Spinning my Wheels

Three weeks of holiday goodness means (for me) not only catching up with family and people I haven't seen in a great while, but also glutting myself with as much media as possible. Where I feel I have been falling down in the area of visiting people (note lack of car and irrational anxiety when it comes to phone conversations) whom I love deeply, I am confident that I am getting my fair share of media. Surprisingly, all forms.

Initially when I packed my back to head to the (not so) sunny south I convinced myself the following would be utterly vital:

• 2 cookbooks
• 1 book on the Okefenokee to return to my grandmother
• 5 fictional novels I've been meaning to read for ages
• 1 Nintendo DS, charger & a Final Fantasy game
• 2 sets of knitting needles
• 3 skeins of yarn
• 1 laptop & charger
• 1 sketchbook & bag of drawing pencils
  

Dave managed to convince me that, no, I do not need five books to read. So, I only brought three. To be fair, I have read two of those in addition to going through one skein of yarn... even if the second skein I started was not one I brought with, but one my mother purchased for me today. But, hey! I need something to do while I watch Dexter with my brother.

It's strange catching up with the things that I've been neglecting. With reading, for instance, it's like gluping down ice cold water from the hose after spending a long day out playing. Nothing else can taste so good. I race through the words, tumbling forward recklessly not caring about meaning. It was probably a good thing that I read Real Murders by Charlaine Harris first. One of her first books, I gather, and her early writing style leaves something to be desired. I probably would have liked it more if it weren't set in a fictional Georgia town that is almost (but not quite) a lot of cities I know. I felt like not only did she not do her research on more than several occasions, but she just didn't go far enough. She was skirting the edge of the pool and occasionally dipping her toes instead of just doing it and leaping in like we wanted. That said, it was a light and fluffy read. Interesting to see where she has come from, but I'm glad that her writing has improved a great deal in the nineteen years it's been since that novel was initially published. I finished the whole read in about a day and was left wanting more. Not of that, per se, but of words in general. As it would turn out, I was in luck. Soulless by Gail Carriger is positively amazing. I mean, the cover boasts that it's about vampires, werewolves and parasols. What is not to like?

Soulless is one of those books that found me rather than the other way around. During one of my random jaunts in a bookstore during my lunch hour (a time frequently spent sneaking away to peek at books I know I won't have time to read during the school year) I was drawn towards the bright pink around the bold font. While the description on the back was intriguing, I must say that it was the author's bio that made me purchase the book more than anything else. It reminded me of Orli, and goodness know how I love that woman as well as her writing. I must say that Soulless was far from disappointing. It was clever from the top down. The characters were engaging and I found myself drawn into this Victorian world that had hints of steam punk without making me want to cringe at the 'hipness' of it all. No, there is a definite reason this story is being told. The heroine within this book is full of agency. She's someone I would like to be. Roman nose and all. I urge you all to pick it up and give the pages a turn. The words are a bit dense, but it's rewarding. Like bunt cake. So delicious!

When I not reading I, surprisingly, have been indulging in a great deal of video games. The new Mario for the wii. It is both fun and frustrating. And multi-player divorce mode is next to impossible for me. I find that my teammates are always jumping on my head or I forget who I am and end up bubbled. But I like it even if my timing skills leave a lot to be desired. It's fun to remember the original game as I stumble through the levels of this new one.

My netflix account, too, has been getting a fair share of use. But I think I will save my review of Lost in Austen for when I have decided exactly how I feel about it. I keep waffling back in forth on that one. Cleverly done but... hm. Better not to launch into it.

So, all in all the holidays are going well in my little corner of the globe. I hope that you and yours can say the same. And for goodness sake, do stay safe! We only have a little left of 2009 to get through and I want to see that everyone makes it! I'm tired of people skipping out on us.

In-Between Days

The relative life of leisure which I currently have been fortunate enough to enjoy has left me a lot of time for filler. Okay, so maybe that isn't the best turn of a phrase. But how else to describe all the tiny things that you normally might really love doing but get shelved for the 'shoulds' and 'musts' that build up during the coarse of a day/week/month that is otherwise loaded down with work, class, or any other number of things that comprise life as we know it.

There's my bright spot. One of them, at least.

Lacking work in the traditional sense to fill up my day I am able to pick and choose what I'd like to focus on so long as it meets the following criteria: 1. cheap, and 2. entertaining. I've found a good deal of solace in cleaning and reclaiming little areas of space which might otherwise have been left forgotten the way that old houses are when kudzu slowly devours them whole. Baking, too, has been cathartic in a similar sense. Changing something from one form to another. It's rather like alchemy. At least, I like to think so. Lately I have also found that I've been getting back in touch with my crafty side as well. Where this might have formerly meant painting or decoupage art projects worthy of any five year old, I now am turning to fiber arts. Specifically, knitting. Not that I am any good. And not that I have turned out anything more exciting than several Fish Hats. But it just makes me feel productive in a way that doing the dishes or playing the Sims just isn't able to compete with. There's something lasting about the products (barring mishaps with moths or horrifying laundry incidents).

This summer has also been one of books. Lazy day reading when I am left to my own devices is a guilty pleasure of mine. I love devouring books. Quickly pushing through the words so that I can reach the author's meaning...rereading passages in a futile attempt to commit them to memory or else simply savor the flavor that a particular turn of phrase might have. It feels terribly decadent to be able to sit down with a novel and be able to devote my full attention to it without having to think about anything else more pressing. The most recent of these indulgences is The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner. While a fairly quick read, it felt dense. Heavy with thoughts and words. Not surprising, perhaps, considering it was written by a life-long Journalist and NPR Correspondent. He was funny and thoughtful. In the end the book made me want to travel more and gave me a little more insight to things that I already knew. Or thought I knew. Things like 'What does happiness mean to me?' and 'How do I get there?' Are the answers to those questions so different when you consider them in the individual sense versus giving them a hint of your nationality? Or is it possible to consider them at all without lending your cultural perspective to it? Maybe not. But it's interesting to try.