Christmas Eve

I wish someone... anyone... was here with me. The tree is pretty, but not much of a conversationalist.

Everyone is gone out of town, and Van is keeping his distance, but will show up for dinner tomorrow.

this is me signing out
>> So Lonely tonight.

Le Sigh

Another quote from my beloved You've Got Mail:

"I don't know what to do... in the mean time, I'm putting up more twinkle lights"

Because honestly, when you get to this point, twinkle lights are the only things that make sense... and the only thing that brings along a tiny bit of what happiness must feel like with them.


Lots of twinkle lights tonight! the tree, the windows, anywhere I have enough to put.


I detest the holidays. I always have. But I love the lights.

Thank God for them.

Lofty thoughts

Sitting in the airplane on the way to my grandmother's funeral a couple days ago, I was drifting off to sleep when two poems sprang, almost simultaneously into my head...
One about my past, and the other about my present.

My Past:


You wanted to continue
Even 3000 miles away
You said to me I love you
And convinced my heart to stay
I din't know that you were cheating
And were married all along
That you had bought a house with her
And that she became a mom
The loneliness and the sorrow
You caused me for a year
ended the day that I found out
And I shed not one more tear
The anger helped me heal soon
And I forgave you 'cuz it's right
But I will never forget that wrong
Much worse than endless night.



Presently:

I look at you, my tongue ties up
Although I babble on
And slowly my heart is breaking
At the thought that you'll be gone.
And the hurt of an angry past
Prevents my willing soul
From speaking up and saying you're
One half of my one whole.
And you won't say a word
You never indicate
What it is you feel
Or whether I'm too late.
And so I'll close my eyes
Let tears fall till I sleep -
It seems the greatest thing I've found
Is a secret I must keep.

Au claire de la lune

Open and bright
Glowing so lovely
When the day kisses night
She blossoms

Timid and shy
His light so sweet
She says sad goodbye
And crumples

The shadow hides
The stems and vines
The moon pulls the tides
And her tears

Longs for the sun
Her life it shines
The world weighs a ton
O Moonflower.

So unsure

Have you ever gone swimming
In a doubtful sea?
Thick and dark like an inkpot...
Every hope stained
With a deep, cavernous hue
Every smile dimmed
By a voice unechoed
And so many chances not taken
For fear of drowning

Do you not feel the same;
Or will you rescue me?

Anna Nalick

I love her music.

Especially this song... for some reason it's always stuck in my head, and I'm always humming it or singing it. And not just recently; pretty much ever since I heard it the first time a few years ago... weird. But it's pretty, fun, well written, and the words speak volumes. They're kinda defensive, and have a hint of attitude: like me.

Here it is:

"Consider This"

I've tripped again and things are starting to get interesting
Don't give me choices cause I can't decide
My mind is soaked in words
I've come to terms with all my insecurities
And purity's no friend of mine

And dreaming doesn't do no good
Cause I don't wanna lie
That I'm okay and I'm alright
I'd rather take it and forget it
Consider this a warning
Cause I'll start another fight
And you'll say its all alright
I'll wait for the day when you find I'm too much for you, baby
So lay your hands over me
And feel what you only see
But don't bother wasting your time if you're trying to change me

You're kinda cool but I know better than to break the rules
Of messin' with a lesson that I'll never learn
I'll go from bad to worse and later back to better
But I'll never better bridges that I'm bent to burn

And dreaming doesn't do no good
Cause I don't wanna lie
That I'm okay and I'm alright
I'd rather take it and forget it
Consider this a warning
Cause I'll start another fight
And you'll say its all alright
I'll wait for the day when you find I'm too much for you, baby
So lay your hands over me
And feel what you only see
But don't bother wasting your time if you're trying to change me

This is a warning
This is a warning
This is a warning

And dreaming doesn't do no good
Cause I don't wanna lie
That I'm okay and I'm alright
I'd rather take it and forget it
Consider this a warning
Cause I'll start another fight
And you'll say its all alright
I'll wait for the day when you find I'm too much for you, baby
So lay your hands over me
And feel what you only see
But don't bother wasting your time if you're trying to change me
If you're trying to change me
If you're trying to change me

Well,

Off to the boat soon.

Dear Lord... I know I'll see you out there on the water...

