I haven't written in a good while. Apologies on that. I have read, lots and lots, rest assured. I have probably read 30 plus books since I last posted on this blog, some re-reads but most are new.
However, I did just finish "Matched" by Ally Condie. KRW, a good friend of mine recommended it over a year ago. I meant to read it sooner, but my "to read" list is ridiculous. Since my roomie showed up with it Sunday, I picked it up and read it as a book to kick off the new semester.
It was an interesting read, a little fluffy, and while I didn't dislike the protagonist and company, I didn't particularly care about them. Characters were rather believable. The plot was pretty decent, not something I had read previously.
Possibly the aspect I found most interesting was the concept that even when acting with intention to counter the government, the protagonist was still playing "their" game. I hadn't considered that, as a plot point or as a way of looking at our reality - though reality is uncertain. It is impossible to know to what extent our thoughts and actions are influenced by government, family, friends, enemies. We are all parts of an enormous machine, believing we act on our own, but everything we do effects others and, conversely, our live are influenced by an incalculable number of other individuals.
I was not overwhelmed by the romance of the book. Despite the obvious importance of the relationships in the book, it seemed to be as much about craving a creative outlet, self-discovery, the hunger that cannot be bred out, only buried. Ms. Condie's words telling of the protagonist's love for several individuals, many family, and her love for the two boys, all existed simultaneously, but none were the same "love." Love is not equal among all people or all situations. That was an important point. It also segued nicely into the priorities we have: choosing one item or person over another does not demonstrate apathy toward the lower-ranked, only a preference to the higher.
I quite enjoyed the book. It's a pretty good read part fluff and part fodder for introspection should one so desire. Go forth and read!
Monday, August 27, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
Book in Progress
I know I haven't been very active of late, but I promise I am working on another book. Secretariat will be reviewed soon, promise.
I have to finish finals on Wednesday. Tomorrow I have a French placement test that I hope to pass so I don't have to reformulate my plan. Friday Kona and I leave [here] for that town where my aunt lives. A week from tomorrow, I fly back to Oregon. Lovely.
The review for Secretariat should be done before then.
I have to finish finals on Wednesday. Tomorrow I have a French placement test that I hope to pass so I don't have to reformulate my plan. Friday Kona and I leave [here] for that town where my aunt lives. A week from tomorrow, I fly back to Oregon. Lovely.
The review for Secretariat should be done before then.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Things I Haven't Done in So Long
If you knew
The rights I changed,
the damage I have done,
Would you still be willing,
To be the one?
So much, my dear,
Can never be changed:
The race wrongly lost,
Time stolen away,
Nothing to negate the cost.
If I told you,
Of the pain I caused,
The lie fallen from my lips,
Would your faith,
Still my failures eclipse?
Guilt and strife
Correct nothing;
This I know
Yet, oh, so strong,
Is their undertow.
If I could
Show how different
I would be,
Would you stay
Long enough to see?
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Conditionality
All relationships are conditional. Friendships to lovers to forever couples to parent-child, they are all conditional. One must not deviate from certain perimeters, whether those perimeters are physical, personality, mental, or emotional. When those boundaries are crossed, the relationship takes a heavy blow; if it isn't destroyed, the relationship must be rebuilt around the change.
I have been crossing boundaries in most of my close relationships for months now. Some of changes are well known, obvious. Others I have not dared to say.
Coming to university, being on my own, being able to make choices for me and only me has changed many things about myself. A good portion of the changes have been radical, so radical that I wonder if I was repressing or pretending prior to the move. Others have just been from new experiences, new people, new perspectives. Some are just the natural change in one's personality over time.
In any case, I've known that some of the these changes were coming; they have been coming over time. Some have caught me completely by surprise. Both types have been kept pretty closely under wraps, especially from people in Oregon. Part of it is that I have always had a ridiculous guilt complex and don't like to upset people; upsetting the status quo tends to really make people **pantomimes brain explosion**
Unfortunately, keeping these changes to myself by either avoidance, omission, or outright topic-switching, has made my extremely stressed out. I have a hunch that trying to make other people happy for my entire life radically changed who I was in my young(er) life. It isn't anyone else's fault. I felt that I caused many problems for people around me, so I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible...or just tried to do the exact opposite of what was expected *cough* (boyfriends) *cough*
Between all that, I don't know that I ever figured out who I was. Now, in most ways, I am still the exact same person that I was: I still don't care what the general population thinks of me; I take great pride in my intelligence and use it to separate me from others; I am pretty antisocial; I like to be in control. In other ways, in many ways the little things, these have changed, in ways that don't matter to some people, but could potentially be very important to some of the people closest to me.
I don't want to loose those people from my life, yet being honest about who and what I am could make them turn their backs on me. What I am realizing, though, is that, as important as these people are to me, if they can't accept who I am, it makes no sense to keep on pretending. There is no reason to keep pretending other than to keep the peace, but the peace is eating me. If it is all to go away, can't it at least be because I can't hide who I am?
In numerable ways, I am terrified of showing those closest to my over my history. I am terrified of seeing them walk away, turning their backs, of seeing the disapproval in their eyes.
In a few ways, that are growing, I am finding that there are a few people, people who accept me. People who think I am strong and amazing and challenging, but they believe my being challenging is a positive aspect. I will have a little more time with the status quo as it is. After that, I need, for my own sanity, to come clean. I hope they can still accept me. If they can't, I have been alone before and I have a few people who will stay, through these changes, at least.
I have been crossing boundaries in most of my close relationships for months now. Some of changes are well known, obvious. Others I have not dared to say.
Coming to university, being on my own, being able to make choices for me and only me has changed many things about myself. A good portion of the changes have been radical, so radical that I wonder if I was repressing or pretending prior to the move. Others have just been from new experiences, new people, new perspectives. Some are just the natural change in one's personality over time.
In any case, I've known that some of the these changes were coming; they have been coming over time. Some have caught me completely by surprise. Both types have been kept pretty closely under wraps, especially from people in Oregon. Part of it is that I have always had a ridiculous guilt complex and don't like to upset people; upsetting the status quo tends to really make people **pantomimes brain explosion**
Unfortunately, keeping these changes to myself by either avoidance, omission, or outright topic-switching, has made my extremely stressed out. I have a hunch that trying to make other people happy for my entire life radically changed who I was in my young(er) life. It isn't anyone else's fault. I felt that I caused many problems for people around me, so I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible...or just tried to do the exact opposite of what was expected *cough* (boyfriends) *cough*
Between all that, I don't know that I ever figured out who I was. Now, in most ways, I am still the exact same person that I was: I still don't care what the general population thinks of me; I take great pride in my intelligence and use it to separate me from others; I am pretty antisocial; I like to be in control. In other ways, in many ways the little things, these have changed, in ways that don't matter to some people, but could potentially be very important to some of the people closest to me.
I don't want to loose those people from my life, yet being honest about who and what I am could make them turn their backs on me. What I am realizing, though, is that, as important as these people are to me, if they can't accept who I am, it makes no sense to keep on pretending. There is no reason to keep pretending other than to keep the peace, but the peace is eating me. If it is all to go away, can't it at least be because I can't hide who I am?
In numerable ways, I am terrified of showing those closest to my over my history. I am terrified of seeing them walk away, turning their backs, of seeing the disapproval in their eyes.
In a few ways, that are growing, I am finding that there are a few people, people who accept me. People who think I am strong and amazing and challenging, but they believe my being challenging is a positive aspect. I will have a little more time with the status quo as it is. After that, I need, for my own sanity, to come clean. I hope they can still accept me. If they can't, I have been alone before and I have a few people who will stay, through these changes, at least.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Wait for It...
Not really. If you, the reader, have been waiting for a new post, I'm sorry. I don't have a concrete reason I haven't written more, but I haven't. Now I'm back.
I don't know who all reads these. That is part of the beauty of blogging, from my perspective: I can say almost anything and it doesn't matter, partly because I don't go by my IRL name, and partly because, even IRL, I don't usually care much what people think of me. There are some things I won't say on here. Some I think are too private. Some are not mine to write. Some, and a very few are they, I won't say because I fear losing some of the few people I love.
Today has been one of my "days." "Days" in quotations are different from Days. Capitol-D Days are when nothing seems to go right. "Days" are times - not necessarily 24-hour periods - when I am completely miserable, but don't know why.
I have been having several thoughts about which I could write. Many probably deserve their own post; I do not have the energy for such things right now. I guess I'll just see how many I get done before I must sleep.
I am going back to Oregon in May. It was supposed to only be a two-ish week trip. Now I'm staying for three months. I mostly wouldn't care. I have to leave Kona here, in Ohio. Kona is my horse, for those who aren't aware. I have never been away from him for three months before. From the time we breed his mom, I have never been away from him for more that a month. Not ever. He is my baby and I am terrified that something will happen to him and I won't be here for him. Other than that, there is a significant, for me, list of people I do not want to see back in Oregon. In a way, coming to Ohio was a way to run away from them. Mostly, Ohio was chasing a future I want.
I try not to make people choose when I argue. I don't like to argue in general, but when I do, I try to minimize the emotional casualties. I'm usually rational enough to talk myself down from the brink of making someone choose. When I'm not, I don't usually tell the person that I'm making them choose. I listen and I watch, and I decide from there on what side the individual is. I did that a couple months ago. There was exactly one person from my class of 18 that I kept in touch with after leaving Oregon. Something happened and I made him choose. He did not choose me/my side. Those who know me, and those who have read much of this blog probably know I am not the type to call a cease-fire. So, now, in the entire world, I consider myself to have four friends. There are two or three with potential to become friends, but they are all likely to leave my area of the universe before I form enough of an emotional attachment to consider them true friends.
