An Unorganized Post

I'm not quite sure what I want to blog about, but I haven't really blogged in a while.


Conflicted. I'm very conflicted right now. It's not even important....just inner turmoil caused by ambiguity. It's really my own fault. I could have resolved this issue a long time ago, but no. I fail at resolving things apparently.
Why must humans be driven to interaction with other human beings? It makes life so much more complicated, I swear. Arghhhh. Sometimes I wish solitude could be enough, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself of this fact, it never is.
I can't learn US History. I got this horrendous grade on a five question quiz the other day. (I blame it partially on the fact that there were only five questions, but nonetheless.) I just...can't do it. I don't know why, but it's really starting to frustrate me. What am I going to do about the AP test? I don't even want to think about the AP test.
I have tons of questions, about me, other people, the future, life in general, etc., but I don't even know if I should be asking them. But then I wonder if I'm satisfied not knowing, having those questions eat at the back of my brain, and I realize that I'll never know enough to satiate my curiosity.
A lot of times people ask me, "Did you like [insert book here]?" I reply in an inconsequential manner, and then later I reflect upon that question, and I'm not sure. I love language, especially written, and sometimes I feel as if I base my taste in literature off of that aspect.
Did I like All the King's Men? OK--yes. A resounding yes. It was awesome. It was eye-opening, it was masterfully written, and the characters.... As I sat there pondering Willie Stark, Adam and Anne Stanton, Judge Irwin, and Jack Burden, I gained an immense amount of respect for Robert Penn Warren as I realized that I'm not supposed to love all of the characters. (I know what you're thinking: Emmeline, it took you this long to realize that? Yes, yes it did. I think I knew this prior to reading ATKM, but it just hit me.) They're supposed to seem like a real person, more than just words on a page or a figment of my mind. Warren illustrated their faults, their strengths and weaknesses in such a manner that I couldn't help but feel as if they were real. Sure, authors I've read before have done that, but perhaps not as well as Warren. He told the story in full, the raw and the refined, the ugly and the pretty, and I can really appreciate that. In a way, it reminded me of Madame Bovary. This correlation doesn't necessarily apply to the style or plot, but rather it made me realize something about myself.
I love how literature can do that to you.
I feel like I keep blogging about books and literature and my feelings about them. Conclusion: I need a life.
But....on one hand, sometimes I feel like when people ask me that question, "Did you like...?" they just want a yes or no. If I were to jump off on this tangent about the characters, the style, and realizations I had about myself and the universe as I read the book, people either a) wouldn't care or b) not appreciate it. So, I tell my blog, and I feel a bit better.

"With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy." 

--Max Ehrmann

13 Followers

I noticed my blog gained a follower, so I went to see who it was. Looking through the list, I noticed that I follow my own blog.

*Facepalm*

I don't even know how I did this.  It's like how I "poke" myself on facebook. How did that start again?

Last night, around midnight, I was planning this long deepish blog post in my  head....but now I've forgotten all about it. This will have to do instead, I suppose.

Eureka!

Um, so yeah.

I just found the word I was looking for, but didn't know I was looking for. Let me explain.

I was on dictionary.com trying to find this word John Steinbeck uses in Cannery Row when I came across this. 

Firstly, it's an interesting/freakish happening. Secondly, do you see that word? Pareidolia! Isn't it fabulous?

...And that's all I really have to say.

"He dipped his paintbrush in his heart."

The Goods

I never blogged about Christmas, mainly because I didn't have a computer at the time. Yeah, it's hard to blog without a computer....imagine that. Anyway. I had an excellent Christmas this year. The highlight was my bookshelf, as seen below. It's amazing. It folds up, making it easily transportable. I also got two books: a biography of Henrik Ibsen and Lives of the Great Composers--the latter being a book I've wanted for some time now and the former being a delightful surprise. I might need a new one soon though....mine's getting full.
This Christmas was also nice since I got to spend it with some family. Well....it's over and a new year is here. Onto my last semester of high school.

Do you see the blue bowl? My mother made that when she was a little girl.

True that

"It was all too easy to lose oneself in a past half real, half imaginary, and so be blind to the present. In the cities that I knew best, Tours, Blois, Orleans, I lost myself in fantasy, seeing other walls, older streets, the crumbling corners of once glittering facades, and they were more live to me than any real structure before my eyes, for in their shadows lay security; but in the hard light of reality there was only doubt and apprehension."

--John, The Scapegoat, by Daphne du Maurier

First off, let me just say: I loved the Scapegoat. It reminded me of why I love Daphne du Maurier so much. The plot, the characters, and--above all--her style. When I read this passage, my immediate thought was, "me, too." I don't think anyone else could have better summed up my love/feelings for history. I only wish I could say Tours, Blois, and Orleans were the cities I knew best. Unfortunately, I've only been to Bitsch, France. Someday.

It's funny, I tend to think of myself as an anachronism. I wonder if I was born a few centuries ago if I would feel the same way.