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Monday, January 6th, 2003

Time:7:55 am.
Okay, guys.
New year, new semester, new journal.
Celticqueenmel is being bumped off for another, cooler livejournal:
Evening_rain.
I will email you all to let you know, and add you to my new friends list.
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Sunday, January 5th, 2003

Time:2:07 pm.
Mood: amused.
Over the break, as we were driving to the not-open Thai restaraunt, Sarah and I got into a huge discussion over what we would do if we won the lottery. We ended up by deciding that we would buy two extremely old houses, side by side, in downtown St Augustine, connect them, and erect a pagany-witchy store and a cafe/bookshop. I would run the store, and Sarah would run the bookshop, which would have a celestial/astronomical theme, and all sorts of astronomical facts and photographs posted about the cafe. We would have horrible pretentious poetry reading nights, and then nights of Arabic music, and Indian music, and Celtic music, and belly dancing...all live of course. And since I would have all this lottery money, I could hire a shop manager (and pay her well) to deal with the main register/receipt/money stuff, and I could simply "maintain a presence" in the shop. And I wouldn't have to put up with rude customers, because the majority of my lottery money would be socked away in bonds and utilities and CDs and money market accounts, and I wouldn't have to rely on the fickle crazy public...and we could have charity programs, and close shop a couple of weeks a year and travel to Thailand and the UK and Switzerland and Siberia and Ecudor...
at which point, we ceased our fantasy, and I lamented, "Dude, why can't we win the lottery?"
Sarah responded, "I don't know, but we'd be good at it."
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Saturday, January 4th, 2003

Time:12:06 pm.
Mood: awake.
Watched "Dogma" last night; was surprisingly pleased with it.
Between Alan Rickman (who just gets alarmingly sexier every flick in which I see him), Janine Garafolo (who is always a good addition to a production), and Silent Bob/Kevin Smith (what can I say? I love him!!) it was altogether grand.
And I must say that it was extraordinarily amusing, seeing Christian faith/mythology/dogma/whateverthehellyouwanttocallit reduced to the ranks of petty in-fighting.

A day and a half left of freedom. What to do with it?
-Laundry
-Re-organise altar supplies
-Clean car
-Brush up on Latin
-Clean
-Hunt down my Muse and give her a good ear-boxing
-Bubble bath
-Call Mawga, Boppa, Mum, Syd, Katie, Deshka, and Sarah
Never ends.
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Thursday, January 2nd, 2003

Time:2:15 pm.
Mood:not yet accomplished.
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.

It's always nice to have a big, fat work paycheck waiting for you when you come into the office.

Today I have to:
-Purchase books
-Try to print up articles on an uncooperative printer
-Go to bank
-Drop off stuff at the dry cleaner's
-Call Diane
-Work on New Moon Ritual
-Clean, clean, clean

So I suppose I ought to stop dithering and get on with it.
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Wednesday, January 1st, 2003

Time:3:21 pm.
Mood: thoughtful.
Complacence is something that must be avoided at all costs.
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Monday, December 30th, 2002

Time:5:04 pm.

What fantasy movie are you?

brought to you by Quizilla
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Time:4:48 pm.
Mood:dreamy.
Strolling about downtown Daytona to-day, I came across a wannabe antique store. I call it a wannabe antique store because, if one is lucky, one might come across some antiques amongst all the cheap mass-produced jewelry and old carebears and whatnot.
We strolled about inside, and I came across a not-antique intricately-carved chair, fashioned to look like a throne, with carved lion-paw legs and plush red upholstery. Absolutely hideous and kitsch--and I am hopelessly in love with it. Of course, I sat down in the thing, and immediately imagined myself to be some sort of uber-cool sorceress or female heroine in a fantasy novel. I wanted to whip out my notebook and pen right there and begin writing. Never mind the fact that I lack plot, storyline, theme, characters, or any sort of idea whatsoever on what to write about.

I need to stop reading Lord of the Rings novels.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Time:12:20 pm.
Mood: hot.
Winter hols have almost come to an end.

Sigh.

All in all, I had a grand time over the last few weeks. I began with an envigourating (bracing?) walk on the beach on a blustery, cold, overcast day...it helped to roam my old stomping grounds. It helped clear my head.

Two canoe trips didn't hurt either.

It is hard to believe that I am already halfway done with my stint in Tampa. One part of me is scared, one part of me is relieved, one part of me is happy. Sad? Not at all.

Tough semester coming up, Modern British history, Latin 2, History of Fascism, and British and American Literature by women. Fascinating, yes, but demanding. Another 4.0 semester? I bloody well hope so.

Off to get dressed, then go to the chandelrey and mandala. Later on, I think I shall translate a few Latin pieces and download some music, and read about British society after the war.

By the way, 2003 will be the year I get a computer. Everybody, please hold me to that.
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Tuesday, December 24th, 2002

Time:1:03 pm.
Mood: amused.
I suppose, of all the things that I could dump all over the desk and floor of my sister's room, dropping a almost-full pot of glitter dust is about the best way I could go about doing it.

Sigh.