I am not a crier, but I am a topic-jumper. There is one actor that had created tides of emotion in me unmatched by pretty much anything else anywhere in my existence. That actor is David Tennant. I watched him - a character played by him - die twice in one night earlier this week. I bawled both times, even though one of them I knew his final line and the other wasn't actually David Tennant, but another actor playing th older version of David Tennant's character. Thirty minutes into one of the story lines I was already crying, which almost never happens.
I have "days," as mentioned earlier. Some are harder than others. Today was pretty bad. I know that there are people to which I matter. I do not think I should. From my perspective, the only change I have brought to their lives is negative. Some have told me that my decision made their life better, but they can't know that. Maybe their lives would have been better if I had not done what I did. These are the "days" I wish time energy would catch up to me, erasing me from existence, making it as though I never existed at all.
Those are the days I am so miserable I simply function for lack of other options. It isn't a desire to die. It is more a wager that the world, the entirety of time and space and life would be better for the lack of me. For, really, what good have I brought to the world? What can I do? I have expectations so much higher for myself than for others. One person can change the world, or begin the change, or inspire the change, or be part of the change. I, though, I must do so much more to deserve my existence. How can I look into the Untempered Schism and run or be inspired or go mad? I must do something more to accept that the universe did not make an error in allowing me to be born.
I am nothing. As nothing, I deserve no friends, no love, no support. Yet I have those things. It makes no sense to my brain. I am not intelligent enough to incite change. I am not emotional/soft/friendly enough to help or comfort. I am not calculating enough to do what must be done. I am not strong enough to save anyone. I am not strong enough to sacrifice myself. I am not objective enough to see the universe clearly. I do not have the faith to believe there is a higher purpose. I am not enough anything to be something, but I am to something to be nothing at all.
I am unarguably strange. I was working a few days ago, mucking stalls by myself. I do this on such autopilot that my mind wanders, sometimes far, sometimes not so much. This time, my mind ventured to one of the furthest points from what I would expect. It wasn't how a bicardiac system would work. No, it was what I would do, legally, for settlements, for school, for work, for Kona, for my family, if I was raped while studying abroad and was impregnated by said rapist. I was on about this in an internal conversation - yet another reason I am strange - for more that half an hour before realizing how extremely disturbed such thoughts are.
I believe in love. I have seen examples, people so much in love after decades that romantic comedies are pathetic by comparison. I do not believe in love for me. I am to too and not to enough at the same time. I am too rational and not emotional enough. I do not want to fall in love, nor do I expect to, end. There is no blue french horn in my future, not even temporarily.
I have an idea, sparked by something I found on StumbleUpon. I may start another blog documenting this project. It feels so raw and honest that I find it extremely appealing. I may link to it, if I do this. If I don't, I will link to what inspired me.
I must sleep.
Adieu,
-Genni
I don't know who all reads these. That is part of the beauty of blogging, from my perspective: I can say almost anything and it doesn't matter, partly because I don't go by my IRL name, and partly because, even IRL, I don't usually care much what people think of me. There are some things I won't say on here. Some I think are too private. Some are not mine to write. Some, and a very few are they, I won't say because I fear losing some of the few people I love.
Today has been one of my "days." "Days" in quotations are different from Days. Capitol-D Days are when nothing seems to go right. "Days" are times - not necessarily 24-hour periods - when I am completely miserable, but don't know why.
I have been having several thoughts about which I could write. Many probably deserve their own post; I do not have the energy for such things right now. I guess I'll just see how many I get done before I must sleep.
I am going back to Oregon in May. It was supposed to only be a two-ish week trip. Now I'm staying for three months. I mostly wouldn't care. I have to leave Kona here, in Ohio. Kona is my horse, for those who aren't aware. I have never been away from him for three months before. From the time we breed his mom, I have never been away from him for more that a month. Not ever. He is my baby and I am terrified that something will happen to him and I won't be here for him. Other than that, there is a significant, for me, list of people I do not want to see back in Oregon. In a way, coming to Ohio was a way to run away from them. Mostly, Ohio was chasing a future I want.
I try not to make people choose when I argue. I don't like to argue in general, but when I do, I try to minimize the emotional casualties. I'm usually rational enough to talk myself down from the brink of making someone choose. When I'm not, I don't usually tell the person that I'm making them choose. I listen and I watch, and I decide from there on what side the individual is. I did that a couple months ago. There was exactly one person from my class of 18 that I kept in touch with after leaving Oregon. Something happened and I made him choose. He did not choose me/my side. Those who know me, and those who have read much of this blog probably know I am not the type to call a cease-fire. So, now, in the entire world, I consider myself to have four friends. There are two or three with potential to become friends, but they are all likely to leave my area of the universe before I form enough of an emotional attachment to consider them true friends.
I am not a crier, but I am a topic-jumper. There is one actor that had created tides of emotion in me unmatched by pretty much anything else anywhere in my existence. That actor is David Tennant. I watched him - a character played by him - die twice in one night earlier this week. I bawled both times, even though one of them I knew his final line and the other wasn't actually David Tennant, but another actor playing th older version of David Tennant's character. Thirty minutes into one of the story lines I was already crying, which almost never happens.
I have "days," as mentioned earlier. Some are harder than others. Today was pretty bad. I know that there are people to which I matter. I do not think I should. From my perspective, the only change I have brought to their lives is negative. Some have told me that my decision made their life better, but they can't know that. Maybe their lives would have been better if I had not done what I did. These are the "days" I wish time energy would catch up to me, erasing me from existence, making it as though I never existed at all.
Those are the days I am so miserable I simply function for lack of other options. It isn't a desire to die. It is more a wager that the world, the entirety of time and space and life would be better for the lack of me. For, really, what good have I brought to the world? What can I do? I have expectations so much higher for myself than for others. One person can change the world, or begin the change, or inspire the change, or be part of the change. I, though, I must do so much more to deserve my existence. How can I look into the Untempered Schism and run or be inspired or go mad? I must do something more to accept that the universe did not make an error in allowing me to be born.
I am nothing. As nothing, I deserve no friends, no love, no support. Yet I have those things. It makes no sense to my brain. I am not intelligent enough to incite change. I am not emotional/soft/friendly enough to help or comfort. I am not calculating enough to do what must be done. I am not strong enough to save anyone. I am not strong enough to sacrifice myself. I am not objective enough to see the universe clearly. I do not have the faith to believe there is a higher purpose. I am not enough anything to be something, but I am to something to be nothing at all.
I am unarguably strange. I was working a few days ago, mucking stalls by myself. I do this on such autopilot that my mind wanders, sometimes far, sometimes not so much. This time, my mind ventured to one of the furthest points from what I would expect. It wasn't how a bicardiac system would work. No, it was what I would do, legally, for settlements, for school, for work, for Kona, for my family, if I was raped while studying abroad and was impregnated by said rapist. I was on about this in an internal conversation - yet another reason I am strange - for more that half an hour before realizing how extremely disturbed such thoughts are.
I believe in love. I have seen examples, people so much in love after decades that romantic comedies are pathetic by comparison. I do not believe in love for me. I am to too and not to enough at the same time. I am too rational and not emotional enough. I do not want to fall in love, nor do I expect to, end. There is no blue french horn in my future, not even temporarily.
I have an idea, sparked by something I found on StumbleUpon. I may start another blog documenting this project. It feels so raw and honest that I find it extremely appealing. I may link to it, if I do this. If I don't, I will link to what inspired me.
I must sleep.
Adieu,
-Genni
Friday, March 2, 2012
Considerations
Duh, duh, dun da da duh! The Hunger Games movie is released in less than a month!
I liked the entire trilogy, parly because of the story line, partly because - though not great literature - the writing was good, and, mostly, because it made me think.
I shall try to avoid any spoilers, but I make not promises. Readers have been duly warned.
I spent a good bit of time considering of what I am capable. I think that is a pretty natural reaction to books or movies such as these. I do not mean I spent an hour, or even a day, thinking about me, about where I stand and how strong the biological imperitive is to survive. No, I've considered such topics since I read the first book back in November and haven't stopped yet.
I generally don't get involved in political debates or conspiricy threories. I find, by my own reconning, that most people are either willing to believe anything anyone with any semblance of authority says or find conspiricy at every turn, even in the middle of the road. I am a combination. I like to consider myself an analytical individual. If something doesn't add up to me, it doesn't matter who said it; it has to make sense.
The idea of being part of a rebellion/revolt/riot/coup is utterly foriegn to me at this point. Yes, I believe many parts of the government need to be changed. I believe people need to change, both how - or if - they speak and how they act. Maybe it is how I was raised, maybe it is just my personality, maybe it is both, but I don't understand the idea of attacking people when the issue is seperate. "You can't kill an idea," I don't remember from where that is, but I agree. An idea does not belong to one person; it is a shared concept of reality and how to incite change.
Overthroughing a government, at this stage, in the first world countries, I find extremely premature. Yes, the govenmental systems aren't particularly efficient, at least in the U.S.A.; I can't comment on other countries. War is unnecessary; there are other solutions. If everyone would think, truely think for his or herself, one may find that the issues are not so difficult.
