Standard chaos.
c-jo

The Catcher in the Rye

I'm up too late; it's nearly eleven, and I haven't yet turned out the light.

I was reading The Catcher in the Rye, the second book in my quest to devour the classics this year.

I admit; I just looked up the interpretations of it, to see if there was something I was missing in it. It's a classic, so it has to be good (supposedly), but it just made me sad.

How horrible, to be so cynical, so hopeless. To, at seventeen, find no spark, no meaning in anything.

I think the saddest thing about the book is that it mirrors what I see so often in my own generation. We have been taught that to be intelligent, to be thoughtful, is to be cynical.

I can't say that I liked the book. But I'm going to sleep on it, and I may find in the morning, upon reflection, that I can appreciate it.


Morning After Update: I still find the novel deeply sad, but I think I do appreciate it for its style and examination of a teenage mind, even such a troubled one as Holden Caulfield's. However, I do have to say that before going to bed last night I wanted something to lift my spirits. I Has A Hotdog is good for that. How could you possibly look at this...

...and not laugh??

There's a cat in that tub.

This is office kitty. Her name is Socrates because her tail curls into the shape of a question mark. I didn't name her, though the little philosophy major in me was pleased to learn both her name and the reasoning behind it.

Actually, Socrates is just what Maggie and I call her. Luke calls her Orange Kitty (how original), and Kyle calls her Princess.

Today Luke walked into the office and told me that she was outside in a tub, under the bench. She was curled up in it when I first went out, but sat up to be friendly and let me take pictures of her.

You know, two of my goals this year were to simplify and to take a picture every day. I've taken a few pictures, hardly enough to even suggest that I'm trying. But I look at this pic and think that I'm getting better at simplifying.

Simplicity finds joy in a cat sitting in a tub. And in sitting out on the deck and reading while Bennet chews a rawhide at my feet. And running two miles at 6:45 in the morning, when the rest of the world is just waking up. And in making dinner, even if it takes hours and you have to run to the store (twice), just because cooking itself is a beautiful process.

I washed a load of whites.

If it isn't worn, then it knows no love.

Last night I was digging through a couple of boxes, looking for my W-2s (let's not talk about it), and I found the following:

3 dresses (2 purchased at Goodwill, 1 vintage, given to me by Madre)
1 pair of pants (Goodwill)
1 shirt (Goodwill)

In a box. In my closet.

They were there because they all need alterations. A seam is coming open on the top, and the other pieces all need to be shortened because I'm tiny.

But how sad! I'm ashamed of myself, buying beautiful clothing and then never wearing it because I can't get around to altering it as necessary.

Thus, my goal for tonight is simple: get to getting. get 'er done. get on with it.

And I'm considering making a pledge to myself to purchase nothing new OR used for a spell. I'm thinking about it, considering the ramifications of it. Thinking they're probably not as bad as I want to make them out to be. But I'm still hesitant to take away my shopping.

For a friend.

In high school, my friends and I started blogging because it was the cool new thing. We read each other's blogs, and that was it.

In college, I discovered other blogs. News blogs, blogs about fashion, and blogs about life.

I couldn't tell you how I've ended up subscribing to most of the blogs on my Google Reader. Usually, I read something, somewhere, and I ended up on their site, and just started following.

What I didn't expect in that is discovering a kinship with others in the "blogosphere."

Tonight my heart is breaking for a friend that I've never met, who lives nearly a thousand miles away from me, and who I have no connection to other than the fact that we happened to find each other through blogging, and discovered we share the experience of, among other things, being two single twenty-somethings making it on our own.

Tonight I'm asking you, all three or five or whatever of you who read this, to pray for her. For a few months she's been fighting mono, and then got pneumonia, has a handful of cysts throughout her body, and now is going through one of the saddest things that could occur in a woman's life -- finding out she can never have children. On top of that, a child she loves dearly, almost as if she was her own, is fighting for her life after falling into a pool.

Pray for the little girl, Olivia, that she'll find her breath and come out of the ICU strong and healthy. Pray for her family, that they'll have the strength to press on through this, to not give up hope on even the darkest of nights. That they'll be taken care of and comforted by God.

