Freaky Friday

Dear Whoever You Might Be,

      Quite recently my Grandmother sent me an email with this article attached. She said she read it and thought of me, and when I read it, I thought of me too. I propose that you actually read the article to understand the rest of this blog. Plus, it's not that long and what's another few words to read? But, in case you are lazy, here is a quick synopsis:

      There are people in  the world who have fake bookshelves. Gasp. Blasphemy. The premise is that you can tell a lot about people by the books on their shelves; not the books they have laying around, but the ones hidden in the dusty corner and turned inside out and backwards on the shelf. So what does it say about people who have fake books or fake shelves? Basically it says they don't have the time, mental capacity or want to read the books they feel are a must. So they hire and buy spines of books to place in offices to give the illusion of being well-read because obviously, that's why books are important. Not. Even if they're not fake books, the article says that many people buy books with the sheer intention to display them, not read them.

      My initial reaction was horror. Horror! How can people buy fake books? Or even buy books that they don't even crack open, but just leave out on the front table for people to see and comment on. But then I got to thinking more on the article.  Low and behold, I came to the harsh realization that we all buy fake books, in some form or another.

      I am the first to admit that I am a memeber of the "books for show" club. Let me first clarify. I DO eventually READ the books that I buy. But, I organize my books according to which ones will be seen first when someone walks in my room. Some of my "sillier" books I even hide in my mom's room. I do the same in my dorm here at school. If I know there will be an unusual visitor, I may leave Dostoevsky out so the stranger can see it. If they ask about him, I can just nonchalantly answer that I just happen to be casually skimming through Dostoevsky in my spare time. Yes, I want that person to think I am just so subtly brilliant while simultaneously the coolest person ever. If I know someone "holy" is coming over, I may leave my Bible open to give the appearance that I was just flipping through the Pentateuch when they stopped by. One time my mom mailed me Anne of Green Gables and a few Roald Dahl books for my Children's Lit class and I purposefully left the books on my bed in an "aimless" fashion so that anyone who poked their head in would see and inquire.

      Does this make me a freak like the people that buy books for show? Probably. But people do it all the time with things other than books. Just think about it. Remember in Pride and Prejudice when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy surprise the Bennet's on a random afternoon? The girls scramble to hide the ribbons, fluff the cushions, and rearrange the furniture. Who doesn't do that? The in-laws come over and you flip the cushions to hide the coffee stains and dog hair. The neighbor is dropping by for a visit and you throw on some mascara. You've got an important interview and you whip out the "good" suit. The ex-boyfriend might be spotted, so you just happen to put on something saucy with an air of  "Psh. I look this good everyday."

      We all like people to see us in a certain light. Every single person does. If you are denying it right now, then you are just like all the other people denying it.  Sure, this topic has been overdone and hung out to try.  Think High School Musical: You know the world can see us in a way that's different from who we are. But 90% of the time, we do it to ourselves. Heck, if I didn't dress in Anthropologie and use phrases like "Totes Adorbs," the world might catch wind of my obsession with Star Wars. Oops... I guess the world does know now. Too bad.

      Moral of the story? Don't judge a book by its over. Why? Because it may just be a showy, hollow shell. Or, it may be an unconventional cover to a pure gem. Or, it may be exactly what it appears to be. But who are you to decide?

                                                                    Sincerely,
                                                                              Me

Once Every Moon

Dear Whoever You Might Be,

      Lately I've been reading and exploring a lot of different "professional" blogs. There seems to be an overall element and consistency I have noticed on these blogs that is lacking on mine. On most of them, there is a once of week or once a month STAPLE post. I think I might try that for myself. I'm thinking that once a month I will write a "Stuff of the Month" post. Maybe it will be at the beginning of the month. Maybe in the middle. Maybe just on a random rainy day like today. But I'm goint to try it out and see what happens. I know the things that interest me might not interest my readers but these are hard times for writers, internet or not, and a test run can't hurt, right?

February

• Color. It would be typical and even plain normal for me to pick red/pink/purple for this month. I mean, it is the month of being single in love and those colors are the aura of the emotion. And I guess I sort of am choosing those colors, but in a more chic palette. The last few weeks I've been drooling over the color maroon/burgundy/wine. Shirts, purses, scarfs, jewelry, you name it and if its in those shades, I'll wear it. Sounds shallow, but wearing or even looking at a color that is pleasing to your visual senses can make a huge difference in attitude. If your having a hard time visualizing, here's a sample for ya. Aren't my choices just so much richer than the classic red or pink?