For instance, same-sex marrige has been, is, and will continue to be a sensitive issue for many people. I don't think it needs to be. The arguements against seem to be 1) the system will be abused and 2) "it's wrong in the eyes of the Lord." The arguement for, is, of course, that if two people "love" eachother, they should be able to recieve the benifits of a long-term, legally recognized union, no matter the orientration, gender, race, etc., provided both parties are legally able to make the choice: of legal age, not under duress or bribery, of sound mind, etc.
Here is how the situation is resolved. It would not take much at all. Marrige becomes a religious union. Civil unions are filled with the state. Those currently "married" are automatically filled for a civil union after the passing of this hypothetical law. Then, persons desiring a legal union file for a civil union. Those with a civil union can be married by the religious habits/beliefs if allowed by the religious group. For those not yet married/civil-unioned, a civil union must be in place to reciece the benefits of a legal union; if those so choose, they could also be married. After all, church and state are supposed to be seperate; why does religion apply at all to who should be legal tied to whom? It wouldn't take much to change it, and the sancity of religions could be maintained. I would suggest, though, that the number of people in each civil union be limited to two.
As for the "abuse of the system" idea, anyone can abuse the system; it is extremely incorrect to imply that any couple is more likely to abuse to system than any other couple based upon those involved with the union. In other words, a male-female couple is just as likely to abuse the system as a couple composed of (pick any two, each choice may be picked twice): male, female, trans-sexual, post-op, pre-op, and whatever other ones need to be included so as to not leave out any varity of human.
If people in general stopped nit-picking at opinions and started looking at a resolution instead of a fight, how many "social issues" could be resolved?
Anyway, the point is, one of my favorite things about the trilogy is how it made me think about where I would be in a rebellion, what I would do.
The other consideration I have been paying mind to since reading the books, is of what I am capable. If I were placed in a situation where my choice was kill or be killed, what would I do? Would I even try to survive? Would I be able to actively try to end someone else's life? I am pro-capitol punishment; some might say that is on par with murdering someone. I honestly do not know. I do know that I would hunt if that is what it took to survive. I prefer not to eat meat, but I have that choice right now and it doesn't affect how much food is available to me. I'd rather eat meat than die.
I suppose I just wanted to make the point that any book, even a fully fictional, non-propaganda book can make one think if he or she chooses.
Adieu,
-Genni
I liked the entire trilogy, parly because of the story line, partly because - though not great literature - the writing was good, and, mostly, because it made me think.
I shall try to avoid any spoilers, but I make not promises. Readers have been duly warned.
I spent a good bit of time considering of what I am capable. I think that is a pretty natural reaction to books or movies such as these. I do not mean I spent an hour, or even a day, thinking about me, about where I stand and how strong the biological imperitive is to survive. No, I've considered such topics since I read the first book back in November and haven't stopped yet.
I generally don't get involved in political debates or conspiricy threories. I find, by my own reconning, that most people are either willing to believe anything anyone with any semblance of authority says or find conspiricy at every turn, even in the middle of the road. I am a combination. I like to consider myself an analytical individual. If something doesn't add up to me, it doesn't matter who said it; it has to make sense.
The idea of being part of a rebellion/revolt/riot/coup is utterly foriegn to me at this point. Yes, I believe many parts of the government need to be changed. I believe people need to change, both how - or if - they speak and how they act. Maybe it is how I was raised, maybe it is just my personality, maybe it is both, but I don't understand the idea of attacking people when the issue is seperate. "You can't kill an idea," I don't remember from where that is, but I agree. An idea does not belong to one person; it is a shared concept of reality and how to incite change.
Overthroughing a government, at this stage, in the first world countries, I find extremely premature. Yes, the govenmental systems aren't particularly efficient, at least in the U.S.A.; I can't comment on other countries. War is unnecessary; there are other solutions. If everyone would think, truely think for his or herself, one may find that the issues are not so difficult.
For instance, same-sex marrige has been, is, and will continue to be a sensitive issue for many people. I don't think it needs to be. The arguements against seem to be 1) the system will be abused and 2) "it's wrong in the eyes of the Lord." The arguement for, is, of course, that if two people "love" eachother, they should be able to recieve the benifits of a long-term, legally recognized union, no matter the orientration, gender, race, etc., provided both parties are legally able to make the choice: of legal age, not under duress or bribery, of sound mind, etc.
Here is how the situation is resolved. It would not take much at all. Marrige becomes a religious union. Civil unions are filled with the state. Those currently "married" are automatically filled for a civil union after the passing of this hypothetical law. Then, persons desiring a legal union file for a civil union. Those with a civil union can be married by the religious habits/beliefs if allowed by the religious group. For those not yet married/civil-unioned, a civil union must be in place to reciece the benefits of a legal union; if those so choose, they could also be married. After all, church and state are supposed to be seperate; why does religion apply at all to who should be legal tied to whom? It wouldn't take much to change it, and the sancity of religions could be maintained. I would suggest, though, that the number of people in each civil union be limited to two.
As for the "abuse of the system" idea, anyone can abuse the system; it is extremely incorrect to imply that any couple is more likely to abuse to system than any other couple based upon those involved with the union. In other words, a male-female couple is just as likely to abuse the system as a couple composed of (pick any two, each choice may be picked twice): male, female, trans-sexual, post-op, pre-op, and whatever other ones need to be included so as to not leave out any varity of human.
If people in general stopped nit-picking at opinions and started looking at a resolution instead of a fight, how many "social issues" could be resolved?
Anyway, the point is, one of my favorite things about the trilogy is how it made me think about where I would be in a rebellion, what I would do.
The other consideration I have been paying mind to since reading the books, is of what I am capable. If I were placed in a situation where my choice was kill or be killed, what would I do? Would I even try to survive? Would I be able to actively try to end someone else's life? I am pro-capitol punishment; some might say that is on par with murdering someone. I honestly do not know. I do know that I would hunt if that is what it took to survive. I prefer not to eat meat, but I have that choice right now and it doesn't affect how much food is available to me. I'd rather eat meat than die.
I suppose I just wanted to make the point that any book, even a fully fictional, non-propaganda book can make one think if he or she chooses.
Adieu,
-Genni
Friday, February 17, 2012
"Mockingjay" Review
About three hours ago, I finished Mockingjay, the last book in the "Hunger Games" series by Suzanne Collins. I liked it pretty well. Refresh, I really liked it; in fact, it became the third or fourth book to ever make me cry. It didn't make me bawl like Where the Red Fern Grows did, but still, a few tears fell.
Anyhow, the generally story was, as usual, very good. The writing was pretty spectacular. Like Catching Fire though, I felt like it was a little rushed, as though Ms. Collins was tied to a certain length. On the other hand, I liked everything that happened in the book. So much did happen, though, that either the book needed to be longer or something needed to be cut. I liked the book; I liked what happened; parts of the book seemed a ploy to keep people interested.
Over all, I liked the book, and, unfortunately I can't say much more about it without giving something away to readers. The ending was good, satisfactory, and touching, as well as most of what any reader wanted. I'll write more about the series in general.
Cheers,
Genni
Anyhow, the generally story was, as usual, very good. The writing was pretty spectacular. Like Catching Fire though, I felt like it was a little rushed, as though Ms. Collins was tied to a certain length. On the other hand, I liked everything that happened in the book. So much did happen, though, that either the book needed to be longer or something needed to be cut. I liked the book; I liked what happened; parts of the book seemed a ploy to keep people interested.
Over all, I liked the book, and, unfortunately I can't say much more about it without giving something away to readers. The ending was good, satisfactory, and touching, as well as most of what any reader wanted. I'll write more about the series in general.
Cheers,
Genni
Friday, February 3, 2012
Living Louder, A Good Bit Louder
Top three feelings in my world: Cantering on a horse, feeling the drums and bass in my chest at a concert like my entire body is vibrating, and finally understanding a mathematics thing that had me confused.
Top three worst feeling in my world: Feeling stupid, saying something that made sense in my head without enough explanation so someone thinks I am stupid - or a supporter of human breeding like the Nazis - and hitting that low where my day cannot possibly get worse without me losing my mind.
I'm trial running a new format tonight. I went to the Everything is Fine/Symphony Soldier concert in Cleveland last night, which was spectacular. Some of the songs stuck in my head. I'll use lyrics, mostly from songs played last night, to introduce a new point about my life. Allons-y!
"And I want to live, not just survive tonight." "Angel with a Shotgun" by The Cab
That was more or less the feeling I had this morning, under the "I want to keep sleeping," that is. The day did not turn out that way. It was definitely a "survive, and barely" day. After the excitement high I was on last night, it was even harder to take. Speaking of which, last night, I certainly felt alive. I was right next to a speaker, less than a foot from the stage. When the bands we playing, the drums and bass in my bones, the lyrics in my head, jumping with three hundred other people, it was like sharing a heartbeat.
"I'm an angel with a shotgun, fight until the war's won; I don't care if heaven won't take me back." "Angel with a Shotgun" by The Cab
For me, I just have that personality about most things. I want to accomplish something, I will. Whatever the cost to me, I will make it happen. Maybe it won't happen when I want it to, but it will happen.
"No one, one lives forever. We will be remembered for what we do right now [...] only the good die young, but the great will always last." "Living Louder" by The Cab
I don't really care if my memory lasts. I do want to accomplish something. I don't want to be remembered for being, doing, saying, and seeing nothing. Make the most of what I have, the lyric is a good reminder of this.
