It was 50 degrees today.
Went for a walk today dressed in jeans, shitkickers, cat shirt, black cardigan, armwarmers, black cord jacket and black cord hat. Listened to Fefe Dobson most of the time, too. Haven't listened to that CD in ages. It was raining slightly, misting's more like it. But it felt good: I felt like a bad ass.
I was on a mission. Looking for Gladys Mitchell books. I figured I ought to give The Paper Store a chance even though it's less bookstore these days and more useless crap shop. Obviously there was nothing there. Stopped in CVS on my way to Annie's. Annie's didn't have anything either, but it did have some delicious goodies. Bought three books while there. Got Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernières; The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster; and The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Almost got Flaubert's Madame Bovary, but I'm not really sure how into reading it I actually am. Let's get through Les Miserables first, I guess, then move on to other 19th century writers.
I've got to get through A Wild Sheep Chase and Atonement before I move on to anything else. Goal: not to start another book (or story, quite frankly) until the one I'm on is finished. Now, let's see if I can stick to it!
After spending about forty five minutes in the used book store, I walked back and cut through an apartment complex where in front of building 26 there were eight newspapers in their amazingly useless pink plastic bags strewn about the parking lot. At least three of them looked pretty dejected as if they'd been run over a few times. It was kind funny in its own way. I crossed Hosmer more easily than I had predicted and popped through the chainlink fence (there's an opening - I'm not that much of a bad-ass) and went to the grocery store to check out the English/Irish food selection, pick up a bag of Twizzlers and some Japanese noodles. I decided flowers would be nice as I passed the "florist section" -- it's a pretty pathetic flower section really: a cooler with some roses and other "cold" flowers and a bunch of random bouquets, some daffodils and a table of primroses. I got a pot of yellow primroses because they just seemed the most cheery. I know, me . . . cheery? But that's what I needed. They add the perfect amount of color on such a gray day and they're just pleasant.
I think I saw a woman who goes to my parents' church while I was there. I generally see someone I recognize. I've avoided this guy who may or may not recognize me as Sarah's sister at least twice as well as various 'church people' and the people I "worked" with/for those couple days last summer. But I practically walked into this woman at least twice. I don't know if she recognized me or not, or if it was even her. I couldn't remember her name so it's not like I could be all "Pamela, right? How are you?"
Also picked up The Squid and the Whale at the grocery store. I kinda watched it in bits this afternoon. I kept getting interrupted. I'm still not entirely sure I get it? But at the same time it's kinda like: what's not to get, right? It's the story of these two pretty sad kids and their fucked up relationships with their parents and their parents' (or, rather, father's) fucked up perception of himself and his life. The mother actually is pretty sane. She's trying really hard to be a good mother and to take care of her children and herself and to have a career. Her husband sucks royally, but she takes care of that pretty well if you ask me. The father, on the other hand, cannot get over himself. Pompous to the hilt, but intelligent. Certainly a case for being too smart for your own good being a bad thing. The younger son is exploring sexuality as it has come, somewhat abruptly, to his attention. He's also discovered alcohol and its effects. The older brother is slightly more interesting. The younger brother is still supremely innocent and just so precious for it. The older brother, who has bought into his father's bullshit for so long, is kinda like a person coming out of a coma. Instead of simply not knowing things, he's realizing that he doesn't have all the answers.
I guess that's what "to get" out of this movie. It's better to not have all the answers and to know that you don't have all the answers. Hm, interesting. What's that saying, "A wise man knows he knows nothing"?
**Shakespeare: "The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool."
It would be him. But so appropriate. The mother knows she flawed, she knows she doesn't have it all together, she knows that she's made mistakes, she is the more likable, the more sympathetic of the two parents. The father is just a self-righteous dick who can't understand why people flee his presence. (No, I'm not biased!) The boys are going to be fine. They have attentive parents. A most spectacular gene pool they've spawned forth from and high levels of understanding and intelligence. Roger Ebert made the astute observation that these kids are set, they're lucky to have two writers for parents - all kids should be that lucky. Sometimes I pull my dad's foray into Creative Writing classes when I was younger as one parent with literary talent and bless myself for this outstanding luck! I didn't get the musical talent, but I swiped the talent to string words together? Regardless, I think I get this film. I like it, I'm intrigued by it, I think it's interesting and the acting is superb, the music wonderful, the story is interesting. Overall, it's lovely. I'll have to watch it again, uninterrupted.
