And that's all I have to say about that.... Thoughts and Opinions of Me - SPowers |
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Thursday, April 05, 2001
Amanda!! I got your message - hope you get mine. Feel free to call whenever you like to make arrangements. When/what ever is perfectly OK with us.
I'm almost done with my prep work. I just have to get all the 'little' things together. Went out to eat tonight with Sweet - to Longhorn's. (How perfect is that?) Then we dashed over to our local ice cream shop for a moovelous addition to my collection of Things I Must Not Forget To Bring. I'm excited to be going... sad to be leaving... and getting crabby. Is my period due? Sweet says there's no way I'll get it this weekend, what with everyone together. He says we'll cancel out each other's hormonal signals. I reminded him we tend to fall into the same cycle anyway. Then he sort of shuddered, picturing all of us PMS-ing at the same time. But that ain't going to happen! (I hope.) He's considering buring the World's Worst Movie onto a CD for me to take with me. As if we will be stuck for something to do. Will we not have cards? Will there not be diet coke? We'll be fine. As long as Moms has the right flight number, everything will be perfectly wonderful.
Wednesday, April 04, 2001
Jenni Johns asks about The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway, and if anyone can help her out with it. Jenni - I looked for your email address and couldn't find it, so on the off chance that you read this, here goes.
The book is written w/o chapters or breaks, so reading it is an ordeal in itself. The idea with that is to make the reader empathize with the old man, who spends every possible moment of the book with his fishing line caught by a fish - a huge fish, in fact. It can be an exhausting read if you're like me and won't put a book down in the middle of a chapter. Hemingway even describes the guy's dreams - there's no relief from it. It's been described as an allegory for the creative process. The old man knows there's a huge fish 'out there' and he goes out all by himself to find it. He does and the task consumes him completely - all his energy, all his thoughts - everything he is becomes defined by the fish (the thing being created). He finally tames it, brings it back to shore (publishes it, releases it to the public, shows his work), but before the public really gets a hold of it so he can sell it, sharks have swarmed and bitten off bits & pieces of it, leaving only the tail end and that, people don't want (critics hack a piece of art to bits before the public can really get an idea if they like it or not for themselves). Got that? Support for this theory of the book rests in the fact that Hemingway, at the time he'd written OM&TS, had just been severely dissed by the critical establishment for ... um... I can't remember what book he'd just published that he thought should've been better received. (I'm remembering all this from 11th grade English.) So this was his 'f-you' to the critics. Ironically, critics universally hailed it as a masterpiece and (I think) he got the Nobel Prize for Literature from it. From what I can gather, don't waste your time renting any of the movie versions. The book is way short, though - about 100 pages, so give it 2 hours of your time, if you can. Personally, I can't stand Hemingway and think the man was hugely overrated (his attitudes bug me to pieces). However, there's no denying the man knew how to write.
Tuesday, April 03, 2001
Personal to Soul Mate: Read me.
Personal to Citibank: STOP IT!! If you lay off any more people, the economy will only get worse! (Besides, I prefer Sweet's health insurance coverage.) Personal to Moosie from Minnie-Moo: Moo. Mooo-moo. Moo-OOO-ooo. Moo, moo-moo-mooo. Moo? :-) Note to Self: Don't forget your toothbrush or your jammies! Ignore the sound of one hand clapping and get on with things. Okay! Work is going unexpectedly better, although nothing's really changed. I thought we'd be in more of a panic than we are, but I guess with the continuance of the lawsuit, it's to be expected. Of course, now we get to do this all over again in September. I'm able to fasten my watch tighter. Does that mean I've lost weight in my wrists? Truthfully, the wrist is not a worry-zone for me, but I suppose every little is a gain. Sweet says my face is smaller, too. Funny... I haven't noticed my head shrinking. Where is it all going? Or does this explain my 'cold'? Is it my brain seeping out of me that I keep snuffling back up? (Sorry - that was a little gross. I'll cut that out.) I think I'm doing my workouts better, at any rate. That, or I'm finally more aware of what my body's actually doing. That's probably it. Confidential Note: Life is not a competition with others, it is a competition with yourself. The idea is to be able to look back on your life and be proud of the work you've done, not be kicking yourself because other people did different things. The focus is on you, not them. At least, it should be. I know - it's tough and the temptation is strong, but you're stronger, believe it or not. Some other songs running through my head (someday, my ears are going to make my brain over into a disco... they'll call it "The Hip-O-Campus.") ...There's a yellow rose in Texas, that I am going to SEEEEEE... no other fellow knows her, no fellow only meeeeeeee... That usually segues into: From this valley they say you are going. I will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile.... Come and sit by my side if you love me; do not hasten to bid me adieu, but remember the Red River Valley and the girl that has loved you so true... Which always leads me back to: Oh, say have you heard of Sweet Betsy from Pike? Who crossed the wide prairie with her lover, Ike? They had one little wagon and two spotted hogs, a trusty old plowhorse and one yellow dog... hi-de-ho-ho-de-hi-hi-hi-de-yi-hi-de-yaa... I wish I knew what happened to my songbook of American music! Now that Sweet's all set up in his corner with his keyboard and stuff, I would love to be able to tickle the ivories myself. I guess I'll have to settle for banging away on the plastic. Or does that sound too suggestive? It shouldn't. My bed isn't made of plastic.
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