'Farewell now here, ye leaves of trees,
your music in the morning-breeze!
Farewell now blade and bloom and grass
that see the changing seasons pass;
ye waters murmuring over stone,
and meres that silent stand alone!
Farewell now mountain, vale and plain!
Farewell now wind and frost and rain,
and mist and cloud, and heaven's air;
ye star and moon so blinding-fair
that still shall look down from the sky
on the wide earth, though Beren die -
though Beren die not, and yet deep,
deep, whence comes of those that weep
no dreadful echo, lie and choke
in everlasting dark and smoke.

'Farewell sweet earth and northern sky,
for ever blest, since here did lie,
and here with lissom limbs did run,
beneath the moon, beneath the sun,
Luthien Tinuviel,
more fair than mortal tongue can tell.
Though all to ruin fell the world,
and were dissolved, and backward hurled
unmade into the old abyss,
yet were its making good, for this -
the dawn, the dusk, the earth, the sea -
that Luthien on a time should be!'

His blade he lifted high in hand
and challenging alone did stand
before the threat of Morgoth's power;
and dauntless cursed him, hall and tower,
o'ershadowing hand and grinding foot,
beginning, end, and crown and root;
then turned to stride forth down the slope,
abandoning fear, forsaking hope.

'A, Beren, Beren!' came a sound,
'almost too late have I thee found!
O proud and fearless hand and heart,
not yet farewell, not yet we part!
Not thus do those of elven race
forsake the love that they embrace.
A love is mine, as great a power
as thine, to shake the gate and tower
of death with challenge weak and frail
that yet prevails, and will not fail
nor yield, though vanquished were it hurled
beneath the foundations of the world.
Beloved fool! escape to seek
from such pursuit; in might so weak
to trust not, thinking it well to save
from love thy loved, who welcomes grave
and torment sooner than in guard
of kind intent to languish, barred,
wingless and helpless him to aid
for whose support her love was made!

~The Lay of Leithian

New things:

It appears that I will be getting a green-cheek conure soon, possibly a yellow-sided; right now I am preparing by ensuring area safety, obtaining a cage, and researching, researching, researching. Currently I am busy replacing all Teflon and non-stick cookware in the Lounge with stainless steel to prevent poisoning, and also making a list of possible names. I am quite seriously thinking of Haleth or Finrod.

I will soon be putting a second cage of birds in the Lounge. Right now I am undecided between doves, finches, and parakeets: the benefit of the former is that they can be handled, and make soothing sounds, but the finches are certainly more entertaining to watch. Either way, I also need to get the cage for those soon, and then make a trip to the feed store.

I am registered for 20th Century Philosophy, and waitlisted for several other classes; luckily I am first on the list for most of them, and third for the other. It appears as if I will be taking yoga this semester as well.

I have been doing a good deal of writing, both fanfic and original, and have come to the conclusion that I am slowly acquiring DID (see this post). Also, as I am rewriting large sections of Genesis, the Gospels, and Revelations to fit in a fantasy/science fiction world, I am feeling vaguely heretical - but have decided that said feelings are because of popular conventions and not my actual beliefs of the Bible, so now feel guilty for feeling heretical. Besides which, it's fun. And restructuring a number of fantasy stereotypes from the ground up is also fun.

In writing my stories, I have also been prompted to debate the nature of life, the universe, and everything. My current question runs along these lines: if the soul is eternal, then did it not exist before life? And if so, then why bother being born at all? What value does it have? Probably I will post more on that later.

My friends are mostly gone now, except for the ones at StanState, whom I will hopefully be seeing next Monday at a potluck. I am debating the wisdom of trying to make new friends considering that I will be leaving in another year anyways. As of yet I am undecided. Perhaps I will simply locate my own apartment overseas and bring my conure with me.

So many people, so lost you feel sorry
but too much pathos just makes you angry
and even though I know who loves me I'm not that much less lost....

I really, honestly, truly cannot wait for the semester to start. I need to get away, and at least the Lounge is quiet. And the people there don't laugh when you're not joking about making one of your fantasies real.

Do Not Disturb: Denning In Process

I'm pretty sure it's not some weird biological clock, ticking insistently away, coming to get me like Captain Hook's crocodile. But then why does everyone think I'm just going through some kind of weird phase or fad? I'm not - at least I don't think I am. If it is, then it's been one of the longer ones I've had.

It's just.... I want a place, a home. A permanent one. One that I don't have to look at and say, "Well, this sucks. Why did I do this again?" And even more, one where I can say, "This is mine, and I'm not moving. I might travel for a little while, but this is mine, and I'm coming back to it." Is that so much to ask? Everybody rattles on and one about how "home is where the heart is" and how a house without a family is empty, and really Breeann what are you thinking anyway moving so far away, are you trying to avoid us, you know how hard it is to come visit you when you're so distant.... But I'm not trying to avoid anyone; I just don't like the area here at all. I don't like the air, I don't like the land, I don't like the buildings or the cars or the obscene morbidity on the news, and maybe if I move someone will come with me, or if they don't then I can start my own pack, my own den.