I was on a mission. Looking for Gladys Mitchell books. I figured I ought to give The Paper Store a chance even though it's less bookstore these days and more useless crap shop. Obviously there was nothing there. Stopped in CVS on my way to Annie's. Annie's didn't have anything either, but it did have some delicious goodies. Bought three books while there. Got Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernières; The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster; and The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Almost got Flaubert's Madame Bovary, but I'm not really sure how into reading it I actually am. Let's get through Les Miserables first, I guess, then move on to other 19th century writers.
I've got to get through A Wild Sheep Chase and Atonement before I move on to anything else. Goal: not to start another book (or story, quite frankly) until the one I'm on is finished. Now, let's see if I can stick to it!
After spending about forty five minutes in the used book store, I walked back and cut through an apartment complex where in front of building 26 there were eight newspapers in their amazingly useless pink plastic bags strewn about the parking lot. At least three of them looked pretty dejected as if they'd been run over a few times. It was kind funny in its own way. I crossed Hosmer more easily than I had predicted and popped through the chainlink fence (there's an opening - I'm not that much of a bad-ass) and went to the grocery store to check out the English/Irish food selection, pick up a bag of Twizzlers and some Japanese noodles. I decided flowers would be nice as I passed the "florist section" -- it's a pretty pathetic flower section really: a cooler with some roses and other "cold" flowers and a bunch of random bouquets, some daffodils and a table of primroses. I got a pot of yellow primroses because they just seemed the most cheery. I know, me . . . cheery? But that's what I needed. They add the perfect amount of color on such a gray day and they're just pleasant.
I think I saw a woman who goes to my parents' church while I was there. I generally see someone I recognize. I've avoided this guy who may or may not recognize me as Sarah's sister at least twice as well as various 'church people' and the people I "worked" with/for those couple days last summer. But I practically walked into this woman at least twice. I don't know if she recognized me or not, or if it was even her. I couldn't remember her name so it's not like I could be all "Pamela, right? How are you?"
Also picked up The Squid and the Whale at the grocery store. I kinda watched it in bits this afternoon. I kept getting interrupted. I'm still not entirely sure I get it? But at the same time it's kinda like: what's not to get, right? It's the story of these two pretty sad kids and their fucked up relationships with their parents and their parents' (or, rather, father's) fucked up perception of himself and his life. The mother actually is pretty sane. She's trying really hard to be a good mother and to take care of her children and herself and to have a career. Her husband sucks royally, but she takes care of that pretty well if you ask me. The father, on the other hand, cannot get over himself. Pompous to the hilt, but intelligent. Certainly a case for being too smart for your own good being a bad thing. The younger son is exploring sexuality as it has come, somewhat abruptly, to his attention. He's also discovered alcohol and its effects. The older brother is slightly more interesting. The younger brother is still supremely innocent and just so precious for it. The older brother, who has bought into his father's bullshit for so long, is kinda like a person coming out of a coma. Instead of simply not knowing things, he's realizing that he doesn't have all the answers.
I guess that's what "to get" out of this movie. It's better to not have all the answers and to know that you don't have all the answers. Hm, interesting. What's that saying, "A wise man knows he knows nothing"?
**Shakespeare: "The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool."
It would be him. But so appropriate. The mother knows she flawed, she knows she doesn't have it all together, she knows that she's made mistakes, she is the more likable, the more sympathetic of the two parents. The father is just a self-righteous dick who can't understand why people flee his presence. (No, I'm not biased!) The boys are going to be fine. They have attentive parents. A most spectacular gene pool they've spawned forth from and high levels of understanding and intelligence. Roger Ebert made the astute observation that these kids are set, they're lucky to have two writers for parents - all kids should be that lucky. Sometimes I pull my dad's foray into Creative Writing classes when I was younger as one parent with literary talent and bless myself for this outstanding luck! I didn't get the musical talent, but I swiped the talent to string words together? Regardless, I think I get this film. I like it, I'm intrigued by it, I think it's interesting and the acting is superb, the music wonderful, the story is interesting. Overall, it's lovely. I'll have to watch it again, uninterrupted.