"This is a fight I refuse to lose." "I'll Run" by The Cab
Last year, in September, I told Gabriel: I am not good at being bad at things. It's true. I am not good at failing. I don't handle it well. I will go, again and again, until I have done whatever it was to a passable degree in my own mind. Which is why I will spend a ridiculous amount of time studying Biology the term t compensate for sounding dumb.
"I'm no angel; I'm just me." "Endlessly" by The Cab
I am not perfect. I can't be. I will try; I will fail. I will not be perfect in anyone else's eyes, and I won't try. I don't always say things clearly. Sometimes I swear, though usually in ASL now. I am not particularly pretty, talented, or intelligent, and I am not very friendly. But I am loyal, I work hard, and I insist on doing my best. Someday, perhaps someone will want what I have to offer.
"...Swallow the words I was meant to say." "Vegas Skies" by The Cab
I tend to do that, want to say something, then change my mind. I usually end up wishing I had. Unlike today. I don't usually speak in class. In Bio, though, I did, twice. The first time, I apparently made my professor think I am a proponent of the Nazi human breeding program. The second time, I just got shut down, saying something without enough background on my thought process. I had actually changed my mind about saying what I did; I should have just said, "Never mind."
"Calm your nerves, don't worry, and just breathe." "Take my Hand" by The Cab
I should live by these words. I am a stressy person. I have often said that if I weren't stressed, I wouldn't know what to be.
"Who put that rock in your chest, won't you tell me? If I said I wished you the best, I was lying. Waking up just brings me down." "Lovesick Fool" by The Cab
I have thought for a while that I am not as emotional as the average person; unfortunately, without a brain scan, I have no solid evidence. Waking up usually reminds me how awkward I am and how much I do not fit in with other people. No fun.
"Your mouth, it moves, but fails to speak." "Bounce" by The Cab
I am blunt. Well, I'm either blunt or far too wordy. But honest, I am that. I often offend people. Those who lie, I don't understand them. How does one come to know someone who doesn't speak his or her thoughts?
"I'm your one and only only when you're lonely." "Temporary Bliss" by The Cab
There are several people I have applied similar sentiments to over the years. The list keeps growing, quickly.
"I bet you thought I'd through the fight, oh, you don't know just how low I can go." "The Boys You Do (Get Back at You)" by The Summer Set
I have mentioned in previous posts how most acquaintances I have formed since coming to uni have fallen apart. To a few, I have demonstrated some of the venom I have, and recently. I don't particularly like picturing myself as vindictive, but I can be.
"[...] that got me shaking like an addict." "Must be the Music" by The Summer Set
As I've said, today was not a good day. I was on the brink of a meltdown when I went to lunch before work. The cafeteria was really crowded. So I ate in about five minutes. While I was there, I saw someone to whom I knew I should talk. I was talking about wanting volunteering work over the summer, and someone suggested I talk to this guy. He's a forth-year, looks like Danny O'Donoghue - at least enough for a double-take - and is something of a distance runner on the track team. I've been intrigued by him since the end of September, though I'd never spoken to him before today. I don't know why he intrigues me, which makes me more curious. Anyway, he volunteers at camps for special needs kids over summers - according to the person who suggested I talk to him, he's practically eligible for sainthood. I wanted more information. He was leaving the cafeteria at the same time I did, so, having nothing more to lose today, I asked him about it. Presumably he had a class, so he asked for my e-mail address. I went to write down my uni e-mail address, only to see my hands shaking like a crack fiends. It's not like I wasn't already embarrassed, talking to a guy so far above me on the social hierarchy or anything. Of course, he was very nice, even shook my hand. He probably thinks I am completely mental.
"If you want promises, baby I got 'em; bought a plastic ring if you want it." "About a Girl" by The Summer Set
I am sick of promises. I am not actively wanting a boyfriend; it is there, in whatever region of my brain concerned with the biological imperative to procreate. That region hasn't realized that if I decide to have children, I will adopt. In any case, plastic rings are utterly sweet.
"Young and restless, dumb and fearless, fighting in the streets, will you remember me?" "When We Were Young" by The Summer Set
I don't particularly miss any of my ex interests or boyfriends. The two "official" relationships I have had were tumultuous, to say the least. As bad as they were, as naive as I was - and in many ways still am - and as brutal as the breakups were, I remember them. I hope I am not as easy to forget as I believe. Someday, maybe they will miss me, regret the choices they made. I don't regret mine.
"I'm moving on; living well is the best revenge." "Mannequin" by The Summer Set
I am determined to become all that I plan to be. I have moments of both happiness and profound disappointment, but I am living my life, my way. I believe I am living well.
"Jumped on a train, destination: anywhere." "Thick as Thieves" by The Summer Set
Days like today, I want to run away, or run toward a different life. If I didn't have a horse and had a passport, sometimes I think I would go vanish into the 7 billion - or more - people on Earth. Somewhere I am not disappointing people anymore, somewhere I could reinvent myself. But I know my demons would follow me. There is no leaving them behind.
"This will be our year to take it; we'll never be as young as we are tonight." "Young" by The Summer Set
I think it is good to be reminded that we are all dying, that time is ticking away moment by moment. So I go to concerts on a school night, blush profusely over nothing, act all weird when I'm hyper, go to my special place when I'm losing my mind, sing though I'm no good at it, and generally make choices I think will enrich my life; this is the only one I have - and the only one I want.
"There's been a breakdown, a mis-communication, because I can't be everything you want." "More than Lust" by Paradise Fears
This goes to what I said about my Bio class earlier. It also means exactly what it says: I can't be everything "you" want me to be. I can't make myself the genius I would like to be, my mom can't make me religious, and no one else can change my fundamental, strange, Genni-ness. Don't try. "You" are free to make your case for your point of view. I will listen. I don't promise to agree, but I can respect your opinion.
"Maybe I'm alone in this, but I find peace in solitude." "Blame it on the Rain" by He is We
I like being alone. Today, on the heels of having drums resonate in my skeleton, I chose solitude in having headphones in pretty much whenever possible and the volume three times what it usually is. It wasn't as good as last night, but it worked.
"Suddenly I'm feeling brave, don't know what's got into me." "All About Us" by He is We
When I'm suddenly feeling brave, it usually means I have nothing more to lose. Such as today with Distance Runner. Hearing this song last night, with Brian Dales from The Summer Set singing as well, I had dreams I didn't even know I had come true. And I have it recorded.
"Inhale, breathe steady, exhale, like you're ready, ready or not." "Happily Ever After" by He is We
I am not ready for my life, not for university, not for being around people so much, not for how much failure is possible. But my life is here and now. I may not be ready, but I have to do my best; I won't have a second chance.
I didn't have a lyric from last night's concert for this next little bit. I didn't see NeverShoutNever last night, but it is one of those songs.
"I've got my friends, but they don't know I've lost my soul." "Complex Heart" by NeverShoutNever
I've spoken to my mom about this, a couple other people. Today really solidified it for me. I've never been particularly emotional, but this was beyond non-emotional. In my Forensic Biology class, we started going over trauma injuries. Seeing pictures of multiple stab wounds and a nearly decapitated head were a little startling. The professor doesn't include those for shock value; it is relevant to the information. It wasn't that big of a deal to me. I sit in the front row, so I don't know how anyone else reacted. Then we went through gun shots. That was more interesting than disturbing. Until about halfway through class. There was a picture of a boy, four to six years old, I would guess, who had been shot point-blank in the temple, just behind his eyes. I didn't react a whole lot; like I said, I don't know if anyone else did. Internally though, I didn't really react either. About all I was was incensed by the senseless murder of innocent people, especially a child. How could I not react more? What is wrong with me? Granted, it's probably a good think since I plan to work with the dead.
Please, remember: I took the lyrics far out of context for my own purpose. The songs are almost all love songs.
If you need a little cheering up, this song is really, really sweet and I've listened to it thirty or so times writing while writing this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TdgpoG00m0
Thank you if you read the whole thing. If you didn't, I won't know; it was long.
- Genni
Top three worst feeling in my world: Feeling stupid, saying something that made sense in my head without enough explanation so someone thinks I am stupid - or a supporter of human breeding like the Nazis - and hitting that low where my day cannot possibly get worse without me losing my mind.
I'm trial running a new format tonight. I went to the Everything is Fine/Symphony Soldier concert in Cleveland last night, which was spectacular. Some of the songs stuck in my head. I'll use lyrics, mostly from songs played last night, to introduce a new point about my life. Allons-y!
"And I want to live, not just survive tonight." "Angel with a Shotgun" by The Cab
That was more or less the feeling I had this morning, under the "I want to keep sleeping," that is. The day did not turn out that way. It was definitely a "survive, and barely" day. After the excitement high I was on last night, it was even harder to take. Speaking of which, last night, I certainly felt alive. I was right next to a speaker, less than a foot from the stage. When the bands we playing, the drums and bass in my bones, the lyrics in my head, jumping with three hundred other people, it was like sharing a heartbeat.
"I'm an angel with a shotgun, fight until the war's won; I don't care if heaven won't take me back." "Angel with a Shotgun" by The Cab
For me, I just have that personality about most things. I want to accomplish something, I will. Whatever the cost to me, I will make it happen. Maybe it won't happen when I want it to, but it will happen.