And it's not just a fantasy. I like the open spaces: I like being away from the mass of people. Not all people: I want my family around me: I need them. But the crowd. The cars. The rude looks and scowls when I walk down the street. The cats and dogs lying on the side of the road (so senseless, that, I hate it, there is no purpose to it, no benefit, none at all) and the people who pretend not to see them while they lay there for the day, and the next day, and the next, until finally some city official or maybe a hungry feral dog drags it away. I don't want to be in the middle of it all the time. Occasionally, when I choose to be - there are good things to be had from it, too. But not all the time. Only sometimes. Every blue moon, maybe.

And it's not impossible, either. I know - I've studied it, looked at the land, the prices, the costs of building a home that is large enough and strong enough to contain generations of people, the job potentials in remote areas, or small ones. It doesn't have to be Utah - look at any of the open areas, Montana or Nebraska or most of the Midwest. The wind and sun will provide all the electricity one could ever hope for, and still channel more into the public webs. A hunting license will bring you all the meat you could eat in ten years, let alone one. The cost is ridiculously small - cheaper by far to build a home than to buy, if the price of the land is right - and it is! No need to worry about gangs or city-wide fires or muggers in the night. Silence when you lay down, and the birds when you wake, and the dogs demanding their food. Is it such wishful thinking? I know that it is only a different set of hardships, but it is a more bearable one, at least to me.

Am I really so crazy?

Well, I'm officially in to 20th century philosophy, need Jim's signature to register to the Honor's one, and am waitlisted in calculus and chemistry. Meh. At least I'm #5 in the calc class and #1 in the rest; otherwise I would be frightened. As is, I think I'll probably get in.

Oh, and I'm considering taking yoga, just for the stress relief.

...And then I went looking for class schedules at Stanislaus, and found that not only did half the classes I needed to take conflict with each other, but also that most of the classes already were full. I am only grateful that half of them aren't, and a good few still have plenty of space. But then again, if I take Botany this semester I cannot take calculus.... Everything is very confused, and I have absolutely no idea if I am taking an Honor's course or even which courses, exactly, I am taking. Ai!

I really, really, really wish that they hadn't screwed up the paperwork, because right now it's screwing up my attempts at getting any kind of decent system....

So last night, Josh and I were chatting in the back seat of the church van on the way home from the CC staff concert, mostly because nobody else was - I think they might have been scared of us, but I'm not quite certain. Maybe it was the seeming obsession with fanfiction that threw everyone off, and the strange terms like Sue-ism, OC (not to mention OOC), and crossover. Who knows? Anyway, Josh got around to mentioning that he had an idea for a fic that he'd like to read. "Like what?" I remember asking.

"Oh, well, you know, if the giant squid got the Ring," he said. Yes, you read that right: giant squid. Specifically, the one that lives in the lake at Hogwarts - and also the one that showed up in the lake at the entrance to the Mines of Moria. Not particularly plausible, right?

Well, that's what I thought, too. So I pointed that out, and surprisingly he didn't actually take umbrage or even laugh. Instead, he began explaining to me exactly how it would work, and the ramifications if, as it took the Ring, it switched Harry and Frodo around at the beginning of Harry's first year. He had it thought through pretty well. Eventually he actually managed to convince me that it could work - and, as some of you might know, I take some convincing when people are playing around with Tolkien's stuff!


So here's to you, little brother: I hope you write it. I hope it turns out well. And way to go!

Well, after ungraded major projects, misfiled reports, lost mail, fumbled communications, and much else gone awry - it looks as if I'll be at StanState this year, and Bristol the year after. C'est la vie!

From a notebook, written the evening of Tuesday the 31st of July...

The pilot announced that we are in a holding pattern. We're circling the airport now, up above most of the clouds, and it is one of the most incredible scenes I've ever seen. We're flying through lightning, and it lights up the clouds so bright it hurts - and then we circle again to see the full moon, and I swear I have never seen it so bright. The light is actually piercing, near to the sun at noon, so that you can barely look when it is not behind a cloud: so beautiful it is painful. The clouds that should be darkly invisible are lit from it, and shine back silver-white in streamers and soft trailing edges - like angels singing lullabies come to give peaceful dreams. It is like nothing I have ever seen before, even in a picture, but it is the distillation of peace. And we swing round, and the lightning lights everything, and it is so simply and achingly incredible...

For how great is the Lord,
that He should set lights in the sky and command them to shine!
The angels fly with the lightning and sing praise to You;
they dance in the thunder and clap their hands.
I am in awe of Your works;
the loveliness of Your creation steals my breath away.
You laugh, and the air is set ablaze with light.
The heavens give voice; what else can I do?
I can only marvel.
You say, Let there be light!
The earth trembles and the heavens leap forth, eager to do Your bidding.
The storm is Your joy and the thunderstorm Your laughter; I will take joy in Your awesome delight.