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angela

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dream: microbugs [Mar. 18th, 2007|09:24 pm]
angela
i was hanging out in this house that a bunch of guys lived in, but it was flooded up to the knees. they were just going about their business and didn't seem to care; either it was always like that or it happened often enough that they didn't even notice. the whole place was a pretty run down bachelor pad.

then, the water had all been drained. i was in a room by myself, and noticed that an orange sweater thrown nearby was repairing itself from worn and unraveled to whole. upon closer inspection, there was a small front of microscopic bugs progressing across the fabric, reversing the damage as they went and refabricating it, visible only as a moving electrostatic zone where things sort of stood on end. i realized that the bugs had also been responsible for draining the water somehow, and i also realized that they were moving across the skin of my arms in a prickly, disturbing wave of hair standing on end, across my whole body, my clothing. they were moving across all in their path, healing it, making everything whole. i noticed that some burnt shades on the window had been repaired. at their peak, it felt like the bugs covered everything like a static-y dusting, and were big enough that i could see them, as tiny pale aphid-like things. i was both repulsed and amazed, observing with uneasy fascination. then they were gone entirely, with only all the changes in their wake.
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storm watch [Nov. 21st, 2006|10:34 pm]
angela
whoa, apparently the morbid/enthusiastic folks in charge of naming worldwide tropical storms have it all planned out for the next several years. while you're wondering how anyone could refute global warming, they have gone the extra mile and put faces on disasters yet undreamed of.

it's like some weird roulette of annoying drop-in relatives - we all know igor's going to land unannounced somewhere in 2010, but where?
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art trade [Nov. 20th, 2006|07:06 am]
angela
after the acquisition of a digital camera, film starts to look like a quaint expensive investment. nor can you eat it, yet i have hopefully kept a large bag of it in a refrigerator drawer for years. finally the fridge real estate looked more useful than the film. i wrote it up on the 'free' page of craigslist, and offered to exchange it for any unwanted prints the photographer might have - something for my wall. which sounded fun to me, and one gentleman lawyer responded before the craigslist community crankily flagged and removed by ad - i can only assume because a trade is not the same as 'free,' which is entirely correct of them, but still, what a bunch of uptight busibodies. art trade! why not?

so the man who answered my ad was in fact named art, and he let me pick a print off his flickr page, and eventually i went by his house and gave him a bunch of really old 120 film to experiment with in his new really cheap holga camera, and he gave me an 8x10 of this chosen nearly abstract print. nice person, fun trade. now i want to trade everything i own for people's art.



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fall flower [Nov. 7th, 2006|02:21 pm]
angela

now, i'm not one to feel that the world needs a whole lot more flower photography, but i really couldn't help myself. i was studying microbiology in the back yard, minding my own business, and looked up to see this GIGANTIC flower on a succulent that has been bravely surviving in a lonely corner of the yard with little water and less love for, oh, 10 years. this is it's first flower, and there may be more budding. i guess desert plants like to be left alone.

more photos of its weird alien parts over with this one.
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dream: scary freudian story of my life [Oct. 30th, 2006|11:35 am]
angela
i was in love with this man who may have once been a real person but had unfortunately become disembodied and had to be passed along from person to person to inhabit their body.

there was an odd scene where my mother was on the phone speaking to this man, and in this cutaway scene it was her that was in love with him, and she was telling him that if this were serious, he would have to choose a body within an appropriate age range and STAY in it, so that they could have an actual relationship.

back to my love dilemma. this man was currently inhabiting the body of a vibrant female acquaintance of mine, and the gender difference was fine, but the whole issue of constantly changing bodies and overlapping personalities was confusing. it occurred to me that i could invite him into my body, and then we would be together - maybe a little too close, but at least it would not be a series of strangers' bodies.

as i prepared for the transfer, i was worried - would this other personality take control of my body? would i still be conscious? but it also occurred to me that the whole process seemed a little unlikely, and there was a possibility that it was a hoax. sure enough, the 'transfer' occurred, and everyone was acting like i was now him, but i felt no different, and i wondered if they were expecting me to pretend to be him. i realized that that's what the other women had done, like people in some cult, they had just played along and allowed themselves to believe, to pretend to be this guy, afraid to admit that nothing had happened. i realized that this meant he had not actually existed this whole time, or at least not since his original manifestation as a person, and this was creepy and good to know, but it made me unavoidably very sad - the person i was in love with didn't really exist, and hadn't for a long time.
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extra credit [Aug. 25th, 2006|06:20 pm]
angela
it seems strange to me that science and religion have ever been at odds. maybe at its inception science was a threat to faith, but with all we know now the scales feel tilted. at least, the more science i study, the more unfathomable it seems that all of this could have aligned by accident. a stack of science books seems like a huge treatise on the existence of a greater will. YOU go take chemistry, anatomy, and microbiology, and come back and explain to me how it all just sort of happened. and make sure you account for consciousness while you're at it. i mean, i know there's been a lot of time for life to evolve, but i'm guessing that other sciences i'm less familiar with - physics, geophysics - might also set one wondering.