"No one, one lives forever. We will be remembered for what we do right now [...] only the good die young, but the great will always last." "Living Louder" by The Cab
I don't really care if my memory lasts. I do want to accomplish something. I don't want to be remembered for being, doing, saying, and seeing nothing. Make the most of what I have, the lyric is a good reminder of this.
"This is a fight I refuse to lose." "I'll Run" by The Cab
Last year, in September, I told Gabriel: I am not good at being bad at things. It's true. I am not good at failing. I don't handle it well. I will go, again and again, until I have done whatever it was to a passable degree in my own mind. Which is why I will spend a ridiculous amount of time studying Biology the term t compensate for sounding dumb.
"I'm no angel; I'm just me." "Endlessly" by The Cab
I am not perfect. I can't be. I will try; I will fail. I will not be perfect in anyone else's eyes, and I won't try. I don't always say things clearly. Sometimes I swear, though usually in ASL now. I am not particularly pretty, talented, or intelligent, and I am not very friendly. But I am loyal, I work hard, and I insist on doing my best. Someday, perhaps someone will want what I have to offer.
"...Swallow the words I was meant to say." "Vegas Skies" by The Cab
I tend to do that, want to say something, then change my mind. I usually end up wishing I had. Unlike today. I don't usually speak in class. In Bio, though, I did, twice. The first time, I apparently made my professor think I am a proponent of the Nazi human breeding program. The second time, I just got shut down, saying something without enough background on my thought process. I had actually changed my mind about saying what I did; I should have just said, "Never mind."
"Calm your nerves, don't worry, and just breathe." "Take my Hand" by The Cab
I should live by these words. I am a stressy person. I have often said that if I weren't stressed, I wouldn't know what to be.
"Who put that rock in your chest, won't you tell me? If I said I wished you the best, I was lying. Waking up just brings me down." "Lovesick Fool" by The Cab
I have thought for a while that I am not as emotional as the average person; unfortunately, without a brain scan, I have no solid evidence. Waking up usually reminds me how awkward I am and how much I do not fit in with other people. No fun.
"Your mouth, it moves, but fails to speak." "Bounce" by The Cab
I am blunt. Well, I'm either blunt or far too wordy. But honest, I am that. I often offend people. Those who lie, I don't understand them. How does one come to know someone who doesn't speak his or her thoughts?
"I'm your one and only only when you're lonely." "Temporary Bliss" by The Cab
There are several people I have applied similar sentiments to over the years. The list keeps growing, quickly.
"I bet you thought I'd through the fight, oh, you don't know just how low I can go." "The Boys You Do (Get Back at You)" by The Summer Set
I have mentioned in previous posts how most acquaintances I have formed since coming to uni have fallen apart. To a few, I have demonstrated some of the venom I have, and recently. I don't particularly like picturing myself as vindictive, but I can be.
"[...] that got me shaking like an addict." "Must be the Music" by The Summer Set
As I've said, today was not a good day. I was on the brink of a meltdown when I went to lunch before work. The cafeteria was really crowded. So I ate in about five minutes. While I was there, I saw someone to whom I knew I should talk. I was talking about wanting volunteering work over the summer, and someone suggested I talk to this guy. He's a forth-year, looks like Danny O'Donoghue - at least enough for a double-take - and is something of a distance runner on the track team. I've been intrigued by him since the end of September, though I'd never spoken to him before today. I don't know why he intrigues me, which makes me more curious. Anyway, he volunteers at camps for special needs kids over summers - according to the person who suggested I talk to him, he's practically eligible for sainthood. I wanted more information. He was leaving the cafeteria at the same time I did, so, having nothing more to lose today, I asked him about it. Presumably he had a class, so he asked for my e-mail address. I went to write down my uni e-mail address, only to see my hands shaking like a crack fiends. It's not like I wasn't already embarrassed, talking to a guy so far above me on the social hierarchy or anything. Of course, he was very nice, even shook my hand. He probably thinks I am completely mental.
"If you want promises, baby I got 'em; bought a plastic ring if you want it." "About a Girl" by The Summer Set
I am sick of promises. I am not actively wanting a boyfriend; it is there, in whatever region of my brain concerned with the biological imperative to procreate. That region hasn't realized that if I decide to have children, I will adopt. In any case, plastic rings are utterly sweet.
"Young and restless, dumb and fearless, fighting in the streets, will you remember me?" "When We Were Young" by The Summer Set
I don't particularly miss any of my ex interests or boyfriends. The two "official" relationships I have had were tumultuous, to say the least. As bad as they were, as naive as I was - and in many ways still am - and as brutal as the breakups were, I remember them. I hope I am not as easy to forget as I believe. Someday, maybe they will miss me, regret the choices they made. I don't regret mine.
"I'm moving on; living well is the best revenge." "Mannequin" by The Summer Set
I am determined to become all that I plan to be. I have moments of both happiness and profound disappointment, but I am living my life, my way. I believe I am living well.
"Jumped on a train, destination: anywhere." "Thick as Thieves" by The Summer Set
Days like today, I want to run away, or run toward a different life. If I didn't have a horse and had a passport, sometimes I think I would go vanish into the 7 billion - or more - people on Earth. Somewhere I am not disappointing people anymore, somewhere I could reinvent myself. But I know my demons would follow me. There is no leaving them behind.
"This will be our year to take it; we'll never be as young as we are tonight." "Young" by The Summer Set
I think it is good to be reminded that we are all dying, that time is ticking away moment by moment. So I go to concerts on a school night, blush profusely over nothing, act all weird when I'm hyper, go to my special place when I'm losing my mind, sing though I'm no good at it, and generally make choices I think will enrich my life; this is the only one I have - and the only one I want.
"There's been a breakdown, a mis-communication, because I can't be everything you want." "More than Lust" by Paradise Fears
This goes to what I said about my Bio class earlier. It also means exactly what it says: I can't be everything "you" want me to be. I can't make myself the genius I would like to be, my mom can't make me religious, and no one else can change my fundamental, strange, Genni-ness. Don't try. "You" are free to make your case for your point of view. I will listen. I don't promise to agree, but I can respect your opinion.
"Maybe I'm alone in this, but I find peace in solitude." "Blame it on the Rain" by He is We
I like being alone. Today, on the heels of having drums resonate in my skeleton, I chose solitude in having headphones in pretty much whenever possible and the volume three times what it usually is. It wasn't as good as last night, but it worked.
"Suddenly I'm feeling brave, don't know what's got into me." "All About Us" by He is We
When I'm suddenly feeling brave, it usually means I have nothing more to lose. Such as today with Distance Runner. Hearing this song last night, with Brian Dales from The Summer Set singing as well, I had dreams I didn't even know I had come true. And I have it recorded.
"Inhale, breathe steady, exhale, like you're ready, ready or not." "Happily Ever After" by He is We
I am not ready for my life, not for university, not for being around people so much, not for how much failure is possible. But my life is here and now. I may not be ready, but I have to do my best; I won't have a second chance.
I didn't have a lyric from last night's concert for this next little bit. I didn't see NeverShoutNever last night, but it is one of those songs.
"I've got my friends, but they don't know I've lost my soul." "Complex Heart" by NeverShoutNever
I've spoken to my mom about this, a couple other people. Today really solidified it for me. I've never been particularly emotional, but this was beyond non-emotional. In my Forensic Biology class, we started going over trauma injuries. Seeing pictures of multiple stab wounds and a nearly decapitated head were a little startling. The professor doesn't include those for shock value; it is relevant to the information. It wasn't that big of a deal to me. I sit in the front row, so I don't know how anyone else reacted. Then we went through gun shots. That was more interesting than disturbing. Until about halfway through class. There was a picture of a boy, four to six years old, I would guess, who had been shot point-blank in the temple, just behind his eyes. I didn't react a whole lot; like I said, I don't know if anyone else did. Internally though, I didn't really react either. About all I was was incensed by the senseless murder of innocent people, especially a child. How could I not react more? What is wrong with me? Granted, it's probably a good think since I plan to work with the dead.
Please, remember: I took the lyrics far out of context for my own purpose. The songs are almost all love songs.
If you need a little cheering up, this song is really, really sweet and I've listened to it thirty or so times writing while writing this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TdgpoG00m0
Thank you if you read the whole thing. If you didn't, I won't know; it was long.
- Genni
Monday, January 30, 2012
Quick Update on the Craziness That is My Life
Hey everyone!
I just have a few free minutes right now and don't know when I will again, so here's a little tidbit.
My schedule was busy before today. I made it much more hectic today. I added an riding lesson (horses) once every two weeks. I am now auditing - unofficially - a French conversation class twice a week. I am also meeting with a French professor once a week and possibly a French tutor another day. I'm also helping two guys that were in my French class last term in French in exchange for them teaching me about British culture.
Basically, I've dropped the idea of keeping up with some television shows. I am going to be really busy, especially for the next six weeks; after that I'll have an extra four hours a week! I'm going to try to post pretty regularly. Please don't hold it against me if I don't. I want to still make YouTube videos, but we'll see how that works.
Au revior et j'taime,
-Genni
I just have a few free minutes right now and don't know when I will again, so here's a little tidbit.
My schedule was busy before today. I made it much more hectic today. I added an riding lesson (horses) once every two weeks. I am now auditing - unofficially - a French conversation class twice a week. I am also meeting with a French professor once a week and possibly a French tutor another day. I'm also helping two guys that were in my French class last term in French in exchange for them teaching me about British culture.