Must go to get the dustbuster.
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Friday, December 20th, 2002

Time:11:05 am.
The other night, as my sister and I were walking out to her car, I happened to glance up at the almost-full moon, and observed a bright, intense ring around it. I pointed this out to Sarah, hoping for an astronomical explanation for it (as she is huge into astronomy and got an A in the class and is in love with all things space-y) and in explanation, she said:
"That means someone is going to die to-night."
Exasperated, I said, " I was hoping for something a little more astronomical in nature."

A pause, and then she amended, "Someone is going to die tonight ON EARTH."

Heh.
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Thursday, December 19th, 2002

Subject:The Freakiest Thing EVER...
Time:8:36 pm.
Mood:Spooked.
...is hearing the theme song to the TV show "Mysterious Cities of Gold" as an adult when the last time you watched the show was when you were 8 frigging years old.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Time:10:27 am.
Mood:Resolved.
Well, fuck you all right in the ear.

No, not YOU.

You--the other ones.

I'm volunteering at the Salvation Army on Christmas day so SCREWYOUALL.
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Monday, December 16th, 2002

Subject:The new Nancy Drew mystery...
Time:2:35 am.
Mood:Smarter than people credit me.
Hmmm...

First, a bunch of my clothes went missing.

Now, someone is trying to hack into my sister Sarah's email account.

Curiouser and curiouser.
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Monday, November 25th, 2002

Subject:Here goes nothing...
Time:1:14 pm.
I sat here for a good forty-five minutes, looking for the most suitable lyrics to express the things I would say to Charity if I were to call her.
I had the whole damn entry written.
And then somehow managed to lose the whole durned thing.
And when it comes down to it, the only lyrics that I think should apply are the u2 lyrics:
"I am not afraid of anything in this world."
Of course, I am, but this is to infuse me with a false sense of courage to help me get the balls to call Charity.
Because I am going to call her place of work in less than an hour.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Subject:This is great...
Time:12:00 pm.




Which Founding Father Are You?

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Saturday, November 16th, 2002

Time:4:27 pm.
Mood: amused.
Life's greatest irony:

The idea of Fidel Castro having an enormous e-bay empire, living off his profits of capitalism's sloppy seconds.

Hee hee heh.
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Tuesday, November 12th, 2002

Time:10:44 am.
Mood: angry.
Today, I am in the foulest of foul moods.

There is an inky blackness staining me right now. I am not sure why, I only know that I loathe and hate everything and everyone. That's right, I am including you in that statement.

Goddammit, it's only 10:45 in the morning. I have got another ten hours or so until I get home, to my bed, to my books, to non-university-cafeteria food, to sleep.
Waaaaah.
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Friday, November 1st, 2002

Time:6:36 pm.
Mood: contemplative.
Today, class, I would like to tell you about my sister.

She is HOT.

She is a HOTTIE.

I shouldn't sound surprised, we all of us have an inner hottie. Sarah's simply is hotter than the rest.
Even when she looks scruffy, she's hot. Maybe it has got something to do with that totally spontaneous, mischievious, impulsive, un-self-conscious grin that melts my heart. Maybe it's got something to do with the look of resigned, enduring patience which, over the course of the years, has caused tiny, graceful lines to form around her beautiful, almond eyes. Maybe it's got something to do with the dramatic weight loss she has undergone in the past half year (she now weighs less than I do, I believe), maybe it has something to do with those adorably tiny, perfectly-sized hands and feet which are so talented and competent--jogging, baking, packaging things, deftly lighting an incense wand, dancing across the computer keyboard that really ought to become another limb attached to her person. Maybe it is how she goes from hottie to drop-dead gorgeous when she blow-dries her hair and applies her makeup and hauls out those trendy clothes that she pulls off so well.
I don't know what to attribute her hottiness to. All I know is that over the course of the years, she has grown to be more and more beautiful, both inside and out, and I am in complete awe of her.
And I can only consider myself to be absurdly flattered, as well as completely clueless, as to why people every where look from me to her and say incredulously, "Are you guys twins??"

She is stunning. If I were the reincarnation of Sappho, I could not think of enough phrases to stress how much of a refined, delightful, and lovely woman she is.
My muse fails me now.
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Thursday, October 31st, 2002

Time:8:53 am.
Mood: angry.
Okay, my day has been officially ruined. My whole frigging weekend, in fact. Always, always the goddamned President interrupting and screwing up the educational system and process.

How, you may ask?

That motherfucker has decided to condescend and pay a visit to our wonderfully shabby, skanky university this Saturday, in order to speak to interested people and manipulate them into voting for his brother--whose Republican congress has shot the educational system in Florida to hell in a handbasket.
That's insulting enough. BUT if that were not enough, I was planning on coming to the library on Saturday to immerse myself in the bound editions of the Illustrated London News dating back to 1841. Now I won't even be able to find any motherfucking parking.
AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURGHHHH, I HATE THEM ALL!!!
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Wednesday, October 16th, 2002

Time:5:35 pm.
Mood: thoughtful.
Am I the only one that will be highly amused if I end up pursuing my Dual Master's degree at The Catholic University of America?

The scariest part about it is that I am seriously considering that as an option.
Comments: Read 2 orAdd Your Own.

LiveJournal for Mel.

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