A few days ago, I was digging around at home in the spare room/library for a few new books to read, when I saw my old copy of All Creatures Great and Small from across the room. I actually clapped my hands in nostalgic delight, and started extracting it from the messy bookcase, when a hardback fell out and onto my foot. I yelped and picked it up and it turned out to be a copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes that I didn't even know I had.
JOHN IS THAT YOU.
(Man, I should just read the flipping stories already. BUT NOT BEFORE JAMES HERRIOT. BUT I WILL READ THEM THIS SUMMER, GOSH, I FEEL LIKE THEY'RE STALKING ME...)
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
My Friend Elizabeth
"I suggest that the only books that influence us are those for which we are ready, and which have gone a little farther down our particular path than we have yet got ourselves.
~E.M. Forster
My experience with Jane Austen is a bit shameful for an English major student who grew up with an English Lit teacher for a mother. It wasn't for lack of trying on my mom's part, you can be sure. She started quietly recommending Pride and Prejudice when I was in middle school, and then pointedly insisting that we would read it together in the summer when we both finished up for the year. (We never quiet got around to this, because we would both be exhausted and just collapse for a few weeks, and forget our plans altogether). She would laugh loudly through the beginning of the book and then ask if I wanted to read her spare copy as she prepared to teach it to her new class in the fall.
My friend Rachael sighed in delight over it when she read it in high school and made me watch the famous BBC mini series with Colin Firth with her. With all that, I only just actually read Pride and Prejudice this past semester for my British Lit class.
It felt a bit like spending the weekend with a cousin that you've visited once a year for as long as you can remember, who's very smart and all-around wonderful according to everyone, but you don't really have a personal opinion on her because you've never really talked to her since she's so much older than you, though you've seen her from afar a lot. Then suddenly, you're both in your twenties, and the age difference doesn't seem so bad now, so you talk and just click. She definitely lives up to the hype, once she becomes a personal friend, and you have woven her into your smallish group of friends.
That is far too insane and personification-y of a metaphor to drag out for so long, but really, that book is such fun, and I quite loved it. I tend to be intimidated by classic literature, which is something I am working at changing. Talking to Janelle the other day, I compared Classics with my parents' friends, who I was very polite, very shy and a bit afraid during interactions with them, but who I'm more confident but still shy around. They are older, more talented, and more respected than me, and that makes me nervous even though I know I can learn from them.
The point is, it was wonderful experiencing the quiet, warm shift into making this Classic, so often placed on so high a pedestal, an approachable personal favorite. It took a while, but I hope it won't be a unique experience.
~E.M. Forster
My experience with Jane Austen is a bit shameful for an English major student who grew up with an English Lit teacher for a mother. It wasn't for lack of trying on my mom's part, you can be sure. She started quietly recommending Pride and Prejudice when I was in middle school, and then pointedly insisting that we would read it together in the summer when we both finished up for the year. (We never quiet got around to this, because we would both be exhausted and just collapse for a few weeks, and forget our plans altogether). She would laugh loudly through the beginning of the book and then ask if I wanted to read her spare copy as she prepared to teach it to her new class in the fall.
My friend Rachael sighed in delight over it when she read it in high school and made me watch the famous BBC mini series with Colin Firth with her. With all that, I only just actually read Pride and Prejudice this past semester for my British Lit class.
It felt a bit like spending the weekend with a cousin that you've visited once a year for as long as you can remember, who's very smart and all-around wonderful according to everyone, but you don't really have a personal opinion on her because you've never really talked to her since she's so much older than you, though you've seen her from afar a lot. Then suddenly, you're both in your twenties, and the age difference doesn't seem so bad now, so you talk and just click. She definitely lives up to the hype, once she becomes a personal friend, and you have woven her into your smallish group of friends.
That is far too insane and personification-y of a metaphor to drag out for so long, but really, that book is such fun, and I quite loved it. I tend to be intimidated by classic literature, which is something I am working at changing. Talking to Janelle the other day, I compared Classics with my parents' friends, who I was very polite, very shy and a bit afraid during interactions with them, but who I'm more confident but still shy around. They are older, more talented, and more respected than me, and that makes me nervous even though I know I can learn from them.
