"One Was So Young and So Fair..."

OH. MY. SQUEE.

*just got off the telephone with silverdragon262 omgomgomg*

^___________^ Aiiii, love her! We talked about everything! And I went out and hugged Pennsylvania for her, lay down on the grass and hugged Pennsylvania, because she is so far away in England! And we talked about DF, and Hamlet and Horatio (lots), and she let me ramble about Jules Verne!

And we went to Egypt.

And then we spent half an hour trying to say good-night and hang up, and neither of us would hang up, and we kept giggling and trying, trying, oh, very hard, but finally I was brave enough. Oh, woe. ^_____^

^_________________________^ Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!

*is in a panicky ecstasy of squee*

Ehe. Oh. <3 <3 <3

"You Walk the Streets of Righteousness, but You Refuse to Understand..."

I dreamt I was on a street with Waen and two of her friends, and there were three boys from Korea skateboarding, and we didn't know each other but we all walked about as though we did, and I helped them put their skateboards together, and we laughed about something, but then when I finally stood up, both my knees were bleeding and the bone was poking out of both of my legs at the ankles. I went through the door at the end of the street, and I could hardly walk because I was shaking so hard, and through the door was a magnificent hotel with green carpets and wooden staircases with balustrades. At the top of one of the staircases, I fell down, and leaned against the wall and cried, and suddenly the hotel doctor came to help me. He looked just like my favourite doctor at work, and that's when my music began skipping and woke me up.

I only mention it because it's the first dream I've had in several months; perhaps longer.

I've been having the most awful mood swings lately. First I'm terribly happy, I'm in love, I want to go outside and dance, and then suddenly I remember all the reasons I'm so tired all the time, and how much I dislike myself, and how this makes it very unlikely I shall ever have anybody love me, in a casual pretty way.

Er. Because I don't like myself anymore. That was the one really horrible thing that happened on our trip. Somewhere in South Dakota I snapped, and stopped thinking perhaps I was beautiful, and now I just sort of hate me again. I have a prettyish sort of face, but that's not the part of me I always see--I always see my body, which I loathe to such a degree that prior to my thinking perhaps I was beautiful, particularly in March, I used to try to hurt.

Mum says she will help.

But just at present I'm happy, although I was crying a little earlier. I'm a little afraid to go to Sewanee like this. It's quite all right to go away from home for two weeks when you are happy with yourself and excited and can't wait to do everything, but when you're unhappy, and secretly you hate yourself, and--for this is how it goes with me--you can't interact with anybody because all you can think about it how much they must hate looking at you and how ugly the person they see is and how they don't even know that I was pretty, I was, just four weeks ago, before my play came to a climax and I lost everything I'd managed to build up in April and May--well, when you feel like that, it's much harder, and I'm a little afraid I shall ruin it for myself. I want to like myself the way I did in April, when I first thought, well, you know, maybe I am pretty, maybe it doesn't take to look like Kate Beckinsale, maybe I'm happy anyway--and I don't.

And it's hard, because people want just telling me that I look nice to work, and it doesn't. It's hard to stop thinking something like what I think. I don't know what other people are seeing. Perhaps my face--it is a prettyish sort of face, but that's not what's important.

Oh woes. I'm sorry. I would just like to be beautiful enough for Sewanee by Friday, which is when I leave, and I little expect I will be. I will bring only my dresses, of course, because they make me feel better; and all my best books; and I will see how many postcards I can write; but--

Well, I will try. I just wish...! And that is why I keep going from happy to sad so much.

To-day is library day. I've missed everybody at the library so much. I shall lose myself. I am always pretty at the library, because I go swish in my dresses, between the bookshelves, and I say hello to everything, and I can help people. And I know where everything belongs. I shall feel much better.

To-day's trip photograph is the bronze burro in Burro Lane in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I'm afraid most of the landmark photographs do have either myself or Waen in them; and more often me, because Waen refuses to let her photograph be taken. Proud beautiful girl.

"All Your Olive Branches Turn to Spears..."

I still love this meme...

LiveJournal Haiku!
Your name:	rainbowjehan
Your haiku:	her after all and she said she was happy and then we fold our hands
Username:
Created by Grahame

Oh, that one's pretty! I remember what it comes from.

LiveJournal Haiku!
Your name:	rainbowjehan
Your haiku:	i did see almost everybody no one can resist soujin
Username:
Created by Grahame

*dies laughing* I sound like Courfeyrac. ^_^

( eee, the shiny draws me, but nevertheless I shall cut! )

The photograph for this post is from the fountains in Memphis. Waen and I.

"Nothing of My Person Within or Without Could Compare..."

At library presently. The librarian's young and very, erm, excitable granddaughter is also staying.

Buhh. I have no idea how some people manage. I mean, the child's intentions are pure and harmless enough, and she's very friendly, but she's also very loud and she runs about madly and wants me to chase and catch her. I shall never understand how children, like cats, are drawn to those who would simply Rather Not. There are Ogden Nash poems I find applicable.

However, I have been very good. I have lifted her up so she could clean the high shelves, and I have let her sit upon my cart as I shelved, and I have run about after, and I have given her my Bethlehem scarf and my earrings to play with (she is entirely amazed and fascinated by the concept of clip earrings). I have smiled much.

I also, however, have had five hours of sleep last night, and my collapse in imminent.

Ahaha. I am going to keep fish when I grow up. ;_;

"Which Way are You Going?"

Oh, Zara!

Your rain came!

*ecstatic, because it is so beautiful and everything has gone dark green and wonderful*

Waen in the South Dakota Badlands.

"And so the Flower of it Bloomed and Fell..."

To-night life seems unfair for existing; all is not very well. I mean to go to bed early, for to-morrow I shall have to face my extended family. *has reunion, gah*

Also, it has occurred to me that I really should get more than five hours of sleep a night, seeing as that has been consistently my sleep schedule for the past week.

At the library, I took out a book of T.S. Eliot, of Edward Lear; Cyrano de Bergerac; I, Claudius; and an Agatha Christie reader; and I put six Oz books on ILL. I went to Curves. I have done everything I ought for to-day except written:

I wrote part of every single story I need to be working on right now: Waen's, Zara's, shawk's, Nanni's--and plotted for the gleamswhichpass one--but nothing is coming. I haven't made anything whole out of any of them, and I suspect Zara's and possibly Nanni's will have to be scrapped entirely and rewritten. Am unspeakably frustrated.

There is one beautiful thing: The people at DF like me. *wobbles* They like me. It's so--but nice.

Another thing! tiamatschild, Pencroff has found on something he thinks it very important that you know about. We shall try to contact you as soon as possible. Also, N. received A.'s letter. He is being slightly secretive, but I think he is very, very glad--he is glad, too, that A. mentioned nothing from his last letter. Thank you to both of you!

The White House ruins at the bottom of the Canyon de Chelly in Arizona. Both Waen and I are in this one.