Basically, I've dropped the idea of keeping up with some television shows. I am going to be really busy, especially for the next six weeks; after that I'll have an extra four hours a week! I'm going to try to post pretty regularly. Please don't hold it against me if I don't. I want to still make YouTube videos, but we'll see how that works.
Au revior et j'taime,
-Genni
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Lost Potential
It's been a long week for me, and there are three days to go. Sometimes it seems the weeks that start with the most promise fall shortest. It makes sense: the more that is expected, the more that can be missed.
For a week that started on such a high note - classes starting again - it has just gotten lower since, with the exception of an occasional slight peak. In an effort to not depress readers and maybe cheer myself, here are the week's high notes, in no particular order: classes starting, finding out happy primes are real, understanding happy primes, and that's about it.
Tuesday's lunch (minor) fiasco started a definite downward trend for my mood. Since then, I've been getting more introverted, more avoidant, and felt more on the outside that usual. Among other things, I was right about a couple things, about one of which I really wanted to be wrong. For something I knew, it's amazing how disappointing being right can be.
So, I will be headed for bed soon, cuddling with Galifrey, the one protection I have against the nightmares plaguing me of late. Soon I'll post a few videos, especially the Catching Fire review.
I also decided that I am going to VidCon next year.
-Genni
For a week that started on such a high note - classes starting again - it has just gotten lower since, with the exception of an occasional slight peak. In an effort to not depress readers and maybe cheer myself, here are the week's high notes, in no particular order: classes starting, finding out happy primes are real, understanding happy primes, and that's about it.
Tuesday's lunch (minor) fiasco started a definite downward trend for my mood. Since then, I've been getting more introverted, more avoidant, and felt more on the outside that usual. Among other things, I was right about a couple things, about one of which I really wanted to be wrong. For something I knew, it's amazing how disappointing being right can be.
So, I will be headed for bed soon, cuddling with Galifrey, the one protection I have against the nightmares plaguing me of late. Soon I'll post a few videos, especially the Catching Fire review.
I also decided that I am going to VidCon next year.
-Genni
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Oi, That Didn't Go Well, Did It?
If somehow it has escaped notice thus far, I am a pretty serious geek, proud nerdfighter, deeply private, introverted, and nearly always choose books or the internet to socializing with people. Which is not to say I don't enjoy being around people; I do, provided the number of people is around five or fewer and those individuals are either intelligent or I am extremely hyper. Some people might hate spending as much time alone as I did over the winter holiday. I thrived and enjoyed it.
People started returning en mass on Saturday, the rest coming on Sunday. Seeing all the cars and the sudden sharp decrease in parking availability were annoying, but not much more. Classes started yesterday, which thrilled me. I have been around people since they came back to campus. Today, though, I went to lunch and my mental composure fell more than a little bit apart.
See, I do not like large crowds, I never have. That may seem odd from someone who enjoyed both public speaking and dancing in showcases. When a crowd is large and loud, I try to stay as far away as is reasonable. That was the cafeteria: large crowds of noisy, intense people. For someone as self conscious as I, that is not a good situation.
Add to that that I caught site of a couple of people I am semi-avoiding based on the self consciousness and making a minor fool of myself near those people for the majority of last semester and I vamoosed. My general feeling of panic actually did not subside when I had left the cafeteria. I made it back to my dorm room, realized that a mid-level panic attack set off a minor asthma attack, used my inhaler, and finally was able to talk to my roommate. I think it has been established that, if I go to lunch anymore, I'll be getting the eco-unfriendly "To Go" box and spending as little time as possible around all those people.
Thank you to everyone who reads this; I hope you enjoy it. Special thanks to Russian readers!
Love,
-Genni
Friday, January 20, 2012
"Catching Fire" Review
Remember how I liked The Hunger Games? The sequel is better. It should be. Again, it's well-written, 60% plot-driven, 40% character-driven. A few of the sentences I would have written differently, but it works to carry the story.
I would say the best thing about this book is how it logically builds off the first book. Sequels don't always do that. This took what one knew and went from there. It could almost be a stand-alone book.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, it felt rushed in parts. Maybe not even rushed so much as I wanted more information than was given. It's about the same length as The Hunger Games and I wonder if Ms. Collins' felt pressure to keep this one about the same length. Most of the time when a week or so is skipped, it doesn't bother me. A couple times, though, why? I felt that lack of information in the ending especially. It wasn't needed to entice someone to read the third book; the hook for that was set quite well.
Other than that, this book lacked the backstory bits of the first book. Plenty from the first book is explained, enough that someone could just read Catching Fire. People who read the first book don't need that. A little bit is okay. Other backstory, though, that was missing.
Overall, of course, I really liked the book. It's well written with relateable characters, but the characters are solid enough that someone can't project themselves. I would like some more strength to them, but they've built from the first book, personalities expanded and that is excellent.
I suppose my greatest question is how Ms. Collins meant this series to be read. Did she just write a captivating story? Is it meant to make people think about our political systems and the shallow way first-worlders look at the world? Is it meant to be a nudge to consider such a rebellion, if not now, then in the future?
Cheers,
-Genni
I would say the best thing about this book is how it logically builds off the first book. Sequels don't always do that. This took what one knew and went from there. It could almost be a stand-alone book.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, it felt rushed in parts. Maybe not even rushed so much as I wanted more information than was given. It's about the same length as The Hunger Games and I wonder if Ms. Collins' felt pressure to keep this one about the same length. Most of the time when a week or so is skipped, it doesn't bother me. A couple times, though, why? I felt that lack of information in the ending especially. It wasn't needed to entice someone to read the third book; the hook for that was set quite well.
Other than that, this book lacked the backstory bits of the first book. Plenty from the first book is explained, enough that someone could just read Catching Fire. People who read the first book don't need that. A little bit is okay. Other backstory, though, that was missing.
Overall, of course, I really liked the book. It's well written with relateable characters, but the characters are solid enough that someone can't project themselves. I would like some more strength to them, but they've built from the first book, personalities expanded and that is excellent.
I suppose my greatest question is how Ms. Collins meant this series to be read. Did she just write a captivating story? Is it meant to make people think about our political systems and the shallow way first-worlders look at the world? Is it meant to be a nudge to consider such a rebellion, if not now, then in the future?
Cheers,
-Genni
At Last
There are certain feelings that I do not believe can be matched. Understanding a mathematical formula one has struggled with for any amount of time; holding a newborn infant; watching a goat kid and seeing the raw promise the world holds; opening a book - any book, but especially a hardcover - that no one else had yet opened. Those a some of my favorite moments. The one I just experienced is opening, finally, my copy of Suzanne Collins' Catching Fire. At this moment, before reading a single word, this book is full to bursting with potential. All I know is the feeling of being the first person to open this copy of the book is the purest form of exhilaration I have felt in months.
Much love,
-Genni
Much love,
-Genni
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
"Guts" Review
I have finished my second of the twenty-two books on my New Year's Resolution list, the twenty-two books I own but have not yet read. This second book was short, maybe two hours of solid reading. Guts by Gary Paulsen details some of the experiences Mr. Paulsen had that led to and ultimately shaped Hatchet especially, but also Brian's Winter and The River.
Much of it is about hunting, trial-and-error, the major role hunting played in Mr. Paulsen's life from a young age and other basic challenges of wilderness survival. More than once he was attacked by a moose. He was bitten by rattlesnakes, stalked by mountain lions, threatened by bears, even witnessed a four-year old boy killed by a white-tale buck in a national park.
He was in two plane accidents; neither was ultimately a crash, but both could have killed him and the pilot. He learned to fly a plane. For several years he served as an emergency response person, often the only one. He witnessed many heart attacks, including the one that was morphed into the pilot's death in Hatchet. As of 2001, Mr. Paulsen had run two Iditarods.
Put simply, Mr. Paulsen has survived what many can not even imagine. He has eaten what we take for granted. I say "we" because, if one has internet, one has likely never known true, deep hunger.
When all is said and done, that is what I find most fascinating, is not what he has eaten, but the depth of survival instinct. I know how strong it is. More than once I was on the brink of defying it. Each time one of two things happened: either the subconscious desire to live was strong enough or, before it got to that point, I found something, or someone, to live for when I didn't want to live for myself.
I am currently a vegetarian. I don't eat meat, mostly because I don't much like the taste. It also reminds me of human flesh. I hadn't thought much about from where meat came. I grew up in a town where a good percentage of people hunted. I had seen deer strung up to drain in my garage. I had fished, gutting my catches. I never thought meat magically appeared in shop coolers. Growing up in a first world country, though, most people are separated from the source, not just physically, but mentally.
Last winter, though, I trained to be an EMR or Emergency Medical Responder so I could help run on ambulances. At one point in the training, I looked through some of the textbooks for higher levels of ambulance training. Some of the pictures in those books are incredible, to the point where one can't imagine a situation where whatever injury could even be possible; in practice, I never saw anything bloody. Some of those pictures, though, stuck with me.
I had been playing with the idea of becoming a vegetarian for a year or two. When I saw that to the eye, there is very little physical difference between human flesh and any red meat. As I mentioned, I didn't really like meat. It was pretty easy for me to give up meat. It was funny how quickly I lost the taste for it. At first, I just quite red meat, then poultry and fish. About a month after I had essentially quit all meat, my mom cooked salmon. Salmon had always been my favorite. I chose to try a bit. It was utterly unappealing; I think I actually gagged.