The point is, it was wonderful experiencing the quiet, warm shift into making this Classic, so often placed on so high a pedestal, an approachable personal favorite. It took a while, but I hope it won't be a unique experience.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Boys' Books
For swearing a dislike for the outdoors when I was a kid, I read a lot of books about the outdoors. Books that are often categorized as “Boys’ Books,” because they’re about finding oneself in the wilderness, or struggling against the wilderness, or whatever.
I was all about Jack London books when I was in middle school, White Fang and The Call of the Wild especially. The third book in Jean Craighead George’s Julie of the Wolves series, Julie’s Wolf Pack, was also a favorite, even more so than the first book, because it was only about the interactions between the wolf packs in a small region of Alaska, and included few human characters.
Later, I enjoyed what were probably abridged versions of Victorian era sci-fi and adventure, like H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth, H. Rider Haggard’s King Solomon’s Mines, all that business. My grandmother tried to interest me in Little House on the Prairie by giving me a new book in the series for each special occasion, and I would thank her, read one chapter to be polite, and then set it aside to find out once again if Buck the kidnapped half-wolf dog would survive the epic battle with Spitz, the alpha of the sled dog team. My mom would edge Jane Austen novels over the table at me during the summer, and I would nod at her absently as I read of White Fang’s struggle against humanity.
People made me nervous and bored in real life and in books, when I was an adolescent; 12+ish, I mean. I was All About people when I was in preschool and grade school, but that changed really quick when I suddenly changed environments and I discovered my deep loathing of dramatic change. Maybe I’m over exaggerating my shyness at the time, but considering the energy I spent agonizing over strategies of how to win friends, I’m not that sure. Oh man, I had strategies! Anyway, I was a nervous kid, but BOOKS; So great!
I was all about Jack London books when I was in middle school, White Fang and The Call of the Wild especially. The third book in Jean Craighead George’s Julie of the Wolves series, Julie’s Wolf Pack, was also a favorite, even more so than the first book, because it was only about the interactions between the wolf packs in a small region of Alaska, and included few human characters.
Later, I enjoyed what were probably abridged versions of Victorian era sci-fi and adventure, like H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth, H. Rider Haggard’s King Solomon’s Mines, all that business. My grandmother tried to interest me in Little House on the Prairie by giving me a new book in the series for each special occasion, and I would thank her, read one chapter to be polite, and then set it aside to find out once again if Buck the kidnapped half-wolf dog would survive the epic battle with Spitz, the alpha of the sled dog team. My mom would edge Jane Austen novels over the table at me during the summer, and I would nod at her absently as I read of White Fang’s struggle against humanity.
People made me nervous and bored in real life and in books, when I was an adolescent; 12+ish, I mean. I was All About people when I was in preschool and grade school, but that changed really quick when I suddenly changed environments and I discovered my deep loathing of dramatic change. Maybe I’m over exaggerating my shyness at the time, but considering the energy I spent agonizing over strategies of how to win friends, I’m not that sure. Oh man, I had strategies! Anyway, I was a nervous kid, but BOOKS; So great!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Early Summer Conversations With Myself
Oh my gosh, my laziness seriously frightens me in its intensity. I am so lazy, I'm too lazy to go to sleep, which doesn't even make sense. This past year just took everything out of me, ambition, hopes and dreams....
Tomorrow I am just going to make lists and clean the house. Maybe get some food that isn't takeout and coleslaw that my dad made with like, a whole jar of mayonnaise. AND I WILL DEFINITELY NOT STAY UP UNTIL 3 IN THE MORNING LAUGHING UNTIL I CRY AT STUPID THINGS I FIND ON THE INTERNET. LIKE, A HUGE TUMBLR ACCOUNT DEDICATED TO PHOTOS OF ROBERT DOWNEY JR. WITH MAN PURSES. OR "WIZARD PEOPLE, DEAR READERS" ON YOUTUBE FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME. OR WHATEVER.
GOD HOW IS THIS MY LIFE. NINE YEAR OLD ME WOULD BE SO DISAPPOINTED.
"NINE YEAR OLD ME, IT'S FUNNY, BECAUSE PURSES."
"WHYYYYYYYYYYYY"
Tomorrow I am just going to make lists and clean the house. Maybe get some food that isn't takeout and coleslaw that my dad made with like, a whole jar of mayonnaise. AND I WILL DEFINITELY NOT STAY UP UNTIL 3 IN THE MORNING LAUGHING UNTIL I CRY AT STUPID THINGS I FIND ON THE INTERNET. LIKE, A HUGE TUMBLR ACCOUNT DEDICATED TO PHOTOS OF ROBERT DOWNEY JR. WITH MAN PURSES. OR "WIZARD PEOPLE, DEAR READERS" ON YOUTUBE FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME. OR WHATEVER.
