Greetings from the tail end of summer!
As my presence on the net has been most conspicuously missing, I will try the reserve and turn out a flood of postings. Readers, beware.
Had a most successful outing to library, where I finally registered for a new card (old one was accused to borrowing medical texts~was required to pay more than 200$ in lost fees, which I refused to do) and took out dozens of audiobooks and other magical things to stimulate my brain. Amongst (among? I tried googling but found no convincing answer) the items on loan are: North and South (TV series a la P&P 1995 BBC series), a critically acclaimed Marcel Proust bio (in book form, these things, aka – less popular topics in less popular genres, are mostly restricted to text form; which is not a bad thing necessarily, just less accessible), Beloved by Toni Morrison, Freedom by Jonathan Franzen (I’d bought a reference book sized paperback copy of The Corrections and found myself quite engaged. I do think that you need to be “in the mood” for his fiction), Everything is Illuminated by JSF (DUH, can’t believe I waited this long) and A Single Man by Chistopher Isherwood (which I’d already devoured several times in text form). [Side note: people who know me will know that I’ve also spent a good chunk of time ORGANIZING my newly stuffed itunes, a habit enforced by my very OCDness.]
These are just a few from my harvest. I saw The Road (by Cormac McCarthy, which I LOVE LOVE LOVE) but decided I needn’t more depression, paranoia or anxiety in my life at the moment. I will sit through the movie adaptation (somewhat faithfully and heartbreaking performed by Viggo Mortensen) in order to spread the story to a new audience (my Mom, for instance, this past summer. We had a dinner reservation by I came across the showing on TV while treadmilling and asked her to watch it. We ended up with bloodshot eyes. The same thing occurred for A Single Man, without the water works, but the feeling remained the same).
I’ve been reading and writing non-stop these past few months, and while my brain feels deepfried most of the time, I’ve never felt more rewarded personally. It’s a great to be selfish once in a while and be a hermit and just do what you want. If not for the looming cloud above my head, I couldn’t be happier. I dislike talking about unhappiness, firstly because it causes me further discontent; secondly because it’s loading a ton of crap and “oh, comfort me in my time of need” onto the unfortunate audience. I suppose my preferred brand of ears is paper, or a blank document-both of which have no expectations and vice versa. Just a dump, really, but a passive one-and that’s the kind I usually need. I really am tired of people constantly telling me where I’ve gone wrong and what I should’ve done and what nots. My ego gets beaten enough by itself, thanks. Thanks not to say I’m not appreciative of all the intelligent, non-condesending and thoughtful remarks I’ve also gotten. But those are hard to come by, if at all in (in this cynical world). [I had to add those last 3 clichéd words to qualify my meaning.]
I’m cooking a lot these days; everyday, in fact. mostly because it’s summer and I try to help my dad out with chores however I can. I made a suspicious looking noodle dish yesterday with black beans, onions, and green peppers in a thick beef sauce that was quite edible. It’s a challenge to think of things to cooks, because i never shop by recipe, just by whatever looks good at the grocery store-meaning I mostly improvise.
I’m a bit tired and I have a few more posts planned–so adieus for now.
PS. I’ve been urged to upgrade to Safari 5.1–huh. I’ve downloaded the setup file, hope it doesn’t bust anything.
PPS. In relation to my itunes OCDness–i should explain that I’m incapable of just listening to music (which is why non-classical stations are the bane of my existence). I am always in a specific mood, whether it’s cheerful (ha!), thoughtful (often), resentful (after encounters with a certain adult), romantic (mostly due to new obsessions and such), or even just “vagueness”. I require my music to reflect whatever I’m feeling at the time. If not, i get irritated–my analogy to that if having a complete mismatch of a movie soundtrack. You can’t have a tearful seen but blast “I’m Walking On Sunshine” (from every diaper commercial in existence, the most aggravating tune.) It really is just because I’m that OCD, anal, and selfish. But I respect and am aware of my surroundings and have them be blissfully unaware of my nonesensicalness by wearing headphone. Now, if that’s not the most ignorant grammatical, run on sentence, i don’t know what it.
PPPS. The above explains the multitude of playlists named after specific emotions and moods and random events such as “roadtrip” “shopping” “reading” (I bought a CD that accompanies readings at Barnes and Noble this summer for 2 bucks. it’s actually pretty great.)
PPPPS. The same goes for non music audio. There’s comfort audiobooks, there’s adventure, there’s thoughtful, there’s beach junk, there’s classical, there’s guilty pleasure radio (in the form of Karl Pilkington). Most of the time I am only have about 6 whole books with me because my itouch is woefully limited at 32GB
PPPPPS. The same applies to my bookmarks. My saving grace is that I don’t not, even in the slightest, expect such levels of hysteria or control-freakness from anyone other than myself. although if does annoy me if their lack of organization wastes time or energy on my part constantly.
PPPPPPS. Why doesn’t wordpress auto cap-my “i”s?