A dark oddities I stumbled upon during my travels...

Florida is a strange place. Even stranger if you have a knack for noticing the darker details. Fully intending to discover such details, Jack and I often take mini road trips to small towns in search of old book stores, good food, and intrigue. Have a look-see at what we found this time around.

Book store was closed that day. Tragic.




Only thing missing in these rooms is Lestat himself:

A curious crack in a mirror at the bottom of a long, dark staircase.
A clumsy clash?
A dreadful tumble?
A sinister push?
We'll never know.

The craziest coffee shop/bookstore/bar/ice cream shop I've ever seen:

Guess who just got engaged......

Being the geek dreamer that I am, I love to sleep in on my days off. I was doing just that one warm Friday morning, when I was awakened by my Imperial March ring tone.

"Good morning" he said, with an unusual hint of mystery in his voice.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiii..." I said. I love waking up to his call. "You on your way to work?"

"Uh...I guess you could say that?"

I yawned. "That's a weird thing to say." I heard him fumbling around with the phone. "What are you doing?"

"I'm driiiiiiiving."

"You don't sound like it."

"Well...I think you should check the front door."

I jumped out of bad and ran to the door in my sweat pants, Zeppelin t-thirt, and my bed spread draped over my shoulders. Sure enough, he was there waiting, with my favorite kinds of roses and a cup of starbucks coffee. He knows me so well.


Yes, he had left his house in Tampa at 4:15am just so he could be there when I woke up. He then asked me if I would go on an trip with him that day and gave me this:

(Click on the image if you want to see it bigger)

I gathered from this note that our first stop was a garden. We have always loved the Morikami Museum and Park, so I assumed that was where we were going. On way there, we listened to a playlist he had made of some of our favorite songs, including "Do You Realize?" by The Flaming Lips, "The Story" by Brandi Carlile, "Melt with You" by Modern English, "Heroes" by David Bowie, and lots more by Arcade Fire, Damien Rice, Snow Patrol, and Paolo Nutini.

When we got to the Morikami, he took a turn unexpectedly and I realized we were going to a place I had always wanted to go to but could never make it, The American Orchid Society. All of the bolded words on the note were flowers that were in bloom. It was pretty much one of the most beautiful gardens I've ever seen.

After the garden, we went to lunch at Poppies, and walked around downtown Lake Worth for a few hours. Then we had dinner at Cheesecake Factory (sooooooo goood).

As the sun was setting he took me to the beach. There was was a rainbow over the water (not sure how he pulled that one off lol) as he lead me to the place we had our first kiss. Almost 5 years ago, I had dared him to jump in the water fully clothed. Without hesitation, he had walked right into the waves....and lost his glasses in the surf. I had felt terrible for my dare having resulted in that, but he had just walked out of the water and gave me a huge wet hug that lead to our first kiss. Now, he held me there for a few minutes and we laughed about that night. "I have one more clue for you." he said and handed me this:


I looked up with tears in my eyes and said "yes". Few yards behind me a family set off some fireworks. (the coolest coincidence ever!)

Hello again.

It has been about a million years since I last blogged. My last year of college has been significantly better than my last (last) year of college, but that means I have very little time to myself unfortunately.

I have, however, had time to pick up another crafty hobby...like I need more. Behold, my handcrafted soap:







I've been a long time admirer, buyer, and delighter in handcrafted luxury soaps. I'm hoping to make myself a bar that has everything I ever enjoyed in a good bar of soap and possibly someday make that available to others. :-)

What time is it?

I was sleeping. Deep. It sounded like footsteps. Then drums. Then a sharp, thin, hurried heartbeat. Ticking? No, that made no sense. I sleep like death through that clock on my wall every night.

It wouldn't stop. Something in my somnolent senses told me it was indeed a ticking clock, but it was different tonight. I sat up and took a moment to make sure I was awake. I turned on the light and looked at the wall.

It was my clock with its chipped wood frame that had snatched me out of rest. But it wasn't quite ticking, but more....spinning. I shook my head and looked again. Yes, my clock was spinning swiftly past 7:00. I looked over my shoulder through the window and saw nothing but black. I stood and plucked the clock off my wall. The ticking was loud and incessant. Befuddled I scrambled for my digital alarm under my nightstand. It read 3:42am in big blue numbers. I smacked the spinning clock on its side a few times. It kept spinning, even louder and faster now. 7:25. I shook my head. I know I'm awake. I walked across the bedroom to check the time on my phone. My phone greeted me with an eerie little tune before displaying a bright 3:43am in artfully arranged pixels. Ticking and more ticking. I turned around and looked at the swirling clock on my bed. You're the one who's wrong.

I wrenched out that timekeeper's battery and let the warm silence fill the room. I placed the battery gingerly on my nightstand. The dead clock, stilled at 7:43, I buried under the bed.



This morning my sister came in to ask me why I wasn't up yet. I pointed to my digital alarm and groaned "....because it's not time to get up."

"Your alarm is an hour late. Get up."

I sat up with a start. That digital alarm is set automatically by satellite.