GOD HOW IS THIS MY LIFE. NINE YEAR OLD ME WOULD BE SO DISAPPOINTED.
"NINE YEAR OLD ME, IT'S FUNNY, BECAUSE PURSES."
"WHYYYYYYYYYYYY"
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Movies of My Youth
I consider myself somewhat of a Night Owl now, but when I was a kid I was an Early Bird. I would kind of pass out around 8:30 or 9 PM, and then wake up at 4. Usually my parents refused to get up, which was lame, so I’d watch movies or read a book downstairs by myself. Usually read a book because I didn’t have that many movies, but the ones I did have I remember pretty vividly.
“The Lion King” was my favorite for ages, and I would roll around on the floor pretending to be a lion, or pose dramatically on the couch. God help my poor cat if he ever ambled by, because he would instantly be snatched up and hoisted into the air, as THE NEW PRINCE OF PRIDE ROCK or whatever. And when Mufasa died it would totally tear me up, I cannot even explain to you.
“Toy Story” was a big deal, too. The computer animation enthralled me, and that part when Woody finds Buzz depressed and dressed as a doll by that evil kid’s sister cracked me up EVERY TIME. “I’M MRS. NESBIT NOW.” It was not a helpful movie for packrats like me, I can tell you that. I even worried about throwing away Happy Meal toys after watching it.
If I was feeling daring, it was “The Great Mouse Detective,” which I loved but also scared the crap out of me, especially that part where they’re creeping around in the toy store (I think it was a toy store?). THAT FREAKING JACK-IN-THE-BOX AND THE PEG-LEGGED BAT, OH MY GOD. Were the toys alive? I vaguely remember that maybe they were alive, oh man. And the end battle, OH GOD DON’T DIEEEEEEEE BASILLLLLLLL WHO WILL SOLVE CRIME IF YOU DO HELP HIM DAWSON YOU FAT INCOMPETENT FOOL. SO STRESSFUL but also SO FIERCE I don’t even know.
I also liked “Fly Away Home,” because I liked to imagine being the leader of geese. We have a lot of Canada geese that live around our pond, so I guess I connected to that.
ALSO "ROCK-A-DOODLE" AND "SCAMPER THE PENGUIN" HOW COULD I FORGET THOSE THEY WERE ALSO MY FAVORITES.
Man, now that I’m thinking about it I had a lot of weird movies, who even gave them to me? I don’t even remember. I have got to get focused on school, and stop daydreaming about movies and books and other things I'd RATHER be doing.
“The Lion King” was my favorite for ages, and I would roll around on the floor pretending to be a lion, or pose dramatically on the couch. God help my poor cat if he ever ambled by, because he would instantly be snatched up and hoisted into the air, as THE NEW PRINCE OF PRIDE ROCK or whatever. And when Mufasa died it would totally tear me up, I cannot even explain to you.
“Toy Story” was a big deal, too. The computer animation enthralled me, and that part when Woody finds Buzz depressed and dressed as a doll by that evil kid’s sister cracked me up EVERY TIME. “I’M MRS. NESBIT NOW.” It was not a helpful movie for packrats like me, I can tell you that. I even worried about throwing away Happy Meal toys after watching it.
If I was feeling daring, it was “The Great Mouse Detective,” which I loved but also scared the crap out of me, especially that part where they’re creeping around in the toy store (I think it was a toy store?). THAT FREAKING JACK-IN-THE-BOX AND THE PEG-LEGGED BAT, OH MY GOD. Were the toys alive? I vaguely remember that maybe they were alive, oh man. And the end battle, OH GOD DON’T DIEEEEEEEE BASILLLLLLLL WHO WILL SOLVE CRIME IF YOU DO HELP HIM DAWSON YOU FAT INCOMPETENT FOOL. SO STRESSFUL but also SO FIERCE I don’t even know.
I also liked “Fly Away Home,” because I liked to imagine being the leader of geese. We have a lot of Canada geese that live around our pond, so I guess I connected to that.
ALSO "ROCK-A-DOODLE" AND "SCAMPER THE PENGUIN" HOW COULD I FORGET THOSE THEY WERE ALSO MY FAVORITES.
