water nearby, and it turned out to be a heated pool. There were flowers everywhere-- some exotic stuff that I didn't recognize. Lots of iris & roses (which don't normally bloom together, I realize), and tulips galore. Ahhhh, good dream.
And now... I need to rescue my laundry, shower up, and glare out my window at this rain. Makes for very sloppy & somewhat dangerous driving. Pffft.
Cheers & All
- Mood:
calm - Music:"Hobo Blues" by John Lee Hooker
The last dream I remember was that I was in Las Vegas. I had been walking up & down the Strip at leisure, ending at Caesar's Palace. The smell of spicy food, chocolate, chlorinated water, and various civet-based perfumes was fairly strong. The sun was at about 2pm, and judging by the relative coolness of the air, it was probably January or February.
I was on my way to my car to take a nap-- a very lovely new Dodge Charger SRT8...
And now my mum is on the phone...
- Mood:
cranky - Music:"Bitter End" by Placebo
I don't feel unhappy, just undecided. Not urgent. I ask if the mechanic has decided whether or not I should be driving my car (can't see a car in the dream). They smile and nod their heads gently. Isabella opens her beautiful, soft, elderly hands & gives me a tattered, well-used recipe for Uncle Daniel's flapjacks with blueberries & maple syrup. She says something, but the wind takes it away.
Rafe looks to... what I think is the East and nods his head.
Woke up groggy & not refreshed, and I now have one minute before needing to get ready for work FASTER.
Cheers & All
- Mood: OK
- Music:My coffeemaker
I don't know if I want to get into the habit of it, for fear that when I'm not sleeping at home, I won't be able to stay asleep (I know, how often am I not at home, right?) but... I listened to a mix I made of various artists, along with the score & soundtrack to "Twilight" and "Perfume" on a Repeat loop before I went to bed last night...
Ahhh. For the first time in what seems like forever, I crashed out and stayed asleep-- until 7am. I was going to grog awake when The Wiener came whining for a potty break, but I grumbled at Weasel and went back to sleep. Ladies & Germs! I did not get out of bed until 8:26am. YES!!
I am not necessarily refreshed, but I was coherent enough to call my mum @8:30, make coffee, and then punt the dog out the door.
I had traveling dreams, again. The one I remember the most was quite pleasant.
One I remember: I was visiting someone who lived in a 2-story stone cottage that was nestled against a dark gray, very old-looking stone dividing wall. The cottage had been built at the top of a hill, or possibly a cliff-- the view was all deep river trails & green.
The cottage had an old wooden staircase that had just been polished with lemon-scented oil. I was momentarily bummed, because I had left my shoes upstairs. I had a pair of sandals by the front entrance, but I didn't want to wear them, for whatever reason.
I decided to have breakfast first-- the tiniest kitchen ever, but I grabbed a cherry scone & poured a cup of tea from a beautiful tea set... Very strong, very milky & sweet...
The dream skipped, and was outside, near dusk, with the proper pair of shoes on. The yard had a tremendous amount of plants that had tiny pink, yellow & purple flowers-- planted around all sides of it, which stretched down to the end of the rather long, curvy driveway. Lots of meadow grasses. Shrubs-- wait, that was a type of rose that was on either side of the cottage's doors. Flowers everywhere, in all manner of containers. Huh. There were trees I didn't recognize... I was riding an old-school bicycle that had a basket that was filled with bread, pears, quince, and a squat container filled with something orange. I was wearing a kilt, of all things.
I began to pedal, and the breeze was soft & fragrant... heather, anise, roses, earthiness. The dream ended.
Ahhhhh. Freud can go suck on his cigar. That was a good one.
I'm trying to remember where I put my Henning Mankell books... mum wants to read them, again. They're in storage, somewhere.
I hate not having proper places for my books, dammit.
Now I'm off...
Cheers All
- Mood: cheerful
- Music:"Make it Soon" by a-Ha
This world will also somehow have advanced technology in medicines... and Mozart will live to be at least 63.
I am so flipping tired, I might just rub my eyes raw. Auugh!
