I figured I would take a few minutes while I’m waiting for a load of laundry to finish drying, and give a quick synopsis of the hectic-ness that has gotten in the way of my lit-bit-ing. I’ve been having a few computer problems lately, and while my computer is still working, it isn’t quite up to par. I’ve tried a few different solutions so far (a couple of them recommended by pros), but they haven’t been fixes. While some of the solutions help, the problem hasn’t been entirely pin-pointed. So my friend Skunkie and I are hopefully going to do more testing this weekend and work out some theories of ours (errr, mostly hers to be honest, cause I don’t know what they hell I’m doing) and see if we can at least find some common ground in the cause of the symptoms my computer is having. As a result of this, I haven’t spent much time on my computer. The frustration levels this causes has pushed me into excessive vegging sessions in front of the television after a long day of work.
I’ve also been preparing to head out of town for the Fourth of July to spend with my parents. As well as doing things like getting my eyes checked (and new glasses ordered), taking my pup to the vet and groomers, and generally spending more time out of doors now that the weather has been so beautiful lately. I haven’t been reading quite as much as I had planned for the summer, but I have read quite a bit (though not everything will be reviewed) and hope to fit more in before classes start back up at the end of August. If I can manage to read a book a week until then, I will have plenty to write about on Lit Bit. As usual I feel like I’m playing catch up when it comes to my literature related posting, but hopefully I will get there soon enough. Well, I’m off to fold and hang up some clothes and then off to bed, I’ve got work early in the morning tomorrow.
I was pleasantly surprised while reading this novel, how smoothly it read. It didn’t seem to have any of the tongue-tying intricacies of language that often accompanies classical literature. I also thought Gaskell did an awesome job of creating Margaret’s character. By turns I was annoyed and taken in by her. Just like her character is in the book, as a reader I got to see both sides of her personality. There were moments when I questioned how the other characters could possibly find her stuck-up and then I would get the same vibe of her character at a moment when I least expected it. So it was nice to be convinced of the character’s foibles even though they weren’t necessarily who she was entirely. Does that make any sense? I guess what I am trying to say is that, despite having the novel primarily from Margaret’s perspective (which often lends the reader an inside view to that character’s feelings and motives, often dispelling the strength of a negative impression the character makes on other characters), I was still able, not only to understand the other characters’ impressions of Margaret, but experience their feelings toward her as well.
I found the end disappointing though. After nearly everyone dear to Margaret dying in an extremely short period of time, that moment of happiness was extremely short-lived. I finally got to smile and even laugh at the humor displayed in the last lines and then when I realized that there wasn’t anymore to read, my jaw dropped. Since I read this book in a pdf file, I was terrified that maybe somehow I lost some of it. But everything that I found seemed to confirm that was all there was. Well, call me a sap, but I do like the happy endings. I suppose it is better that they are short and sweet as opposed to long, drawn out, and disgustingly sentimental. I walk a fine line, I know.
I suppose one of the best ways for me to move on with my life and be more productive is to step up and face those abstract fears I have. You know, the kind that are all in your head. Like my fear of being abducted if I go for a walk too late in the evening by myself. My parents seriously drove it into my head, that being a girl, I can’t safely go anywhere or doing anything on my own. As a kid I was given very limited roaming access while my brother (three years older than me) essentially had free range of the neighbor, the city, however far he could get off to. For me though, they claimed the fear that someone would try and kidnap me. An understandable fear considering how close we lived to the freeway, but unfair to chain one kid down and let the other be a wild child. And nothing in my society has helped to dispell this gargantuan fear. I’m mean a little fear is fine, but so much fear that every muscle clenches to near immobilization every time I hear someone walking behind me in a fairly quiet parking lot at night, or even in the day? I think that’s ridiculous. I get so angry with myself sometimes for the exaggerated reaction I have during such circumstances. Is it better to have too much fear, paranoia, rather than not enough? I can’t tell. Fear can be such an inhibitor.