Pray for my friend, AB. Pray that she'll find strength in God, that He will hold her in her distress and keep her safe as she travels back and forth from the hospital to home. Pray for her body, fighting so many battles at once, that she will be healed. Pray for her heart, that she will find hope and peace, and that she will see God's will in her body's limitations.

AB, I don't know if you're keeping up on all your blogs right now, with so much happening. But know that I'm praying for you and for little Olivia.

Blogs I don't read.

Google Reader told me today that it had some recommendations for me. I was curious, so I clicked.

I'm confused.

Apparently Google Reader thinks I'm a hardcore feminist who doesn't believe in God.

First, I saw Atheist Barbie.

K, whatever.

But then there was something else.

You know, I don't like to weigh in on most issues.  A great deal of banter involves people making broad, emotional, uninformed statements that rarely, if ever, provide a complete image of the situation. Knowing my own limitations of understanding and knowledge, I would chose rather to be silent over foolish.

Abortion is not one of those issues. And this "statement" has affected me so deeply, I do feel the need to say something.

I hate abortion. I hate the flippancy with which it is often discussed. I hate that we treat it as a right, that the assumption in the second image behind that link is that this girl's right to go to college and fulfill her dreams is somehow greater than that child's right to live. I hate that pregnancy is simple, something that "just happens" and then can be "taken care of."

I hate that there are childless mothers out there, aching for a baby, while those who have that opportunity are killing them because they just don't want a baby right now. Because having a baby interrupts their lives, their plans.

Here's a novel idea: if you don't want to get pregnant, if you're not ready to have a baby, then don't have sex.

I realize that in today's world, it's a warped concept. That hardly puts us first. And by us, I mean me. It's all about me, right?

I know there are women out there who consider and wrestle with abortion for other reasons than inconvenience. Rape is one. Knowing that your child will die upon birth is another. I don't want to discredit their very difficult situations, and I honestly don't know what I'd do if faced with it myself.


But to kill my child so I can go to college? Inconceivable.

Without regrets.

I think it's prom season.

All the style bloggers I follow are getting reminiscent about their own fabulous memories, posting pictures, talking about prom as the BEST NIGHT EVER.

So I have a secret to share: I didn't go to my prom.

Okay, I went to one. Junior year. Made my dress. Had a boa that matched perfectly. It was one of the first times I'd ever really felt pretty. And it was amazingly fun.

Until I got there. I got to dress up, which was amazing in itself. Dinner was great. They forgot my food, and so I didn't end up paying for it (and eventually, yes, did eat). I went with three other girls who were some of my closest friends at the time.

But the dance? Meh.

I didn't have a date, and maybe that contributed to it. So, at an event when the playlist was weighted heavily toward couples getting close on the dance floor, I spent a lot of time sitting on that floor. It's not like I had anything better to do. Even my single girl friends found a handful of single guys to dance with, but not me.

So when Senior Prom rolled around, in all its glory, I opted out. A couple of my friends skipped with me, and though I can't speak for them, I have to say that I do not -- for even one second -- regret the decision.

People have said that high school, or college, held the best years of their lives. If that's true, then I am sad for them. Life, or the enjoyment of life, shouldn't end at graduation. Most of us have decades to live after we receive our diplomas.

High school wasn't bad for me. It wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible. College was better, most of it was pretty amazing.

But I have to say that life continues to get better and better year after year. Possibly because I'm making it that way. Life, at any stage, is good, so why waste it?

I'm already planning outfits.

 

I know I'm a nerd, but I love love love these shirts. I think that if I successfully get through my whole reading list by the prescribed date (January 27, 2011), I might buy one. Especially because buying it supports communities by sending them a book.

Check out the whole collection at www.outofprintclothing.com.

In other news, I'm no longer planning to move to Houston to attend HCC for Fashion Design.

I'm thinking Austin, and University of Texas now.

(Wow...I might become a Longhorn.)

One thing's sure and nothing's surer: the rich get richer and the poor get - children.

I read The Great Gatsby this week.

The book is three weeks overdue at the library. It was either read it or give up.

So I read it. I mean, I had about seven hours with nothing to do between here and Austin and then back again.

The funny thing is, it's April 1st, and that's the first book I've read on the Modern Library's list of 100 Best Novels.

Only 99 more to read before January 27, 2011.

Oh, and I guess I should be taking some photos too. Like every day.

Eek.