Basically a failure, I am. I have not blogged in so unbelievably long and I give my sincerest apologies. Mostly I apologize to myself because I have just been a lazy little child who cannot take five seconds out of her day to write a few words here and there. I know it is my own blog so it is my prerogative to write what I want, when I want. But I feel as if I have abandoned my blog lately to the side of a dusty dirt road to be eaten by rabid hyenas.
Granted, I have been pretty busy lately. There are only two, TWO weeks of school left. Insanity has officially ensued. My reading list has reached astronomical numbers because it appears that I own all the stock in procrastination. Naturally that means I have not had any time for pleasure reading over the past few weeks...sad face. And to top it all off, the foliage on campus has exploded into a beautiful wonderland of white and pink and green and fragrance that tingles the inside of your nose and causes euphoria to spread down to your toes.
For some reason this time of year always reminds me of springtime from high school. Not last year, not my freshman year of college, but high school. Sounds a bit odd, but if you don't think I am odd at this point than you really must not get me at all.
In my first year of high school, we read Jane Eyre in the spring. It was the first time I read it and I distinctly remember one class period where we sat outside in the gardens and had a tea party and discussed the novel...(I went to an all-girls high school so doing something so feminine was encouraged). My sophomore year we read A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain. Most of my peers hated it but I thought it was hysterical. I really wore down my paperback copy and devoured it and became THAT kid in the classroom that asks and answers all the questions. Slightly embarrassing at the time but I was just starting to begin the process of embracing my nerdiness. To be frank, I can't quite remember anything significant from junior year. We read a lot of American lit and we all know how I feel about that...I know we definitely read Billy Budd by Melville and I definitely remember hating it....but the rest is a blur of indifference. Senior year was the best though. That was the year where we really embarked on the ship of high literature. That was the year of Anna Karenina (Tolstoy), Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Thomas Hardy), Doll House (Ibsen), The Stranger (Albert Camus), and The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini) among a few others. We spent most of the spring on The Kite Runner and it was a very powerful experience.
For those who have not read this book, I HIGHLY recommend it. It thoroughly changed the way I viewed the Middle East. I don't know if this is a good thing, but it awoke my inner adventurer and ignited a desire to go and visit. Admittedly though, I think I enjoyed Hesseini's second novel A Thousand Splendid Suns better. The former's main character is male and the latter's female, making it more relatable (although relatable is a relative term when it comes to these books).
That's really all I have to say for now. I will try to be more determined when it comes to keeping up with the
Sincerely,
Me
