ne(one)piphany

I’ve been dreaming of many wild and colorful things, but always of not-quite-there, too late, too short, too tired, too young — but at least I’m not constantly dreaming of final exams anymore. I mean, seriously, it’s been eight years since I graduated from any type of school. Get over it already!

The bar in my dreams seemed to be serving Ocean Spray sangria, so it’s just as well I couldn’t reach.

Speaking of cameraphones: anyone who knows me at all realizes I’m all about tiny & cute, but it’s hard to deny the appeal of this thing. I think it’s from all my lawyer friends whipping out BlackBerries all the time, or maybe it’s just about blogging from a cell phone — but is it worth the cost of looking like a gigantic tool? Help me!

Mark Paschal has released a beta version of OpenID Comments for MT 1.3, which fixes the long sign-in problem, so feel free to sign in with your LiveJournal or OpenID username to comment if you want. Yay!

I dreamt of tall grass and flames; standing on the ridge with a hole in my arm and my heart, all I could do was watch and cry. But we can wait, and hope.

Am slowly reliving old television miniseries of my childhood — already wrote about 1982’s The Scarlet Pimpernel with Jane Seymour and Anthony Andrews, and last night started re-watching the 1983 BBC Jane Eyre with Timothy Dalton and Zelah Clarke, just released on disc, which I remember with untold amounts of affection (though perhaps I should cut out the “re-,” since at 311 minutes and uncut, it’s quite a bit longer than the one I saw on videocassette back in middle school).

Jane Eyre is one of my all-time favorite books, so I was happy to see that not only is this as good as I remember from my wide-eyed & romantic childhood, it’s actually better! Though Jane is not so plain, Blanche not so beautiful, and Rochester far too dashing*, it still all works; and really, the casting couldn’t be better, because after one gets over the physical incongruities, everything else — acting, dialogue, sets, chemistry — I swear, it was like I was a teenager again!

Hope to finish up tonight, or later this weekend, and maybe some sort of Austen marathon for dessert? Bonnets and bustles and waistcoats: oh! I’ll be intolerable and happy, to be sure.

Awoke with fresh tears in my eyes. Another visitation from my dream-daughter, the one who has haunted my dreams but speaks only of death? But no, I do not remember her: though there was a church, a waterfall, a long fall…

Sometimes I am there again, walking delicately through a rainbow bed of fallen foliage, as soft sunset light falls through the canopy overhead and brushes my hair. There is no noise, nor rustle of breeze, and improbably, the leaves do not even crumple beneath my bare feet. Here is where she appeared first, apparition-like, with her words of love, of loss — soft-spoken, but heavy as a drum. A gift and message from the future. A future, one not mine, but hers.

She says: I wanted to meet you, just once.

Once. The word is what it is: final, fatal, unambiguous.

But there I go again, and wait. Because I do not choose or know where I travel, in dreams, though tears remind me.

Random sequence from a recent dream:

tardigrades, water bears, moss piglets…

• via Capodistria, the above pic and a link to tardigrade appreciation headquarters.
• via Geegaw, a MeFi thread on tardigrades.
• from above MeFi thread, a link to plush tardigrades from the Field Museum Store!