The point of the drawn out I-am-a-vegetarian-and-here's-why is, if it came down to survival or eating meat, I know I would choose meat. Survival is the single greatest instinct in any animal, and at the most simplistic definition, that is what humans are: animals.
If and when the day comes that the society in the U.S. crumbles, many thousands, millions, even, of people will starve. People in cities have almost no resources if food shipments fail. They don't know how to hunt, to fish, to produce plants or butcher animals. But they will fight to survive.
Other than the simple observation that plants are fascinating, the reason I am most looking forward to taking a botany course is to learn about edible plants. If the day comes when our society is forced to revert to hunting and gathering, a knowledge of edible plants would at least buy me time to learn to hunt and reacquaint myself with fishing.
In short, I liked the book, which is no surprise since I loved Hatchet when I was younger and just re-read it two months ago.
For now, though, I am able to be a vegetarian by choice and the most dangerous thing I have encountered recently was an angry girlfriend who thought I wanted her boyfriend because I texted him for ten minutes.
Cheers,
-Genni
Much of it is about hunting, trial-and-error, the major role hunting played in Mr. Paulsen's life from a young age and other basic challenges of wilderness survival. More than once he was attacked by a moose. He was bitten by rattlesnakes, stalked by mountain lions, threatened by bears, even witnessed a four-year old boy killed by a white-tale buck in a national park.
He was in two plane accidents; neither was ultimately a crash, but both could have killed him and the pilot. He learned to fly a plane. For several years he served as an emergency response person, often the only one. He witnessed many heart attacks, including the one that was morphed into the pilot's death in Hatchet. As of 2001, Mr. Paulsen had run two Iditarods.
Put simply, Mr. Paulsen has survived what many can not even imagine. He has eaten what we take for granted. I say "we" because, if one has internet, one has likely never known true, deep hunger.
When all is said and done, that is what I find most fascinating, is not what he has eaten, but the depth of survival instinct. I know how strong it is. More than once I was on the brink of defying it. Each time one of two things happened: either the subconscious desire to live was strong enough or, before it got to that point, I found something, or someone, to live for when I didn't want to live for myself.
I am currently a vegetarian. I don't eat meat, mostly because I don't much like the taste. It also reminds me of human flesh. I hadn't thought much about from where meat came. I grew up in a town where a good percentage of people hunted. I had seen deer strung up to drain in my garage. I had fished, gutting my catches. I never thought meat magically appeared in shop coolers. Growing up in a first world country, though, most people are separated from the source, not just physically, but mentally.
Last winter, though, I trained to be an EMR or Emergency Medical Responder so I could help run on ambulances. At one point in the training, I looked through some of the textbooks for higher levels of ambulance training. Some of the pictures in those books are incredible, to the point where one can't imagine a situation where whatever injury could even be possible; in practice, I never saw anything bloody. Some of those pictures, though, stuck with me.
I had been playing with the idea of becoming a vegetarian for a year or two. When I saw that to the eye, there is very little physical difference between human flesh and any red meat. As I mentioned, I didn't really like meat. It was pretty easy for me to give up meat. It was funny how quickly I lost the taste for it. At first, I just quite red meat, then poultry and fish. About a month after I had essentially quit all meat, my mom cooked salmon. Salmon had always been my favorite. I chose to try a bit. It was utterly unappealing; I think I actually gagged.
The point of the drawn out I-am-a-vegetarian-and-here's-why is, if it came down to survival or eating meat, I know I would choose meat. Survival is the single greatest instinct in any animal, and at the most simplistic definition, that is what humans are: animals.
If and when the day comes that the society in the U.S. crumbles, many thousands, millions, even, of people will starve. People in cities have almost no resources if food shipments fail. They don't know how to hunt, to fish, to produce plants or butcher animals. But they will fight to survive.
Other than the simple observation that plants are fascinating, the reason I am most looking forward to taking a botany course is to learn about edible plants. If the day comes when our society is forced to revert to hunting and gathering, a knowledge of edible plants would at least buy me time to learn to hunt and reacquaint myself with fishing.
In short, I liked the book, which is no surprise since I loved Hatchet when I was younger and just re-read it two months ago.
For now, though, I am able to be a vegetarian by choice and the most dangerous thing I have encountered recently was an angry girlfriend who thought I wanted her boyfriend because I texted him for ten minutes.
Cheers,
-Genni
Friday, January 13, 2012
The Great White North
I had very simple plans for today. None have worked. I was supposed to go to work. Gerry, my car, is apparently sick. Since I work about 20 miles from where I am, I had no way to get there. Other than that, I wanted to go see Beauty and the Beast in theatres today. With no car and the nearest theatre 9-ish miles away, that isn't happening either.
I did, however, locate and visit the local library. I now have three active library cards. Oh yes. It isn't far, about one mile. I did walk, obviously. I like to walk. Walking in the snow, not so much.
I love snow. I like winter. I am all for multiple feet of snow. What I am not for is the, to me, weird way people here in Ohio handle winter.
I woke up to the second significant snow of the year...about an inch. That hardly qualifies. By all accounts of natives, this has been a really funky winter. Temperatures were in the high 40s last week! Anyhow, point being: there is snow on the ground. Unfortunately, there is also wind. Of all weather conditions, I despise wind. There is nothing pleasant about a swift breeze kicking snow in one's face.
For anyone not familiar with snow, there are different types. There is light, fluffy, pretty snow that is absolutely worthless when it comes to snowballs. There is perfect snowball snow, heavier, less fluffy. There is wet snow that makes life a little miserable. Nothing can be done with it; it is barely more frozen than slush. Then there is snow like what is on the ground here right now: hard, dry, tiny flakes. This is the snow that stings like hail. Combine with wind and no one is happy.
Taking to another topic, I think there are two types of places that get serious winters: ones that are good at handling it and ones that always seem to be surprised. I lived in Oregon for almost eighteen years. I lived in Alaska for six months when I was two, not that I remember it. Ohio, people don't seem to understand snow. I was here last winter and now a little bit this year, people seem to be completely off-guard. I don't get it.
I don't like to drive in the snow, partly because there are too many variables, even on perfect roads. This is compounded by the fact that how most people drive in Ohio freaks me out on good roads. In ice, well, I just try to avoid that.
It doesn't makes sense that somewhere like Ohio is like this. In Arizona or Eugene, Oregon, even Portland, Oregon, it might make sense. Snow isn't super common. Ohio usually gets multiple feet. It should not be unexpected. Oregon is definitely better at winter.
For the record, I know people who refuse to go to Portland and Eugene if there is snow. Those Oregonians may have driving in the rain down pat, but snow...not even close.
I love the library!
J'taime,
-Genni
I did, however, locate and visit the local library. I now have three active library cards. Oh yes. It isn't far, about one mile. I did walk, obviously. I like to walk. Walking in the snow, not so much.
I love snow. I like winter. I am all for multiple feet of snow. What I am not for is the, to me, weird way people here in Ohio handle winter.
I woke up to the second significant snow of the year...about an inch. That hardly qualifies. By all accounts of natives, this has been a really funky winter. Temperatures were in the high 40s last week! Anyhow, point being: there is snow on the ground. Unfortunately, there is also wind. Of all weather conditions, I despise wind. There is nothing pleasant about a swift breeze kicking snow in one's face.
For anyone not familiar with snow, there are different types. There is light, fluffy, pretty snow that is absolutely worthless when it comes to snowballs. There is perfect snowball snow, heavier, less fluffy. There is wet snow that makes life a little miserable. Nothing can be done with it; it is barely more frozen than slush. Then there is snow like what is on the ground here right now: hard, dry, tiny flakes. This is the snow that stings like hail. Combine with wind and no one is happy.
Taking to another topic, I think there are two types of places that get serious winters: ones that are good at handling it and ones that always seem to be surprised. I lived in Oregon for almost eighteen years. I lived in Alaska for six months when I was two, not that I remember it. Ohio, people don't seem to understand snow. I was here last winter and now a little bit this year, people seem to be completely off-guard. I don't get it.
I don't like to drive in the snow, partly because there are too many variables, even on perfect roads. This is compounded by the fact that how most people drive in Ohio freaks me out on good roads. In ice, well, I just try to avoid that.
It doesn't makes sense that somewhere like Ohio is like this. In Arizona or Eugene, Oregon, even Portland, Oregon, it might make sense. Snow isn't super common. Ohio usually gets multiple feet. It should not be unexpected. Oregon is definitely better at winter.
For the record, I know people who refuse to go to Portland and Eugene if there is snow. Those Oregonians may have driving in the rain down pat, but snow...not even close.
I love the library!
J'taime,
-Genni
Thursday, January 12, 2012
"The Last of the Mohicans" Review
It is finished! This moment has been twenty three days in the making. In truth, I did not read this book every day. I very rarely take more than two weeks to read a book; I often take less than four days. This was clearly an exception to my general reading trend.
The Last of the Mohicans was written by James Fenimore Cooper in 1826. I did not particularly enjoy this book. I was not much interested in the story line, possibly because I did not care about the the characters. Not one of the characters did I like. It was, for me, a dry, drawn-out tale of two-dimensional characters.
The writing itself bothered me. A line from Sarah Dessen's book Along for the Ride comes to mind: My dad never said a sentence when he could go on for a paragraph (p. 69). I could imply the same about Mr. Cooper. I am certain that a good deal of my displeasure with the writing in this book is greatly tied to the - nearly - two centuries between it's writing and now.