Stupid blinking against the darkness... I refuse to acknowledge anything other than my brain is working furiously to solve some things... and since I shouldn't bring my home life to work, it ends up pouring forth when I get off work...
What I need, to soothe the savage brainpan: since I am the failed Search queen-- where do I start looking to see how a lone human goes about "becoming" an expat and permanently moving abroad? Research, research, research. Jobs, jobs, jobs. Money, money, money.
Why should I wait until I'm 65 to figure out how to make a dream come true, when I could fiddle about with it now? I am restless, cranky, and... probably in need of a kick in the ass, but there it is. More than ever, I do not want to be here. Granted, I have not traveled to all 50 states, so perhaps there is a real gem waiting for me out there, somewhere. Mayhap I am simply feeling one of my "thirsty" longings for travel. If so, I'm bloody well dehydrated & dying... I have been dreaming of places, again. Places I've never been to, places I have been to... Oooh, the itch to shake my butt out of these restrictive American pants & just go is something fierce.
This is what happens when Raineth goes crazy nuts & needs more than one day off... *sigh*
And in Other News, I found a copy of "Twilight" the book the other day... Oh, for shame. The book is so much more. I have a fantastic movie projector inside of my head... the silly woman missed so much of the humor &... for lack of better adjectives, intensity of heat.
Holy crap.
And now... I must get ready for work(s). I'll have just enough time to shimmy home, feed & then punt the dog outside for a potty break, change my clothes & head to job #2. Ugh.
Cheers & All
- Mood: Blat
- Music:"Shedding" by Juggernaut
It's Official:
I have yet another cold. I have a very sexy-sounding voice, at least. Well, at least that's what I'm telling myself. What it really sounds like is a low-toned squawk that's squeezing past a throat that's been sorely abused by alcohol & cigarettes. Nice visual, I know.
The beginnings of a multiple-month-long fight for breath is rattling around in my lower lungs, and I'm going to try to keep it there. The tightness of a run-of-the-mill "cough 'n' hacker" is present mid-lung, and I'm trying to kill that with vitamins & tea. I'll save the booze & chilies for last.
You know, I am so tired of being out of commission due to upper respiratory illnesses! Ugh. In my mind, somewhere, I have this idea that it's got something to do with damp. But that just might be a misfire from the last struggling group of brain cells that survived the toxic atmosphere that is my melon on natural drugs (that is, an unusual hormonal dump).
~ Weasel woke me up early, and I am really wanting to pound on his silly pocket watch, wherever he keeps it in his fur. Did he not see that I set my alarm clock one hour later? Gah!
~ In mostly unrelated news, I dreamt about blog trolls, last night. I had snappy yet polite comebacks to every single post, but only favored a few with a reply. It became a contest, of sorts, to see who could post the most dung & get a reply, in the blog world. wtf, eh? Well, that skill would have been much appreciated a few years ago. Mmf, mrp.
Hmmm. That night I wanted to dream of England, I dreamt of a town by water. I don't know where I ended up, though. The accents were mostly English (from different areas), Irish, Afrikaans and French. I was in a roomy, well-lit pub with a hardwood floor, red shutters and a chipping-white-paint front door. The barman was serving me a basket of very hot fish & chips and a very tall, dark & strong beer that smelled like molasses & motor oil (in a good way!). I was telling the barman that they really needed to fix the sign out front, as it looked like "two saggy tits on a camel." He barked out a laugh & told me to eat my grub. There was bar chatter & street noise in the background, and I was aware of many accents, but not what the people were talking about or the sound of the engines.
The place smelled faintly of ocean and fresh fish. The sharp, tangy odor of vinegar would waft by occasionally, along with unidentifiable perfumes, food, and a blast of diesel here & there. I was sticking my head out the door at one point, and I was looking for a grey car with a white racing stripe. The road outside was narrow, and had unfamiliar trees on one side of it. There were a few other shops, but I don't remember them very well. Not much. Just a little something-something.
And now... I must get ready to go to work.
Cheers & All
- Mood:
okay - Music:"Cuts You Up" by Peter Murphy
I had a series of dreams. None were as sensory-detailed as usual, but all were disturbing nonetheless.