• Book. I hope my book of the month isn't embarrassing. I wish it was something more suited towards the holiday, the gloomy weather, something. But the book I'm currently reading is Swamplania! Yes, the exclamation mark is included in the title...and no, it is not a children's picture book. In fact, it was one of the three finalist books for the 2012 Pulitzer Prize (which in case you didn't hear, was never awarded because none of the three finalists were "exceptional" enough). I wish I could say my February book was something more along the lines of Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights. Instead, I've got alligators and Florida swamps and a motherless/struggling family and a young girl who's last name is Bigtree and works to save them all. It's pretty interesting, I must admit.

• Song. The musical obsession is not a hard one to choose-"Daylight" by Maroon 5 is my prime song of the day and last few weeks. And basically every time I hear it on the radio I scream get really excited, turn the volume to a deafening level and dance.  Yup.  If you see someone looking like an idiot in the car next to you, it is most likely me. It is similar to their old stuff and it's super catchy. 

I'm trying to think of another category....Quote of the month? Movie? Food? I feel that all of that sounds stupid. Really extraordinarily stupid... maybe I'll switch it up each month. Like a surprise present, because we all know that reading my blog is equivalent to openning up a surprise gift...

• Quote. "Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes, courage is the quiet voice at the end of the say saying 'I will try again tomorrow'"- Mary Anne Radmacher.

Well, I guess that's it for the time being. That's the stuff of the month in my small life. But sometimes it is the random stuff that matters, at least it matters to me.

                                                                           Sincerely,
                                                                                   Me

One Poor Sonnet

Dear Whoever You Might Be,

      I think Elizabeth Bennet was right on par in regards to the art of poetry. Mr. Darcy, who thought poetry "was the food of love," had it all wrong. Maybe I think that because I am not a poet. Maybe because I don't understand a lot of poetry on my own and have to rely on google for deeper meaning. Regardless, I have never been a "poetry" girl.

      When I was in middle school though, I thought differently. For a few weeks in my english class, we spent time writing different types of poems and compiling them into our own poetry "collections." I saved some of mine because I thought I could put them to good use one day when I was a famous writer. People would read my poems and be inspired to write one of their own. Teachers would use them in class to teach eager poetry-loving students what "real poetry" looks like.

      And here, for your reading pleasure, I am giving you a chance to read one of my poems before I am famous...that's a joke because I know it will never be famous or given any sort of credibility or anything at all for that matter.  It is not great, it is not even good. But it is a testament to my past and the way that I viewed the world when I was a mere thirteen years old.  Please, enjoy.

 

My Place

 

My childhood place.

It shared the hush of town.

 

Girls moved through slowly with concentration,

Trying to understand.

But they couldn't.

 

Here, the world brimmed with possibility.

Here, a girl could dare.

Here, time stopped.

 

It was just right.

It was perfect.

 

But only I knew it.

Only I could feel it.

 

It was empty,

And yet full of life.

It was quiet,

And yet filled with the sound of the birds.

It was still,

And yet the wind moved through like a race.

 

It was my place.

And only I understood it. 

      There it is. One of my very few poems. I think I like the idea of poetry more than the thing itself. I find poems about love to be too stereotyped and melodramatic. Poems about loss too far from the reality of despair. Poems about epic battles too laced with the bias of the writer. Sure, I use fancy words sometimes to describe things, but I don't think a poem can truly provide the inner truth of who I am. I much prefer "real talk" to the highfalutin mumbo jumbo that Gilbert accuses Anne of in the second Green Gables movie. I love in A Knight's Tale when William tries to make up poetry on the spot for Jocelyn and ends up making a fool of himself by saying "Your breasts...they're beneath your throat..." Real eloquent there, bud. Just tell her she's beautiful and that you are completely captivated by her in your own words.

      I am not trying to belittle the art of poetry by any means. Without poetry there would be no literature. Without poetry there would be no Homer, no Dante. I can appreciate poetry for what it is, but I guess since I'm not a poet, I can hardly claim to know it.

                                                                        Sincerely,
                                                                                 Me