Thursday, November 13, 2003
I think I'll start from Sunday. Yes. It feels like a whole month or couple of months has been stuffed into this one week.
Two of the books I bought from the second hand book store were First Man in Rome and Cold Mountain. I sat down to read the first one and found I liked it...until I got to the part about Julilla. I felt her pain of unrequited love and ostracizement so strongly I shed a tear and couldn't stop shaking for a long, long time. The worst though were the sounds and images - I could see her clawing the furniture and bawling while screaming her lungs out for her husband to love her. That was what drove me nuts the most. If it weren't for Porcia I think I would have gone nuts. I tried everything to tame the screams in my head - and some of them worked a little - but it wasn't until Porcia came and comforted Julilla, singing lullabies and such, that it stopped. Now I try not to think about Julilla much for fear of the pain coming back along with all the overwhelming sensual imagery.
Then I started on Cold Mountain. I was so riveted I finished it the next day and have been recommending it to anyone who'll listen. This is my new favorite book. Coincidentally, they're making a movie about it that's coming out soon (which is what finally motivated me into buying the book). I've heard nothing but rave reviews about it and I'm really pumped about seeing it. I joined an online club for the movie and from the pictures I have totally fallen in love with Jude Law. He has everything - total hotness, deep side that doesn't try to impress anyone, and intense love for his family. I know I have no chance of marrying him so I hope I'll find someone like him someday.
Anyways, this book has also brought me a dilemma. It has made me yearn for the forest like the one I grew up in. I used to want to become Amish, and for awhile there that dream sort of replayed itself in my mind. But would I be willing to leave everything the city has to offer? That is the paradox I have been turmoiling over: going back to my "roots" and living in the foothills of nowhere or stay in the city. The main reason I wanted to go live on a farm was because a) I miss the wilderness and b) alot of times the modern world gives me a headache with wars and politics and such. I feel like Janus the two faced god from ancient greece in that I cannot make up my mind decisively on either choice. It reminds me of a conversation I once had with Mr. Mansfield. We had gotten on the topic of the country and he said he and his wife were wanting to live out on a farm. I looked at him strangely and told him I would too except I would need that social contact. Back then I couldn't think beyond living by myself. But if I had a good husband (someone like Jude...) then I'd seriously consider it. Some people dream of being a big star or being a millionaire; I think I shall make small town living with a good husband my inner dream.
Enough of that. Freddie died. I have to stop calling him Puck, his old screenname. His name is Freddie. He died in his sleep. I feel really guilty now for not making an effort to talk to him over the summer. In fact I wanted to get over him because he was too clingy. But now I feel shame. He had one of the biggest impacts on my life the whole time I knew him. He liked me for my innocence, so to speak, yet he opened my eyes up to a whole new world. I will grieve for him someday, but for now I just want to say thank you and God bless you Puck.
Two of the books I bought from the second hand book store were First Man in Rome and Cold Mountain. I sat down to read the first one and found I liked it...until I got to the part about Julilla. I felt her pain of unrequited love and ostracizement so strongly I shed a tear and couldn't stop shaking for a long, long time. The worst though were the sounds and images - I could see her clawing the furniture and bawling while screaming her lungs out for her husband to love her. That was what drove me nuts the most. If it weren't for Porcia I think I would have gone nuts. I tried everything to tame the screams in my head - and some of them worked a little - but it wasn't until Porcia came and comforted Julilla, singing lullabies and such, that it stopped. Now I try not to think about Julilla much for fear of the pain coming back along with all the overwhelming sensual imagery.
Then I started on Cold Mountain. I was so riveted I finished it the next day and have been recommending it to anyone who'll listen. This is my new favorite book. Coincidentally, they're making a movie about it that's coming out soon (which is what finally motivated me into buying the book). I've heard nothing but rave reviews about it and I'm really pumped about seeing it. I joined an online club for the movie and from the pictures I have totally fallen in love with Jude Law. He has everything - total hotness, deep side that doesn't try to impress anyone, and intense love for his family. I know I have no chance of marrying him so I hope I'll find someone like him someday.
Anyways, this book has also brought me a dilemma. It has made me yearn for the forest like the one I grew up in. I used to want to become Amish, and for awhile there that dream sort of replayed itself in my mind. But would I be willing to leave everything the city has to offer? That is the paradox I have been turmoiling over: going back to my "roots" and living in the foothills of nowhere or stay in the city. The main reason I wanted to go live on a farm was because a) I miss the wilderness and b) alot of times the modern world gives me a headache with wars and politics and such. I feel like Janus the two faced god from ancient greece in that I cannot make up my mind decisively on either choice. It reminds me of a conversation I once had with Mr. Mansfield. We had gotten on the topic of the country and he said he and his wife were wanting to live out on a farm. I looked at him strangely and told him I would too except I would need that social contact. Back then I couldn't think beyond living by myself. But if I had a good husband (someone like Jude...) then I'd seriously consider it. Some people dream of being a big star or being a millionaire; I think I shall make small town living with a good husband my inner dream.
Enough of that. Freddie died. I have to stop calling him Puck, his old screenname. His name is Freddie. He died in his sleep. I feel really guilty now for not making an effort to talk to him over the summer. In fact I wanted to get over him because he was too clingy. But now I feel shame. He had one of the biggest impacts on my life the whole time I knew him. He liked me for my innocence, so to speak, yet he opened my eyes up to a whole new world. I will grieve for him someday, but for now I just want to say thank you and God bless you Puck.