this doesn't really lead to religion for me personally, but i quite seriously wonder who is doing this, and why.
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the semester that ate my brain [Aug. 22nd, 2006|05:26 pm]
angela
two new developments: i am unemployed, and i am being over-educated.

plans to stay on one day a week at work were derailed by a suspiciously sociopathic new boss who insisted on harassing me until i could not bear the thought of ever working for her ever again. so, i am not working, for the first time in memory.

however, this does not translate into any new spare time. thank god for that woman being the bitch that she is, or i might still be under the silly impression that i need to earn money one day a week. no way! not when i can be doing homework with every waking breath! i will be living and breathing anatomy and microbiology for the next few months. i am very excited by all of it, but i am also feeling very stressed out and overwhelmed. fun - i can't forget that what i'm doing is fun. so much depends on the approach. and pacing myself.
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dream: underground nexus [Jul. 21st, 2006|08:49 pm]
angela
somewhere in the back of my house (maybe in the yard by a ramshackle shed or more likely in a dilapidated old leaning hallway in the back made of that exposed composite laminated wood board stuff leading to some pantry door, anyway, in some creaky, dry, airy place in the back) were one or two doors that i discovered opened into dark, damp stone hallways that wound around underground until they converged in a sort of round, modest grand central station of hallways. it was kind of wet and barely adequately lit with bare bulbs and other minimal wiry light fixtures overhead. each hallway exiting this room led to a door that opened on some fabulous place in the world. there were a steady slow of travelers who were savvy to this magical waystation. they were about my age, fairly weathered, and very funky and individualistic, and they travelled in a purposeful, self-contained way individually or in groups of two or three. they seemed a little foreign, as if they might be from another time, or not entirely human or something. i was terribly excited to have access to this network and to explore it, and i spent some time peeking out doors into other worlds. but when i went home, the next time i opened the doors they led to nothing special, just closets and pantries. i was crushed. then somehow there was some guardian spirit i was asking about this. apparently the magical passageways were gone for now, but when i asked if i would ever have access to them again and more opportunity to explore, the answer was most definitely, and i was content.
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dream: jean luc [Jul. 7th, 2006|11:22 pm]
angela
a large mansion was towed in sections into the lot next to our house. an entire hill was brought in, so this huge, empty castle was sitting on this huge, grassy hill with trees. it seemed mysterious and promising and i was excited to have it and its residents as neighbors, and thought maybe i'd get to hang out there. it was a big improvement on the neighborhood.

then it was the end of western civilization. people were milling about in the streets, gathering in offices, trying to get together what they needed to move out, transforming public spaces into immediately functional space for unexpected purposes. some people were running scams, others were just seeking community or connection, or trying to assess their resources and options. it was confusion, but not violent, not riots. i was intrigued, but not scared.

i was in a room with jean luc picard, laying down clothed with him. we was apologizing and embarrassed for getting hard as we held each other. i said it was fine, and we sat up. he was distraught, in tears about the collapse of society. i held him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes, and said slowly, and very carefully thought out, and emoted with every fiber of my being, 'EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY.' i paused, and thought, and added, 'DON'T WORRY.' of course we both knew everything wasn't going to be okay, but i felt he understood that i meant it on a deeper level, on a more timeless level. he looked a mess, his face all wet with tears, totally lost and despairing, but i thought he understood me.
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castaway spoilers [Jun. 28th, 2006|12:36 am]
angela
before i left for fiji, i caught up with all my netflix except for one: castaway with tom hanks. it didn't seem right to watch before traveling to an island. this evening, statistics homework decidedly finished, was the right time to watch it. of course, two weeks on an island on vacation is a far cry from four years stranded, but some of the sensibility one returns with is similar: the things you thought were important may or may not be the same things you think are important when you return. and maybe that is at the core of a lot of travel: perspective. one of the special gifts an island has to give seems to have to do with perceptions of time - that there is plenty of it, rather than never enough.

oh, and sun. i haven't avoided the sun at all since i've been back, and i feel like more of a citizen of the planet for it. i'm living in this environment, bring it on. summer is like heaven to me right now.

i want to take a moment to make a plug for one of the novels i read while i was there, evolution's shore my ian mcdonald. it's superb, if you like your sci-fi drenched with intelligent plant-life symbiosis, which i do. it's all about alien spores terraforming the earth with coral-like growth, and meanwhile i'm in the ocean every day swimming around in the reefs. life imitates art. for a few days on one island the water was murky and crusted with something like pollen, and one local said that the reefs were spawning. it only happens for a day or two, and only a couple of times a year. all around me, the coral was having sex. another traveller called it coral cum, and added that if it gets in a wound it will try to grow. how cool is that? if you can ignore the fact that this will really only mean an infected wound. go read the book, and you'll understand why the idea of being overgrown with coral sounds so appealing.
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