I had some degree of appreciation for two aspects of the book: occasional French and political practice. I am striving to learn the French language, so it was neat to challenge myself to ascertain the meaning of said passages. See, I am not opposed to longer sentences in practice. I prefer sentences of varying lengths.
As for political practice, the major antagonist was, by all accounts, a brilliant politician. He manipulated people quite easily, in so crafty a manner as to convince them it was their own thought. He knew the balance of flattery, condemnation, reminders, and vengeance that would result in the outcome he desired.
I am not particularly interested in practical politics. I think the current status of the U. S. of A. government has been warped to a point where it is beyond redemption. For instance: WikiLeaks. There was a big uproar about this a few years ago. I wasn't interested at the time. I have realized something that baffles me about it.
The situation - as I understand it - was that confidential government files were "leaked" online. On the one hand, yes, potential disaster from a Homeland Security. More relevantly, why were there any such files? The United States of America is supposed - here meaning "called or said to be, impersonating - a transparent government, i.e. the public is to be in full knowledge of government actions.
Political theory and how people communicate, manipulate, orchestrate and maneuver events to suit their fancy, that I find fascinating. I have strayed from my original tack.
My last main complaint about this book is the narrator. The narrator is not present for most of the book. When he or she is, I am very quickly exasperated. He or she is irritating, condescending and extremely wordy. Sometimes he or she "speaks" in the prose, other times, in footnotes. Said footnotes more often constitute a paragraph.
If one is wondering, no, I am not strictly anti-narrator. Lemony Snickit I adored.
Overall, my summation of this book can be taken from the "Editor's Note" at the novel's close, "By even the most charitable standards, Cooper was no polished craftsman: his descriptions are often verbose, his characters oversimplified, their dialogue silted, and their actions improbable (p. 413)."
The only contradiction I offer is on the final note. My brothers and I all enjoy Clive Cussler, Jack DuBurl, and James Rollins novels; Dirk Pitt, Kurt Austin, Juan Cabrillo, Phillip Mercer, Painter Crow, and the other various characters of other various similar novels are all about improbable actions. Perhaps it was different in 1984 when the edition I own was printed.
All in all, I am considering getting rid of this book. However, as I am generally loathe to do so, I will likely keep it, read it again, then decide. People have been reading Cooper's work for nearly 200 years. Maybe I will find the world of his creation more appealing when I revisit it.
Much love,
-Genni
The Last of the Mohicans was written by James Fenimore Cooper in 1826. I did not particularly enjoy this book. I was not much interested in the story line, possibly because I did not care about the the characters. Not one of the characters did I like. It was, for me, a dry, drawn-out tale of two-dimensional characters.
The writing itself bothered me. A line from Sarah Dessen's book Along for the Ride comes to mind: My dad never said a sentence when he could go on for a paragraph (p. 69). I could imply the same about Mr. Cooper. I am certain that a good deal of my displeasure with the writing in this book is greatly tied to the - nearly - two centuries between it's writing and now.
I had some degree of appreciation for two aspects of the book: occasional French and political practice. I am striving to learn the French language, so it was neat to challenge myself to ascertain the meaning of said passages. See, I am not opposed to longer sentences in practice. I prefer sentences of varying lengths.
As for political practice, the major antagonist was, by all accounts, a brilliant politician. He manipulated people quite easily, in so crafty a manner as to convince them it was their own thought. He knew the balance of flattery, condemnation, reminders, and vengeance that would result in the outcome he desired.
I am not particularly interested in practical politics. I think the current status of the U. S. of A. government has been warped to a point where it is beyond redemption. For instance: WikiLeaks. There was a big uproar about this a few years ago. I wasn't interested at the time. I have realized something that baffles me about it.
The situation - as I understand it - was that confidential government files were "leaked" online. On the one hand, yes, potential disaster from a Homeland Security. More relevantly, why were there any such files? The United States of America is supposed - here meaning "called or said to be, impersonating - a transparent government, i.e. the public is to be in full knowledge of government actions.
Political theory and how people communicate, manipulate, orchestrate and maneuver events to suit their fancy, that I find fascinating. I have strayed from my original tack.
My last main complaint about this book is the narrator. The narrator is not present for most of the book. When he or she is, I am very quickly exasperated. He or she is irritating, condescending and extremely wordy. Sometimes he or she "speaks" in the prose, other times, in footnotes. Said footnotes more often constitute a paragraph.
If one is wondering, no, I am not strictly anti-narrator. Lemony Snickit I adored.
Overall, my summation of this book can be taken from the "Editor's Note" at the novel's close, "By even the most charitable standards, Cooper was no polished craftsman: his descriptions are often verbose, his characters oversimplified, their dialogue silted, and their actions improbable (p. 413)."
The only contradiction I offer is on the final note. My brothers and I all enjoy Clive Cussler, Jack DuBurl, and James Rollins novels; Dirk Pitt, Kurt Austin, Juan Cabrillo, Phillip Mercer, Painter Crow, and the other various characters of other various similar novels are all about improbable actions. Perhaps it was different in 1984 when the edition I own was printed.
All in all, I am considering getting rid of this book. However, as I am generally loathe to do so, I will likely keep it, read it again, then decide. People have been reading Cooper's work for nearly 200 years. Maybe I will find the world of his creation more appealing when I revisit it.
Much love,
-Genni
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Bend-it-Break-it-Let's-See-Where-This-Takes-Us
I have been thinking for the last few days about a former friend. It happens every time I listen to certain bands, like hellogoodbye or The Academy Is... It's been nearly a year since we last spoke and longer than that since we've been close.
She was my best friend for so long. She knew just about everything. When I needed to talk to someone, it was to her that I would turn. She helped me conquer demons before others even knew they existed. For some reason, we started to fall apart. Maybe we had outlived our time. Even after I moved, we held it together for a while. We weren't as close, but we still talked every couple days.
We were always so different. I, the introverted, academic rule-follower; she the bend-it-break-it-see-where-this-takes-us. It didn't seem like such a big deal through primary school. Into seventh year, it got a smidge weird. She was a track runner, but in the off-season she was all for trying other things. Being her, she didn't have any trouble when she wanted a boyfriend. So the progression began, leading to drinking, drugs, short-lived flings with aspiring rock stars - though they did have tour dates booked as openers - and pregnancy scares. I didn't join her; it didn't much appeal to me.
We were still pretty close. I was always there for her, until I realized two things: she kept having the same problems, like clockwork, every couple months. Those were the times she would call me at midnight, crying, and I would wake up or lay aside my school work. About six months after that epiphany, I needed to talk. She didn't have time. She didn't have time when I needed her and didn't know where else to turn, not then, not after. Our phone calls and conversations became monologues about her life. That in itself didn't bother me so much as that I was not important, at all, seemingly.
I broke it off, stopped calling, stopped checking in online. As of now, she doesn't have any way to get in touch with me. When I moved, I didn't give her my new mobile number. I gave up on her.
In certain light, I feel guilty about it. Usually, I know I made the right move, for me. I needed to move forward. I miss her. I miss our friendship. I miss knowing she had someone reliable and responsible to look out for her, someone who wouldn't be passed out at a party when she needed them. C'est la vie. I cannot change what has happened.
Lindsey, if you ever come across this: I miss you. I love you. Please be careful.
With love,
Genni a.k.a. Glitterface
P.S.
In another direction, this video is incredible. It is also analogous to one of the many, many reasons I do not want a smartphone.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuX7qTKzouo
She was my best friend for so long. She knew just about everything. When I needed to talk to someone, it was to her that I would turn. She helped me conquer demons before others even knew they existed. For some reason, we started to fall apart. Maybe we had outlived our time. Even after I moved, we held it together for a while. We weren't as close, but we still talked every couple days.
We were always so different. I, the introverted, academic rule-follower; she the bend-it-break-it-see-where-this-takes-us. It didn't seem like such a big deal through primary school. Into seventh year, it got a smidge weird. She was a track runner, but in the off-season she was all for trying other things. Being her, she didn't have any trouble when she wanted a boyfriend. So the progression began, leading to drinking, drugs, short-lived flings with aspiring rock stars - though they did have tour dates booked as openers - and pregnancy scares. I didn't join her; it didn't much appeal to me.
We were still pretty close. I was always there for her, until I realized two things: she kept having the same problems, like clockwork, every couple months. Those were the times she would call me at midnight, crying, and I would wake up or lay aside my school work. About six months after that epiphany, I needed to talk. She didn't have time. She didn't have time when I needed her and didn't know where else to turn, not then, not after. Our phone calls and conversations became monologues about her life. That in itself didn't bother me so much as that I was not important, at all, seemingly.
I broke it off, stopped calling, stopped checking in online. As of now, she doesn't have any way to get in touch with me. When I moved, I didn't give her my new mobile number. I gave up on her.
In certain light, I feel guilty about it. Usually, I know I made the right move, for me. I needed to move forward. I miss her. I miss our friendship. I miss knowing she had someone reliable and responsible to look out for her, someone who wouldn't be passed out at a party when she needed them. C'est la vie. I cannot change what has happened.
Lindsey, if you ever come across this: I miss you. I love you. Please be careful.
With love,
Genni a.k.a. Glitterface
P.S.
In another direction, this video is incredible. It is also analogous to one of the many, many reasons I do not want a smartphone.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuX7qTKzouo
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