In Memoriam

Today we remember. While in Mass this morning commemorating those who have died protecting me, and you, and everyone else, I was thinking about them. I don't know anyone who has died in service, though I do know some vets, but it was during the Consecration that it rather struck me - I know that we are all made in the image and likeness of Christ, all supposed to be like him, but somehow, the veterans completed that task in a way we don't often think of. Christ gave his body for us - they gave their body for us as well. Christ shed his blood, and so did they. Too often we forget that the reason we are safe today is because of them. Our men and women give up their families and friends an their lives for people they don't even know. When I looked at the news this morning, I saw that a politician had apologized for a sex comment, and that Brad Pitt had said he used drugs. We don't see that men and women in our state died today protecting us, even on Memorial Day. We're expected to be interested in and remember the bad deeds of the celebrities, and we can't seem to remember the good ones of the army because they don't flaunt themselves. They don't ask for our attention - but they deserve it.
So, I'm going to give you a list of names now. These are men and women who died this month while serving our country. Don't forget them because you don't know them - they didn't forget you.


Sgt. Eugene Aguon. 23 years old

Spc. Dwayne Flores. 22 years old

Sgt. Trenton L. Rhea. 33 years old

Capt. Sarah Knutson. 27 years old

Capt. Victoria Pinckney, 27 years old

Capt. Brandon Cyr, 28 years old

These are six of over 200 people who died this month alone. We Whitney Houston's death went worldwide. No one mourns these but their families and friends - and now, me, and hopefully you.
No quote today - just remember.
-Rhian

On Dreams

Given my blog's name, you think I'd know a lot about dreams. Actually, they confuse and astound me as much as the rest of you - that is, if we're talking about the same kind of dream. Technically, dreams have two classes - daydreams, and just ordinary dreams. Though I'm an ardent daydreamer, its the latter I speak of now. Dreams are confuzzling and sometimes terrifying, though usually just plain weird. If someone could get a good look at my dreams, I'd be shut up in an insane asylum and never let out. I probably deserve to be there right now anyway, but I'd prefer not to be.
The one thing about dreams that you have at night is that you can rarely remember them - or at least, that's the feedback I usually get. Speaking for myself, I remember almost all of my dreams, and the strangest ones I write down so that I can always remember them. Though, actually, when it comes to me, if I remember a dream, I remember it. Forever. And ever.
Dreams are difficult. When you get nightmares, they shake you, and half the time you don't ever know why. I had a nightmare when I was about six, and I still remember every detail. Though I'm no longer scared of it in my waking hours, if it would happen to revisit me some night, I'm sure I would be as frightened as I was when I was young. Another difficulty with dreams is relaying them to people. They don't get how you felt in them. There's a difference between you being able to relate the dream, or live it. You are the only one who will ever be able to know how amazing it felt when you flew, or how confused you were when the blonde twins with the tranquilizer pens told you they knew your secret name, or how satisfied you were when your Aunt turned into a charm bracelet, or how crushingly sad it was to die and be reincarnated twenty years later, so all of your friends are grown up, or how terrifying it was when your dad put on a demented duck mask and began killing people...ok, see what I mean about being locked up? And those are just a few..
So what brought this on, you ask? Well, its because I dreamed last night. Aside from corn stalks that grew ice cream cones and a t-rex pillaging my town, something happened in it that hasn't happened for about a year, and only the second time it's ever happened to me. I've had boyfriends in dreams before, but they're practically always famous people, characters, or sometimes even boys I know. No, only in this dream and one a few months ago have I met someone I truly felt in love with - and it ended when I woke up.
I've never met the other guy again in a dream, so maybe I won't meet this one...but maybe I will. Because somewhere they're both in my subconscious, and maybe they'll pop up somewhere, sometime. So my advice to you today is - write down your dreams before you forget them. They make for laughs and a whole lot of memories and feelings of the impossible that are precious to you alone. 
"You know that place between sleep and awake? The place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you. That's where I'll be waiting." - Peter Pan
-Rhian

On The Vacation From Boo

The title is my Dad's idea, using my personal favorite interjection as a noun instead of it's usual verbal, adjectival or exclamatory uses. 
As most of you know, we left for a beautiful vacation in our favorite vacation site ever - Glen Arbor in Northern Michigan. It was to be a week long visit, Monday to Monday.
Operative word being "was".
From night number one, problems seemed to stick to us like flies to the fly paper. Mom, of course, had pregnancy sickness, and Dad's allergies always plague him this time of year, so Mom had forewarned us that this vacation would be different.
Little did we know just how different it would be.
I caught a nasty cold on the way up, consisting mainly of a headache and sore throat. It rained. And rained again. And rained again. Cold and misty it was, blocking our sunny lake from view. The first night, Dad didn't sleep - apparently the pollen is worse up here. So on day two, Dad went to find a hotel, which meant that he couldn't sleep in the same house, or even be in it for more than a couple of hours, which cut down our time with him. Mom got worse, and just as things seemed to be clearing up yesterday, I was struck mercilessly with some sort of add-on to a cold that I've never heard of, which makes my throat and digestive system inflamed and swollen, resulting in very shallow breaths and an inability to swallow anything. This morning it moved to one side of my throat only, so that cleared up a bit - only to have Dad declare he couldn't stand his allergies anymore.
So here we are, going home four days early.
I can vaguely relate with Adam and Eve on being expelled from Paradise. But you thought this post was just to complain, didn't you? Wrong. It's to point out how good it is to count our blessings. I got to finish the stinking book I've been plowing through for the sole reason of getting it over with, which means I get to move on to another. We got to spend a decent amount of time as a family, and what's more, today cleared up, and I spent some time in the freezing water, which never seems to bother me anyway. We got to go to our favorite town, and we got to laugh and love together, however sick we are. And we get to finish our vacation at home (so don't expect me to be online very much). So I'm going to use a famous phrase, because I think it applies well (tweaked slightly to fit the circumstances):
"Beg not for the four days you did not have - be thankful for the four days that you did." 
Can't wait until next year.
-Rhian