In a way, we sailors, we too walk on water, for months at a time. Working, sleeping, eating, praying.
Every day is like the one before, with little variation. Structured, I call it. Others call it monotonous. But for me, it's like a sweet release. A month out there becomes a single moment in time, where I can take a deep breath of salt-heavy air to clear my head, and sort out all the current craziness in my life. Then, forgetting it all in the rush and attention to detail that is involved in staying alive on a flight deck the hours fly by. Tumbling, whirling the hours become moments and before you know it, you're calling dibs on a shower, and you're soon climbing into a tiny rack. Tiny? well for some. But for my less than five foot two stature, the rack is not tiny. it's perfect. it's my safe haven where I can think about everything without distaction. Where I can reason, argue, see all sides of each story, and finally come to a conclusion. All by myself. A place where I can make decisions to change the things I can, and to accept the things I cannot change.

And a place where I can talk to God.

Like I said, dear Lord... I'll see you out there.

Love, from Dayna

URL

What now silly girl?


how appropriate.

=(

hmph

If you just realized...

dumb song. pretty, but stuck in my head since i just heard it on the way home...

almost there

It's almost time to go home... not home. Not my home. My home is here. I'm going to my parents' home, to my brothers' and sisters' home. To my past.
I mean, it's not like I grew up in that house, but I did grow up in that area; and many of my best friends are there.

hmmm... there's a very old post somewhere in my journal...

let me find it.

ah, here it is. Funny thing is that I wrote it exactly three years ago today! (or yesterday, I guess, since it's after midnight now)

.....

26AUG2005

Current mood:
thoughtful
Current music:
Vertical Horizon -- We Are
Entry tags:
heart
HOME...Where do you think of when you hear the word home? Do you think about the room or the house in which you live? Perhaps a town, a city, or a state? Your parents' residence? Do you think about a school, or a store, book-house, coffee shop? Or do you think about a certain group of friends, or a park, or a picture?Home is where the heart is, or so they say. This is so true... I just thought today about home... Rather, i had to stop and think about where my heart is.This is hard to admit, even to myself. My heart has been right here, in El Centro, with me; right here in my barracks room; right here at work on jets; right here during fod walk-down, and in the hot pits; right here in the ocean-like depths of Navy life. It has not been in Idaho with my family, in Oregon with my friends, in France with my greatest and most beloved teachers... it has not been rooted, either, in the Greatest Good. In realizing this, i became confused. If home is where the heart is, then my home is right here, and the Navy is my home. Certainly, i have said many times that the Navy IS my life... and this seems to be true: it is what I live and breathe.Then why am I happy? If my heart is not with all that went into making me who i am, does that make me ungrateful? i am certainly prideful, i realize that. But really, has it taken me so far?Maybe i'm just imagining things... maybe i really do care so very much about all that. Is it possible that things can come along in life that tend to overshadow all of this? I was in love once; that certainly overshadowed everything.But I thought that love was the only thing that could do that...Perhaps... well, it is possible to be in love, and the object of that love not a person. Right? Perhaps... that may be the answer to my own question.Let me think.

.....


Granted, I was a -relatively- young airman then, and i've grown up some, and changed my ideas a little bit... but i still have the same conjecture i guess. for example me saying the navy is my life... well now it's become a part of my life rather than my be all end all... it's just a part of growing up and growing great...


Well, time to get ready to leave.

eh?

Mais, qu'est qu'il a?

je sais pas.

Ou, je sais, en fait... mais comment dire?

Alors!

Dayna's Musical

But my question is
Will I get it right?
I could just compose
Bad poetry all night
And never once arrive
Where truth lives.

Communication's not my thing
But at least I'm trying;
You were right you know...
If only I could sing
My every single thought
It might be easier.

Well how about that?
Let's sing everything!

And Then?

So, ok.. listen:
I'm not stupid, you know
But sometimes I wonder
Especially when I feel so.
Stubborn? yeah that's me
But what did you expect?
I'll pretend i don't care
And stifle weak regret.
A smile - a laugh
Yeah, so what?
Sometimes
You feel like a nut
Sometimes you don't
Know what I'm saying?
The disappointment inside
Won't keep me from playing.
So anywho... that's
That for tonight.
Maybe more later
Till I get it right.

cloudy eyes and sailing thoughts

Again on watch, as my poetry goes
It seems like my only inspiration these days.
The olympiad sounds from the screen behind
But it's near three am so it's all replays.
If you'll wait a moment, I'll make a note
In the duty log, zero three hundred -- secure
Four and a half hours left, thank god!
Then out of this uniform and in bed for sure.
I'm distracted you know, so much going on
In my head: a constant tornado of sorts;
And I'm exhausted, can't wait for my thoughts
-Dissapointed ships- to secure in their ports.
So, driving home, soon - not soon enough
I'll breathe "Deo Gratias" at the thought of my bed
I so welcome sleep, which keeps me from thinking
And for a moment erases the things that were said.