1. My brother was still alive but had sustained a traumatic injury & was in an extremely deep coma at the hospital. I knew that I needed to be there, as I was known as 'The Singer of the Undead." My skill was to... be with people when they were unconscious/comatose, and guide them back. I held Rafe's hand and sang, as you would to a wee bairn, the story of Karl the Mule with a Bicycle Wheel in His Stomach. My brother woke up, lifted his head to cock an eyebrow at me and said "That is the worst damned story I've ever heard," laid his head back and went to sleep. I cried. Hell, I'm crying now (because I miss him, not because of what he said!).
2. A person whose blog I read, but don't know in the real world, had been in a severe accident and was comatose in the hospital. Their friends had somehow tracked me down through comments I'd made on the blog, and asked me to visit. They didn't know I was the Singer of the Undead. When I arrived, I was so sad that my throat closed up and I couldn't sing, all I could do was weep & whisper. I curled up next to them on the hospital bed, cradled their hands in mine & kept on asking them to stay. The scene switched out before anything else happened.
3. I was getting a tattoo on my back completed. In the dream, the tattoo fit perfectly across my entire back, but in reality it wouldn't have done so. It was done mostly in black & grey work, of a massive oak tree that took over the right side of my back, and across the bottom of my neck. At the top and across the rest of my back, somehow overlapping-but-separate, was a Monarch butterfly that "flew" when I rotated my shoulder blades, as well as a hawk; they both flew and... shifted, when I moved my shoulders.
Argh. I used to study Medicine Cards (think tarot, only animal), and I also attribute different strengths & meanings to different types of trees/shrubbery. It's been a very long time, and I can't remember much.
I am exhausted from dreaming and feel... disoriented. My eyes were all puffy & red this morning; I must have been crying in my sleep. I don't know why, I don't have a reason to be crying! Things are going really well for me, all things considered. Blargh.
Now I need to get ready for work. It's a very short shift today, and that's good. Unless the weather shifts, I'm going to grill!
Cheers & All
- Mood: exhausted
- Music:"Mass Corruption" by Pissing Razors
Bizarre and disturbing, and for once I wasn't paying attention to details. I don't know, maybe I was having trouble breathing last night & that's what my brain decided to do about it. Thanks, brain. You suck!
It's cold outside.
I need to make coffee and finish last night's laundry.
Cheers & All
*edit* OK, I've got coffee, breakfast, work clothes drying, and am two blogs happier. Thanks P. Dub & Southern Brit for helping to make morning less El Crappio.
It's nice, how this tends to work.... OK, morning, I can do this! Just... give me some sun, will you? Ugh.
- Location:"Click Click Boom" by Saliva
- Mood: blah
Huh.
Not that dreams always make sense, but what if you're pretty sure there's a specific message in them, and you just aren't equipped to decipher all of it?
Bah. Maybe my brain is working too hard, and that's all. I am still trying to grog awake from a very powerful dream in which I was being told "You are a woman of high coincidence. Follow the path of the sonnet" by an ancient and long-dead monk of Ireland (he had a brown, heavy-weight, course linen robe on, as far as I am able to recollect) at Clonmacnoise.
Some of you know that I had dreams of Ireland before I traveled there, and that I was able too "match up" several dream icons & representations (or my interpretations thereof) when I was there. Where is that post? I should link to it, if I remember...
It may not mean anything. It feels like it means something. Or I want it to feel like something. Surprisingly, I haven't dreamed of Ireland much (that I can recall), though the impact of having been there was staggering in its enormity. I can't begin to describe it. Perhaps I've had a very long mental block due to the fact that I traveled with someone who I felt really wasn't interested in being there with me, and I had always dreamed of going there by myself. Hummm.
Know that I have no idea how to compose a sonnet. I don't understand the abab-cdcd, etc. bit at all. What is a sonnet's path? In my eyes: structure, rhyme, reason, conflict, resolution, beauty, a story.
