We've MOVED!!!

I have loved my page here at mainer4life.blogspot.com over the last year and a half, but I am so excited to let you all know that Scintillate has MOVED TO WORDPRESS. This has been in the works for a little while now, so you'll find a few new posts as soon as you visit me there, with many more to come!

www.sarainelli.wordpress.com is the new address!

Hallå

"Hello in Swedish" and welcome back to Scintillate! I have taken a rather long break from blogging, but I really missed writing so I’ve returned. Of course, I always planned to come back eventually. Last year my “summer break” stretched from June until December...at least this year I left Scintillate for a mere three months in comparison. Hopefully next year I won’t neglect my blog at all!

Vacation Bible School

Oh, the joys of Vacation Bible School. As a child, those delights included: a single moment of undivided attention from the favorite character...pretzel rods smothered in frosting and mini chocolate chips...redeeming beans for ring pops and/or dollar store toys...learning the hand motions better than anyone so that when you find yourself the tallest, most awkward kid at the ending program you are sufficiently prepared to sing stridently and hand motion like a boss in front of your parents...etc. etc. etc.

A Week To Remember

I've been feeling immensely crummy and just plain sad lately, because with all my fab summer dreams I can't look forward to Hume New England this year. So I dug up an old piece of creative writing from the early 2011 school year (therefore keep in mind i was fifteen)...back when Hume New England was called New England Keswick. My experiences at Keswick/Hume changed me forever. The weeks spent there were some of the best of my life...which explains why I have four different Hume t-shirts. For all y'all who know exactly what I'm saying and why I love Hume so much: I miss you guys. Have fun this summer, i'll wish I was there...

To Write A Wrong

We all have those books that we just could not put down. If you haven't read a book like that, then you need to go find a page-turner. Right now. This very moment.
A good mystery never disappoints. Never, ever.
Before Monday night, I hadn't read a book for pleasure in...months, probably. So, a little before midnight (yeah, I'm a night owl) I cracked open "To Write A Wrong" (second installment of the Justice Seekers Novels) by Robin Carroll. It was a good book. A great book, actually. I read it from the first page to the last in one sitting. At 5 a.m. I was like, dang...i guess that was a really great book. It wasn't some 1000 page accomplishment, and my mother probably would have preferred I spend the wee hours reading Les Miserables (or...sleeping), but 300 pages in one sitting is possibly my new record. At the very least, it rivals whatever record I set on the last Alabama roadtrip.
So, stop reading my crap writing and go pick up a real novel!
It's summer! Time to relax with a glass of lemonade and a real good read.

The Lord Blesses the Frugal

Ha! To all of my shopping buddies (that means you, Rach) who have been endlessly annoyed by my frugal ways: i win. I may deliberate a little too much over five dollar purchases, I may insist too often that we "check the thrift stores first", I may be way too excited when I get >50% off...but nobody can argue against the deals I get. Being frugal isn't about being cheap. Being frugal is about being smart. There is plenty of dignity in the sale racks at the mall, thank you very much.
And let's talk about thrifting. I am both a name brand snob and a proud owner of a Goodwill rewards card. (yes, i am aware Goodwill is not a legitimate charity...but honestly, I ain't shopping for charity.) See, being frugal isn't about dressing in oversized coca-cola t-shirts from Salvation Army. Being frugal is about finding the treasures in the dump. I look through everything in the thrift stores...sometimes I don't find anything. I suck it up and move on with my life...but my favorite $2 lime green fleece blanket, the $7 green Aeropostale vest hidden among the lint-laden sweatshirts, the $4 nike shox bball shoes, my flawless $3 Gap cardigan, and the $6 New York and Co. coat make it all worth it. Let me illustrate something for you...

Once upon a time, there was a seventeen year old whose pursuit of happiness led her to Target. She had a craving for new summer clothes&colors, and target had the perfect products. Shorts, cross-body bags, dresses, t-shirts, etc. etc. etc. But alas, being poverty stricken, she had no extra cash.

So, I went to Goodwill. I guess Target must have recently given them a donation or something, because I found 2 pairs of shorts that I had tried on at Target and the exact cross-body bag I had been considering purchasing. Each would have cost over twenty bones at Target. All three items were at Goodwill, and all three were new with tags. Score! $4 each for the shorts, and $10 for the neon orange purse. 'Twas a good day for me. In all, I got six quality tank tops, three pairs of shorts, a cross-body bag, and an iPod case for a grand total of $35.

Be jealous.

Kodiak modeling my new, bright orange cross-body bag. (the strap lengthens, obviously)

The Elusive Phenomenon of Dreams

When the Downes were visiting last week, we discussed some of the weird qualities of dreams. Recurring dreams, dreams in single colors, dreaming about objects (and then waking up to realize you weren't actually holding your phone, for example), etc. etc. etc.

My mom has an interest in dream interpretation, on a side note, but I'm not going into that.

What about the setting in your dreams? Where does it all take place? Sometimes, the next morning I couldn't tell you where I was in my dream...probably because it was irrelevant. Sometimes, I can't recall any physical landmarks to connect my dream to a particular place, but I could easily tell you, "I was in Alabama", or "I was at church", or "I was at home". You know what I'm saying? I hope so. My dreams aren't anything crazy unusual, so I'm sure you understand what I'm getting at. 

Well. A few nights ago I had a dream. I don't remember exactly what the dream was about, but it had something to do with my dog...Kodiak was endangered somehow, I think. I did remember the events and details when i first woke up, but I didn't write anything down, so...oops. I do recall the setting, because it caught my attention. Throughout the dream, I was at home. Easy. I remember being in my room and just...being at home. Yet, when I woke up, I realized I had been in the Bangor house. I was a little confused to wake up and find myself in Berwyn. Weird, right?

So, that got me thinking about all this. Home is where the heart is. I know that is a pretty non-scientific statement to include in this post about the nature of dreams, but...just consider that cliche. Do dreams come from the brain or the heart? Are they spiritual or can they be physically explained? I have no answer to that. Scientists don't even understand the "elusive phenomenon of dreams"...or the purpose of sleep, FYI, but that is a rabbit trail to be explored another time. My question is: If I've been living in Berwyn for six months, then why didn't that register in my dreams? Everything I say from here on out is purely speculation. (Heck, everything I've said is purely speculation). If my dreams are a function of the brain, then you would think that my home would be Berwyn. If my dreams are more...I don't know, emotionally driven...then maybe that would explain this fact: My unconscious still associates home with Bangor. My heart is still in Maine. Not because I hate Illinois, but...because I love and miss Maine with all of my heart. That is the way it is. Give me time, but for now my home is still on Grant St...even if not my address. I've been in denial, trying to become a Chicagoan and embrace this new place, but it would seem that my heart knows what's up. 

Dreams don't lie.

Maybe I miss Maine even more than I know.