Another circumstance where fear is holding me down is in regards to preparing my applications for grad schools. I was having fun dreaming big, but now that I’m on the other side of the up and coming deadlines, you know, that point where it’s more than just planning and is at the stage of doing, I have become lazy and apparently dispassionate about my previous plans. I still want to go to grad school in the UK, really really really bad in fact. But now I have to admit that I’m scared shitless that they will say no, that I won’t be good enough, interesting enough, unique enough, agressive enough for them. Who likes rejection, right? Although I know it’s rather pathetic to give up before they even have a chance to say yes or no. I mean, the worst is they say no…then I go somewhere else or wait until the next application period and try again. But when it became real that in a matter of months I would be sending out applications to decide my fate, I was scared catatonic.
I am now trying to work myself back into a state of action. Accordingly though, my brain seems to have turned itself off. I haven’t had a writing brain-wave in ages it seems and I don’t like anything that I’ve done in the last semester or two in class (as far as poetry goes) and I have to have a 25 page sample of my writing. This sets my heart to panic rate, it’s fluttering even as I think about it. I also need to write my statement of intent and somehow express a degree of confidence in my plans. Well I have plenty of hopes and dreams and such, but perhaps not nearly enough confidence in my skill to make them happen. Will they read between the lines and scent my weakness? I’m afraid that I will somehow, unconsciously, shoot myself in the foot so to speak. I know that I should just be me and do my best to express myself in an honest manner. I’m just so afraid that it isn’t enough. But I refuse to let fear, the great tyrant of my life so far, take over this opportunity for me. I want this dammit! So this is my self-relieving confession and motivational speech. I’m gonna shake off this clenching and squirming of my stomach and set out into my uncharted waters.
So I failed to get May Screenshots up. What can I say… I just couldn’t find a wallpaper that suited my mood. But after much searching (soul and otherwise), I finally settled on a new wallpaper. Of course this revelation didn’t happen until this month had started. My latest find for wallpaper bliss resulted from what other place than MacThemes. This paper is called Hardwood Night by alxz310. I must admit when I first saw the post for this wall, I was uncertain as to whether or not I would like it, but once I got it up, I loved the color. It’s a nice and calming wall. Another minor change is my mail icon. I switched it to Going Postal by loaf ninja. Other than that not much else has changed. So here are the screenshots:
While I lazily passed along the morning/early afternoon, I didn’t make many attempts to be productive. Eventually I was seized with the absolute necessity of doing the dishes soaking in the sink. So, in order to pacify my guilty conscious after a weekend of lethargy, I got dressed, brushed my hair and teeth, deodorized accordingly and began the arduous task of dish doing. Once that was done, I headed back into my computer room to check feeds and what not. As I passed my bathroom door I noticed an unpleasant sight. A black juicy beetle-ish sort of bug. I continued walking as though I hadn’t seen it. It’s the feel of squishing a bug that sends shivers down my spine; as well as their unpredictability when it comes to flying and landing in unknown places.
So I willingly forgot that I had ever seen such a bug. I went on with my day, eating lunch, go grocery shopping. Once I got home from the grocery store I unloaded my car and loaded up the fridge with fresh-bought goodies. I was planning out my dinner, but decided I needed to take a pee before beginning any cooking adventures. So I stride with confidence into the bathroom, flip the light switch, and out of habit, looked into the toilet bowl (I have this habit thanks to catching a spider setting up a web across the toilet once…I am forever paranoid now. I don’t like bugs.). There, floating in the clear water, was a sad little black bug. I wonder what suicidal thoughts drove the poor thing to drown itself in toilet water. I can’t imagine. I quickly flushed away the bug (because you never know if it will come back to life) and promptly came to my computer (skipping over my own need for the toilet at the moment), to let you all know of a lonely life lost in my apartment today. I would’ve let the little guy live, as long as he didn’t invade my personal space. He could’ve made his way back out to the great outdoors, my back door was wide open most of the day. But sadly no. He found the only room in the apartment without a window. A moment of silence please………
This entire episode struck me as odd for some reason. I’m by no means a fan of bugs. But I dunno, it was an odd mixture of hilarity, pity, and tragedy.