Is there a tree by the lake at Clonmacnoise? I don't remember, and I don't think I have any pictures of the area that the Pope spoke at in 1979 (?). The monk addressed me there... I didn't recognize the type of tree, but it had very rough bark. It was overcast (just like when I was there) and I was surrounded by the scent of rich earth, stone and grasses. I was at peace. Bird calls. A breeze. I was dressed in something not familiar to me (a very simple yet expensively-made gown, and I couldn't tell you what time period it might have been from). Oh! The nun's ruins were not completely ruined... there was more. I can't remember, right now.
Some days I believe that I live parallel lives too close to each other, and the realities meld. But mostly I have no idea... just no idea.
Ugh, it's going to be a hard day at work. Must. Ignore. Impulse. To. Examine. Dream!
Cheers & All
- Mood: sleepy
- Music:"Bitter End" by Placebo
Aquarius in Nature + Sagittarius Rising = a fiery airhead who tends to be very independent, boorish & impatient, and somewhat scatterbrained.
However, I will frequently provide you with free entertainment!
I'm not Jewish, but it's Purim, and I'm eyeballing a recipe for Hamantaschen. The dough should sit overnight (or at least a couple of hours, but I don't have enough time, before work, left for that), but that means I won't be able to make yum-yums until Wednesday night, due to my work schedule. Poopie. Hmmm. I should cruise to Byerly's to see if they have some challah with raisins. On most Sundays and Jewish holidays they do, but it gets sold out quickly. I love challah. Yum yum, I rubbity my tum-tum.
I made a loaf of challah once, and it turned out very nice. So my braid was a bit crap. The bread itself was delicious.
In Other News: I had a dream that I was sitting in the middle of a small cave on a floor that was covered with quite a few furs. The cave had a very tall ceiling that was an iridescent-blue. The interior was softly lit, and the walls sparkled, as if by a reflection of water. I was surrounded by low-level flickering orange-yellow flames. The flames weren't hot, simply burning cold. I was dressed in garb that remind me of a Shakespearean production and I was singing, for Lawd's sake. The piece was unfamiliar to me, in a language that I don't know, and not in my range (if you can call my range singing)... Faugh, I seriously need to finish learning how to read music so that I can then learn how to compose it. Anyway. I would have thought that I was merely observing someone else sing, but the feeling that I was this person was very strong. I was younger... and well, not me. I mean, the woman looked like me when I was about 18-21, only I wasn't an American. That doesn't make sense. Eh, I love/hate those dreams. Very fascinating, but very confusing. In any event, I was singing, and Holy Crap, could I sing! The kind of notes I was hitting were the kind that make your hair stand on end and your brain go into a trance. Whoo. There was another presence in the dream, but I was too busy paying attention to the singing to dig for who or what it might have been.
As the dream-me watched the younger me, the atmosphere was that of the most astounding serenity and joy. If you've ever attended an opera & you were so moved that you held your breath because you didn't want to ruin the moment-- yes, it was one of those moments. Hmmm, I suppose someone might compare it to a really good experience in church-- but I don't attend. Arr, hum.
Then I took a gasping breath and woke up. Damn.
And that was that. My back feels much better today. I am still feeling restless. It's a full moon. I need to MAKE something. Aughhh. Why did I never get into working with clay, I wonder? Probably because I can't eat it *snort*
And now... I'm going to stretch out to Depeche Mode's newer tune, "Wrong." This video is courtesy of dmdotcom@ YouBoob..
Their forthcoming album, "Sounds of the Universe," should be out in April or thereabouts. Oooh, I'm so excited. Sadly, their tour dates for this year don't currently include anything remotely near me. New York, California, Texas, Florida... Colorado, Nevada, Georgia. Oooh, Depeche, you must needs come closer! Hmmm. Who knows. Maybe I'll go to Florida in September, if they don't schedule anything in the interim. I mean... no stop in Chicago, at least? Yikes. Or... maybe this means I should be going on vacation to Las Vegas. Oooh, Vegas. I heart Vegas.
I am so weird.
And you love me anyway.
Cheers & All
- Mood: Boing, boing, boing
- Music:Depeche Mode's "Strangelove"
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