I glanced up at the wall. It was naked save for a lone nail where a clock used to hang. I reached under my bed and felt the cold chipped edges of a clock corpse. With sleep slackened fingers, I pulled it out and turned it over.
7:43.
I knew that had been no waking dream.

I popped the battery back in. It ticked.

Slowly.

Odd Dreams

Last night I had such odd dreams...though perhaps that isn't very odd for me. It happens to me often. These were the kind that you need to keep dreaming. The alarm goes off, you hit snooze several times and it never breaks the dream. And you don't keep dreaming because it's fun. No, these dreams were not quite fun, just involved. I had a purpose, things needed to take place, I needed to find something. My head and chest felt heavy, and every time I reached for the alarm the weight pulled be back into suspension of consciousness. It was as if I wasn't allowed to leave until it was done.

Island people were missing and no one knew where they had gone. Cliffs and jagged rocks had sprung up along coast without warning, and I was the only one who had seen them move...the only one who knew they were alive, merely lying in wait. There was some phantom behind all of this. The cliffs were at his command. He was not quite substance, not completely spirit. My chest hurt when he was near and that's how people knew when he was coming. He could only be turned away with words from an old language few people could speak anymore. A few others and myself knew the language. The words stung on your tongue like venom and burned in your throat, but they made the phantom shriek and fly away before he could hurt anyone. Would you leave such a dream just because a little box next to the bed keeps making loud beeping noises?

So I got out of bed a half hour late. No, the dream had not been resolved, so I felt...unfulfilled. My head and chest still felt quite heavy, and my body ached as if I'd had no rest at all.
I've learned that for someone such as myself, a brew known as "coffee" is necessary to maintain consciousness in the waking world. Without it, I'm far too inclined to succumb to the the weight of the world of dreams.

I got into the car 12 minutes late, and took a small moment to hook up my ipod. I may try to stay in the real world as much as I need to, but music reminds me that other worlds should never be forgotten or dismissed.

I was, in fact, on my way to class. To duty. To responsibility. But I felt as though I was driving away from purpose. I'd had that feeling ever since I dragged myself out of bed. On the main road to school, several cars pulled out in front of me and proceeded to drive 10 mph under the speed limit. When I got into the city, I made it to the tracks just in time to sit and wait for the train to creep by. I sighed and turned up the Stones, telling myself I can't always get what I want, by I might find I'll get what I need. It took me another few minutes to realize they had closed off my usual parking lot and i needed to find a new spot farther away. I jumped out of the car, grabbed my books and trudged to class in the reprimanding rain. I glanced at the sky, "What was I supposed to do? Stay in bed? I have class at 10am."

My soggy shoes squeaked down the hall as I tried to brush raindrops off my eyelashes. I looked through the window into the classroom. Empty. I checked my watch. Ten after ten. Slowly, I pushed open the door and read the board:

Dr. Prescott's British Literature
canceled due to professor being sick.
Class will resume on Friday.


I hope someone found out where the Island people had gone.

Just one more year of this. Lord, let it be true. The last two semesters were a complete waste and I'd like to think of this year as a do over, telling myself that last year never even existed. Still, I am faced with this year, and I'll grind my teeth whilst I do whatever it takes to get through it. For some people, college life just seems to work out for them. I am not one of those people. It is not for lack of motivation or desire to learn. It is an odd mix of commuting, working, money (or the lack thereof), and dealing with those who would bring me down.

I have never truly been of this place, nor have I ever really sought to be. Thankfully home is not a place. Home- refuge, warmth, laughter, healing, growth, truth, unconditional love, sacrifice, release...met me here. But it is not here.

He met me at a point of vengeful embitterment, and humbled me with grace and gentleness. He knows my soul, my fire.

He left. He had to. He wanted to find a place to house a home for me. For us.

I grew tired. And weak. And discouraged. I ran away from home. He let me go.

I made the mistake of thinking there were others out there like him. I let myself be used and deceived.

He took me as I was...broken, humiliated, undeserving. He brought me back home. Reminded me of my worth, remembered my fire.


A very wise person once told me to find a man who loves me as Christ loves the church, and marry him.

So I'll go through these last few months. I'll suck it up and just get it done. When it's done, I'll go to the place he's preparing for our home.

Whim

I need to get out of this town again. For good. I'm bored and frustrated out of my sanity. I have half a mind to take the money saved this summer and hop on a train. Tip my hat to PBA and say, "Thank you for introducing me to the love of my life. Keep the rest".

A midnight knock on his door, a smirk on my face, a whisper in his ear. "Pack your bags, love. It's time."

The engine bites off the end of the dark morning hush. Two steaming grandes, black. One blueberry muffin, one banana nut. One map, a full tank, and a handful of stolen kisses. His faith, my fire.

One covenant.

A bit wild? Why yes, yes I am. See, I finally decided to listen to Florida when she rumbles. I've never been too fond of her. Too much competition with the two of us being the way we are. But she told me she loves me. She told me I'm very much like herself. Her thunder always chases each flash and flicker. And me, well. I need to run after my own lightening.

Running away from home? No, you quite misunderstand. I'm taking my home with me.