"Girl Sailor"

This song is by The Shins, whose music I love. Their lyricism is beautiful and appeals to me very much.

But never have I found this song befitting of my personal life. But today it does. right. this. second.

I present to you.... Girl Sailor

EDIT: rather just get the song and listen to it... good music too

edit edit... I found it, so you don't have to look for it.

The gutter may profess its love,
Then follow it with hesitation,
But there are just so many of
You out there for rent

A stronger girl would shake this off in flight,
And never give it more than a frowning hour,
But you have let your heart decide,
Loss has conquered you,

You've won one too many fights,
Wearing many hats every time,
But you wont win here tonight,

You've made it through the direst of straits alright,
Can you help it if plain love now seems less interesting?
You haven't changed an ounce in my eyes,
And I cannot lecture you,

And does anything I say seem relevant at all?
You've been at the helm since you were just five,
While I cannot claim to be more than a passenger,

But, you've won one too many fights,
Wearing all of your clothes at the same time,
Let the good times end tonight,
Oh girl, sail her, don't sink her,
This time,

Just a moment or two from now,
Not a mind will retain even a trace,
Of the thoughts that I struggled to tell
And how our stack of cards just fell,

So settle this once and for all,
The light no longer shows the cracks around my door,
And I have no lantern to light your way home tonight,

You are not some saint who's above,
Giving someone a stroll through the flowers,
You've got so much more to dream of,
Oh girl, sail her, don't sink her,
This time,
This time,
This time.

a Passing Thought.

Why is it that boredom
Is the push that I need
To write anything of substance?

Or rather that tired
Sensation of thought
To stir up creative silt...

Like to sit at the edge
Of the pier, sun-tired
And notice an elusive flash

That jostles the brain
Imagination bulldozer
For an innovative foxhole

well...

The End of Leave

(June 16th, 2005)

Ok, so it's almost four in the a.m....
And I have to leave for the airport in less than an hour
My bags are all finally packed to go
And all i want right now is a nap and a long hot shower.
But I doubt that I'll get either one
Since I've last minute checking around to do
I can't find my cd player anywhere,
And my cd's and both pairs of sunglasses too.

These two weeks went by so quickly,
Way faster than even I was really willing to bet;
And though I'm actually glad to return
I just kinda wish that my fun wasn't over quite yet.
I've been running nonstop since I got here
And as for sleep, well, I guess I'll sleep when I'm dead
But a pillow does sound great about now
As well as the lure of that warm comforting bed.

Just a few more hours left until
I get back to the daily hammer ,chisel, and grind
And although it'll be hot (and work)
I really must say that I don't at all mind.
I'm convinced that I worked harder
On this leave and vacation from work of mine
Than I have in our last month of work
And all in such hurried and exhausting short time!

But now I'm fianally going home
Or at least to the other place I like to call such
And the fun I had here, I'm sure to have there
And although different, I'm sure I'll enjoy it as much!

A Missed Calling

(This is old... from Feb. 27th '06... recently ran across it in my livejournal... it kinda fits tonights reminiscing mood)

So despite what Chrysteen told me, sometimes I feel that I've missed my calling. Today is a lovely day. And as usual, I am filled with joy and satisfaction when I think about where I am and what I am doing: I would rather be no where else than where I am right now. I love my life, I love the navy, I love the work i do for her. But there are days also like today, where there is another current, an underlying one, which whispers in my ear... The doors and windows are thrown wide open to catch the light breeze from the outside, and fill my house with the warm smell of the desert in spring. The sink is full of tepid water, and soaking dishes, and the washer and dryer make the soft clicks and clinks that are their way of putting in their two cents. My toes are cold from stepping on the wet tiles of the kitchen floor which I just washed, and my sleeves are pushed up past my elbows to release the warmth of that workout. A half cup of coffee by my elbow patiently awaits re-heating, as it has been forgotten, along with the rest of the household chores, in deference to one of the two laptops which have taken up permanent residence on the dining room table...Colorful sounds pour out of said laptop, and penetrate every space of the surrounding area. Ah music! How it permeates one's being with hopes and fears, longings, memories, dreams, losses. Elation and depression, all at once. It makes sorrows heavier, and spirits lighter; and chores, easier or harder, depending on whether one chooses to clean with the rhythm, or give in to the urges to dance and sing. Lost in the swirling, dizzying, intoxication brought on by all these sensations, I fall into a dreamland, and suddenly am waiting for the little ones to wake from their naps, so that we can go to the bus stop to greet the older one after school. Dinner is planned, and ready to be started while helping out with homework, and although tired from the days housework and errands, the thought that my love will soon be home stirs up a new energy in me, and calms somewhat the insanity going on inside...And suddenly, jolted out of my daydreams by the overly obnoxious buzz which the dryer decided would best capture my attention, I realize that maybe I missed my calling. But then again, I never met anyone who could help me solidify that hazy hallucination. Maybe... maybe despite my chosen career, I will still live in that world. Someday, maybe...