On the Reliability of Online Quizzes and a bit of a shock at my writing...

Sometimes you want to believe what they tell you, sometimes you don't. For example, they declare that my favorite color is white. Sorry, it's blue (white isn't even technically a color, right?). Survive 387 days in the zombie apocalypse? I'd probably be the first zombie (though I'd like to think I wouldn't - see what I mean?) In the Harry Potter books I'm most like (wait for it) Hermione, Luna, Harry, George  Bellatrix and Dean Thomas. They couldn't seem to decide on one...also, I'd be crowned victor of the Hunger Games. (I think they just say that to everyone). I'm mostly likely to hook up with Agent Coleson from the Avengers (o.0), my vintage actress is Audrey Hepburn (!! :D), I'm destined to marry Taylor Lautner (could do worse, I guess...) and last but not least (though my least favorite result), I write like Stephanie Meyer.
It's one of those "wut?!?" moments. I always honestly thought when it came to stories I kinda sucked at writing, but overall my style was the most like Suzanne Collins (though I'd hope my story-lines are a bit more wholesome and my characters more likable, no offense to you Hunger-Gamers out there). Apparently not - I put in six different entries, and the majority came up as Miss Meyer. Seeing as I've never bothered to read Twilight, I suppose I can't judge, but I certainly began to doubt the reliability of my quiz - will I write bestsellers with sucky storylines, or stick to my own style and never win big? I guess we'll find out if I ever finish a book on my own...
"Computers are usless. They can only give you the answers." - Picasso. Sucky guy, sucky quote, and sometimes, as proven, computers give wrong answers, in which case they aren't really answers in the first place. 
-Rhian
P.S. You know something funny? I put the above post into the quiz, and it said I wrote like J.K. Rowling...my reliability on its answers just sunk like an elephant baby tied to a bowling ball...

On Spring

When someone thinks spring, there can be a variety of what first pops to the head. For my Dad, it's warmth weather allergies, and time-to-put-the-kids-to-work. For most people, its the end of winter and flowers. For me, it means mostly those things combined, along with complete stress over the play, and then a bout of suffering form PPD. Sometimes Michigan seems to skip Spring all together, giving us summer in April and then another week or two of winter before dropping the sun on us. But I was pleasantly surprised this year to find that Jack Frost seems to have left until at least September, and Sol turned down his rays a bit so that they didn't scorch the apple and cherry trees like last year. 

Yes, Mother Nature decided to wake up on schedule (though Old Man Winter did have his second coming, as usual). Even though Spring has always been my least favorite season, it's still amazing. Spring has been called the month of love, and while I personally have never experienced why exactly that is, I'm sure someone has, because it got called that at some point in history. To me, Spring is more like the Magic Month, as I call it, especially May. 

M.M.M., as we shall call it, has a way of sneaking up on me, especially since either its first or second week involves rushing around because the play is happening. It's during tech week that our flowers always seem to grow, and I always seem to miss it, but at least they're there when we get back, and the iris' and peonies never bloom until late May anyway, so those are reserved for my pleasure.

So why magic? Well, if you've read my previous posts, you'd know that cultures believed in fairies bringing the seasons. Obviously Faries used magic, and when you think about it, it is pretty amazing when one day you're lawn is soggy and nasty and the next green ( I don't know if that happens outside of Michigan, but seeing as that's where I live, I'm going to use it as the standard). God created Nature utterly amazing, and the reason I love spring is because you've spent four months of cold, and then suddenly everything warms, and one can go poking one's nose into flowerbeds and watch and wait for the green leaves and grass to give way to summer days and nights.

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the world around you, because the greatest secrets are hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." - Anonymous. Most of my quotes are anonymous. 

-Rhian

Book list for Iris :)

Here we go. My goal is to have read all of those "you-haven't-read-that?" books by senior year. As I'm going into junior, I've gotten a decent start, but here is what I'm planning for the summer.








No, I haven't read this one yet. I know, it's pathetic.



or these, which is even pathetic-er, if that's a word.


This one I have read, but I was about seven and didn't understand a word of it.








Chances are it won't be the 50th anniversary edition, but that's the one I had a picture of.


still deciding if I'm going to do this one, but I figured I'd put it it up anyway.


Should have read this a long time ago





I'm gonna read the whole series, but I only put the first one up here.

So I'll see how far these take me, then maybe I'll get the guts to read something like War and Peace or the Grapes of Wrath. Or the picture of Dorian Grey. If I die during this summer, you'll know it's because I read that and the fright was too much for me.
"We read to know that we are not alone: - C. S. Lewis
-Rhian