Network

I don't know why I'm
It's the middle of the night

I just had the most horrifying nightmare.

I understand everything now
Mount Doom
It's all my fault

I find it amusing and intriguing that, even after being in the country for almost twenty years, I have not managed to lose my accent. Some studies show that if you learn a language later in life, you will never be able to shake your native accent while speaking it.

Oh, I can imitate an American accent perfectly well, from Bostonian to Texan, but when I relax and speak as I normally do, that little bit of Eastern European sneaks in.

I always forget about the hangover until it's too late. Urghhh.

My dreams are just the funniest cutest things ever! They have dragons and griffons and magic. And a whole lotta apples! Mostly I just fly around and watch stuff, but don't really help out much. That's okay, I guess. I'm kind of clumsy for a flying pony.

I WISH I COULD FLY HERE LIKE I DO THERE. :< It would be soooo fun.

I know the signs. I know the warnings. I'm disconnecting. Detaching.

I barely feel human most days.

I feel like I'm waiting for something.

Spring always makes me listless.

Since no one else is actually going to say it, I'm going on record right now as it being 'too quiet' again.

Just so we can get the next crisis out of the way before the wedding, okay? Saves time in the long run.

Back to the pharmacy on Monday. They were nice enough to give me an extra couple of weeks for my maternity leave since Charlie was born early, but now it's time to go start bringing home the bacon. I'm going to miss spending my days with that little ginger, but a girl's gotta work.

Dear network,

If you could travel anywhere in the world and spend a year there exploring and settling into the way of life, where would it be?

Follow up question: Why did you chose this place?

Love,
Luna Scamander

The big news this week: We bought a goat for the farm. Now we can start making our own cheese and selling the milk and stuff at the farmer's market. Guess who's responsible for said goat? Yeah, I am.

I know I haven't talked a lot about my dreams on here. They're really personal and kind of dark so it never seemed like I should, but something weird started happening to me this week. I've never baked a piece of bread in my life and I just got the sudden urge to give it a try so I did. I swear to you I made the most amazing cheesy bread I've ever tasted. It's insane, but I'm really good at it. I was good at it in my dreams too. Coincidence?

These things are weird. So yeah, a blog, right.

I've never really done the whole blog thing and I don't give much of a shit about hash tags. I wasn't really sure what that was until last week when someone was talking about a couple naming a child hash tag. What? Anyway, so this blog thing sounded fun. I don't know why, but maybe my social life has been lacking. I'm Jace, and I work in a music store, and even that gets boring sometimes. I sound like an idiot, great!

I do have a question. Why is everyone talking about dreams? I don't even remember my last dream. Weird.

( Just cut to save your screen from pictures, everyone can see it. )

Goddamn. They don't tell you that waking up from a coma hurts like the fucking devil. It feels like all of my muscles got hit with a bat, and I was only out for three days.

But that's not actually my news. My news is that I found a school that will let me train as a midwife while I go parttime to get my degree. I want to work here at the ranch more, and be with my daughter. Sure, it might not be as fabulous as curing cancer, but I want to work with teenage moms. I think it'll be more rewarding.

I'm still trying to figure out where Herrick is worse. My dreams or real life. Of course, in my dreams he actually hurts people. He's just as manipulative as in real life, but to my knowledge he hasn't killed anyone in real life.

Last night, I dreamt that it was the sixties and I'd begun to resist my vampire nature. At one point Herrick wanted me kill a girl we'd lured into our car, but I couldn't do it and let her go. I told Herrick that she escaped, but it was obvious he didn't believe me. Sometime later, we killed two girls in a flat and he left me to do the clean up and while I was leaving, the police showed up and I wound up taking this girl, who lived downstairs, hostage. Surprisingly she wasn't afraid of me once she realized that I was more afraid of being found out. Her name was Josie and apparently we dated for sometime after that. She was good for me. She helped me.

It's still strange, dreaming of different time periods. My clothes in some of the dreams have been mad. My hair in 1969 was scary. I'm not looking forward to the eighties.

Whoever sent the flowers, they were really sweet. Nice for an old lady to get on her birthday. Surprised nobody's sent me pot.

ETA: After I say that, two people sent me pot. Nice shit, too. I appreciate it.

Why yes, dear neighbours, I think this time of night is the perfect time to prune my roses.

The moon is bright, the air is lovely, and I'm hardly making any noise. Well perhaps a little light singing here and there, but not at full volume, anyway.

Diurnal people are strange.