Someone mentioned Blackberries...

When I was a little girl we used to pick tons of blackberries(and strawberries, and raspberries, and any other kind of berry we could get our small fingers on), and then spend all weekend in the kitchen with mom making and canning preserves. I miss canning. The house always smelled wonderful, and the steam would make the kitchen walls sweat. We little girls, so eager to help out, were probably more in the way than actually of assistance. We'd make ourselves almost sick with the continuous tasting of the jam, and licking of cooled spoons. Once it was finished, and the sun would be dipping down on the horizon, the family would gather on the front porch in the cooling evening, and together we would pray the family's daily rosary, and say the childrens' night-time prayers. Waving hello to the couples taking evening strolls, we'd shout our goodnights to the neighbors and children about in that small Kansas town, and head up stairs to bed while the grown-ups (usually my mother and grandmother, and occasionally my father and perhaps an uncle or two) would stay up late, getting in their time for peace and quiet, and adult conversation.

Standing Watch

I thought about writing tonight,
But haven't got the heart
Waiting on the pale sunlight
Another day to start.

Fighting sleep and dreams
I'll write anyway
My brain with nothing teems
Tired fingers delay.

Forgive these sleepy lines
Better some than none
More in daylight times
For now I'm done.

Looking Up

I listened to a song today
Which echoed in my soul
Vibrating against the walls
Of a dark and empty hole
And hollowly it echoed back
The emptiness therein
But will those echos ever end?
Or where did they begin?
Like the cold night air that rushes
Through the mountains' empty caves
Searching, but never finding
The warm resting place it craves,
This song cours`ed through
And filled my frozen heart
With a colder air, a melody
That makes the soul depart;
And into the realms unknown
Of listlessness and sleep
It falls face down as thrown
Beyond what you call deep
And there remains, deep dreaming
Of a place it once called home
Of warmth and sweetest company
Once by its cold heart known


(20JAN2005)

Good Morning Sunshine

The filtering in of lights
A glimpse of clear blue skies
Some sleepy sense of warmth
And dreams lost to op'ning eyes.

A hearty stretch of limbs
Then like a spring, recoil
Those glowing fingers are trying
This comfy state to spoil.

Oh go away, I'm sleeping
Why must you pester so?
The mounds of blankets and pillows
Tempt me to dive below.

But the golden air is singing
My name in notes so sweet
That finally coaxed away from night
The joyful day I greet.


(11April2006)

Tired and Sad

Now I lay me down to sleep
Hold back the tears
Try not to weep
Grip the pillows close and tight
No one sees it
Just the night.
And if, somehow,I ope my eyes
Convince me, Morn,
That tears are lies.

(08AUG2006)

Cleaning

So, everyone's talking about housecleaning and stuff. I love to clean, especially when I'm sad angry or depressed. It always makes me feel so much better... Cleaning makes me feel like I have control, that I can make the world a better place. It gives me a sense of order, and reponsibility well fulfilled.It's like a war really; Caesar style, planned out carefully, maps/lists drawn, attacks planned, tools inventoried and accounted for (and/or purchased if found wanting). And then when all has been staked out and prepared, when the mops are watered, the infantry fed, windex paired with paper towels, and the vacuum camped near the best positioned outlet, the attack begins! Granted, not every battle is won: there are mini-retreats, here and there, with plans being laid to return; and the enemy sends out distractions to act as countermeasures. The tv distracts the troops, and the laptop is alluring. BUT! They are ready and well prepared for such decoys, and will not let evil prevail! The cleaning will go on! The war will be won! and some sense of fulfillment and content will settle across the land (er, apartment).So speaking of cleaning... I really should do some myself. I would feel worlds better. Too bad I have to get up so early in the morning. There's always tomorrow right?
Goodnight my sometime fans

(08AUG2006)