Man, now that I’m thinking about it I had a lot of weird movies, who even gave them to me? I don’t even remember. I have got to get focused on school, and stop daydreaming about movies and books and other things I'd RATHER be doing.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A Book Friend
For most of my life, I've only really had a few really close friends with which I share pretty much everything. That's still the case in college, but I've also become more receptive to having more casual friends, with whom I share a few interests in common. I have a friend who has almost the same taste in music as me (handy for recs), a friend whose library I'm pretty sure is being slowly absorbed into mine, and vice versa, a friend I watch sci-fi things with, and others. These friends are loads of fun, but I tend not to keep up with them very well since they usually don't fit into my daily schedule. (they don't work with me, share classes, that sort of thing).
I was watching the recent movie adaptation of "Sherlock Holmes," when I suddenly remembered a commmon(ish) interest friend I had in sixth grade. He was a book friend.
I read a lot, all of the time, in sixth grade because I was new and didn't know how to act around people I didn't know. The teacher put the desks in little groups of four, and John and I were in a group of three, because there was an odd number, with another boy who mostly just slept. John was a nice guy, and I can't remember a whole lot about him other than the fact that he was in love with the "Sherlock Holmes" series around the time I was in love with those James Herriot "All Creatures Great and Small" series. (I was all about long, involved books when I was a kid, especially series) In break times during class, he would explain why Sherlock Holmes was totally the best ever and I would roll my eyes and tease him about it, and he would shake his head mournfully. Occasionally we would swap books, but he would NOT like the gory details of being a vet, and I would get frustrated by the mysteries and lose interest.
"LOOK. CAITLIN. SHERLOCK HOLMES IS THE BEST EVER AND CAN DO ANYTHING AND IS A LOT BETTER THAN YOUR GUY, WHO SPENDS WAY TOO MUCH TIME AROUND HORSE INNARDS."
I wonder what he thought of the recent movie, if he saw it.
It was good times in an otherwise really awful and awkward stage of my life. And in seventh grade we were put in different teachers' classes, so we didn't really ever talk again.
I was watching the recent movie adaptation of "Sherlock Holmes," when I suddenly remembered a commmon(ish) interest friend I had in sixth grade. He was a book friend.
I read a lot, all of the time, in sixth grade because I was new and didn't know how to act around people I didn't know. The teacher put the desks in little groups of four, and John and I were in a group of three, because there was an odd number, with another boy who mostly just slept. John was a nice guy, and I can't remember a whole lot about him other than the fact that he was in love with the "Sherlock Holmes" series around the time I was in love with those James Herriot "All Creatures Great and Small" series. (I was all about long, involved books when I was a kid, especially series) In break times during class, he would explain why Sherlock Holmes was totally the best ever and I would roll my eyes and tease him about it, and he would shake his head mournfully. Occasionally we would swap books, but he would NOT like the gory details of being a vet, and I would get frustrated by the mysteries and lose interest.
"LOOK. CAITLIN. SHERLOCK HOLMES IS THE BEST EVER AND CAN DO ANYTHING AND IS A LOT BETTER THAN YOUR GUY, WHO SPENDS WAY TOO MUCH TIME AROUND HORSE INNARDS."
I wonder what he thought of the recent movie, if he saw it.
It was good times in an otherwise really awful and awkward stage of my life. And in seventh grade we were put in different teachers' classes, so we didn't really ever talk again.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Projects
I've never really had lots of personal projects in my life. Or, maybe I should explain; I don't really make big projects for myself. I tend to have little goals scattered around that never seem to get quite finished, so they little my brain and worry me at night with their un-finished-ness.
This blog is one such project. I've also got letters to write to people (thank you and how are you doing), a mix CD to finish, and a thorough Spring Cleaning of my room to do. And several books to read. And maybe some form of writing that isn't in a journal. And have some form of a Christian life.
I don't know. I hate having loose ends, but in a way, I feel nervous if I don't have them. I feel like I'm not getting things done.
Basically I am sick of my neuroses.
This blog is one such project. I've also got letters to write to people (thank you and how are you doing), a mix CD to finish, and a thorough Spring Cleaning of my room to do. And several books to read. And maybe some form of writing that isn't in a journal. And have some form of a Christian life.
I don't know. I hate having loose ends, but in a way, I feel nervous if I don't have them. I feel like I'm not getting things done.
Basically I am sick of my neuroses.
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