Waiting...I hate it

I am trying to patiently wait for the books I ordered to arrive.  No, I am to cheap for next day so I have to wait it out.  I hate waiting for stuff like this, especially for books...makes me feel like I ordered it off the Pony Express!

But I guess it will build the anticipation. Besides, I have a butt-load of books to occupy myself with.  I bought them all on hardcover because there is nothing I HATE more than paperback.  Ugh.  The feel of that flimsy cover, and how it bends and breaks by the end of the book.  How the corners get all worn and the cover image fades and cracks.  I HATE THAT.

Gimme a nice hardcover. With its perfect binding and smooth surface.  That cracking sound it makes when you open it just right.  And the smell.  Oh, the wonderful smell of the paper and the glue.  There is nothing I like more than looking at a shelf filled with hardcover books.  All different colors and sizes.  Hmmmm....makes me happy :)

Anyway, I decided to start with the book by H.G. Wells, "The Invisible Man".  I don't know why.  It just sounds interesting.  I told myself that I would not have any rhyme or reason or order when going about reading from my list of 1001 books to read.  I would just pick one and start.  So while I wait...for what seems like eternity....for the book to get here I'll just chill out and blog or read other things.

New Years Eve is tomorrow.  Is it weird that I don't feel like this year is ready to be over?  I've never felt that way before.  And yet I am looking forward to the newness of a new year.  Hmmm...I wonder what 2010 has in store for me?

Lots of books hopefully :)

1001 Books to read....Before I die

Ok so here it is....

The thing that is going to set me apart...

LOL

Ok not really...

How many people have done this very same thing?  Taken a list of books that others have deemed a "classic" or the "best" and read through them with vigor.  How many people have taken this same idea and then written about it?  I believe we call them critics.

Well I am NOT a literary critic.  I am NOT an editor, reporter, or any other "or". I am just someone looking for a project.  A thing to do.  Something to accomplish that over dinner one night I can say, "Hey, you know I've been reading..." and have something interesting to talk about.  So I'm gonna do it.  I just went online and found an amazing list titled "1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die".

Simple.

No time limits, no pressure.  Just a list.  So I'm Going to take this list and pick from it, out of order, in no particular sequence, and read.  Read to my little hearts desire.  I just finished ordering them.  It felt kinda good.

What this project of mine is doing or will do for me, I don't know.  Maybe nothing.  Maybe I'll better my grammar.  Maybe I'll learn a thing or two.  Who knows.  But I like the idea of a project.  Something to do that I can do well.

Then, when I finish reading the book I will give my own personal....what do you call it....review?  Sure I'm a big fat nobody.  Who the hell is gonna care if I think the book is good or not?  It doesn't matter.  I will read it and give my opinion on it and then...well...then...that's that.  I will tuck the book away and add it to my collection.

So there...

That's what I'll do...

Let's see what happens :)

Movie is over...

So I watched the rest of the movie...

Quite inspirational...

And yet...

LOL...

Yep, still ordinary...

Me...that is :)

Ordinarily I am Ordinary

Actually I was forced to stop...

I was watching a movie tonight. It was actually quite pleasant. Sitting here alone in my cozy little place. Its surprisingly cold outside today and I am really getting into this "winter" weather. I bought myself something delicious to eat...though truthfully I should not have spent the money...put on my fluffy pink sweats and sat down to watch this movie and eat.

It was going rather well. Its funny how the silliest of things can warm the heart over. I think I am just beginning to get into the concept of liking the me I meet when I'm alone. She's really not that bad. I have found that now that I have all this extra quiet I can do things like read. I love to read. And really there are books out there that I should be reading and for the first time in my life I actually feel like I may just have the frame of mind to read them...interesting.

Anyways, there I was warm and cozy and watching this movie when POOF! My laptop decides that its going shut down on me....and it was really getting good too! Suddenly I had this realization. It was like this moment that jumped out and landed on my face. In this movie, the main character has a realization that she is hopelessly average and has done nothing with her life that she would deem as merited or note worthy. So she goes on this quest to master a particular field and catalog her experiences. During the course of time she discovers herself and the true meaning of blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada...

So as I sat waiting for this infernal machine to reload I realized that I am having the same crisis! I am that woman at the brink of....NOTHING. My life revolves around so much sameness that if I were to change it in the tiniest measure I may not know who the hell I am! This thought scares me to death. Is this it?

Is this all that there is? Ok, so at the risk of sounding uber philosophical and melodramatic I am realizing that something has to change here. So I decided that I would blog it out and try to figure out what I could possibly do to be less....ordinary.

That's it. I am ordinary. I mean I don't think of myself as less or anything, and yes, I do have some qualities about myself that others may think are above average. I am confident enough to say that without worry of sounding narcissistic. But I am truly average. Just filled with the mundane. When I started this blog I did so because I thought it would be cool just to write all this crap I have in my head down.

But really...I am an audience of one here. No actually according to my little "following" thing, its me and someone else. This person probably read my blog once and has never again. I guess its ok. And yes every now and then someone else...like a family member...reads it and makes a little comment to me. But I realize that this little blog is the only impression I have on the world. If I were to die tomorrow (cue the drama inspired music here lol) the only thing anyone might ever find of me is this blog.

What would it say about me? And is it enough? I don't know. I've never been a dare-devil. I've never challenged myself to anything "exciting" and mastered it. I've always just been ordinary.

So that's it. My mind spilled what it thought. This story....this story about a girl idea...well...there is not much to fill this story.

Who would want to know about someone ordinary when we all feel ordinary...whats so extraordinary about the ordinary?

Movement

In the existence of life there is movement. Movement can be created in moments of pure stillness. The movement of breath in one's body. The movement of the eye as it focuses on the face of the familiar. Blood moving through the veins, willingly, involuntarily.

I am constantly moving. My body is in constant motion. Today, as in the recent present, movement brings on an aching in my body. I crave the pedestrian movements that come from the day to day while I writhe in the agony of it. Nimble fingers gone. Fluidity of walking now replaced by short staccato fragments of movement.

How I took it for granted.

The sheer enjoyment of moving through the day without thought. Now every small detail. Every little lift, turn, gesture and blink comes with a consequence. With a price of pain.

I long for the days when movement was free. Movement was pouring out from within my center that staggered even my mind. I remember the days long gone of creativity. When my body would release from its depths a movement filled with meaning and direction. The turning and the leaping the balancing and the twirling. Those days when my body's simplest of gestures were profound speeches set to music.

Debussy...

The music that tells much of what has happend. Clair de Lune. The slowness and musical water that it starts as. Slowly moving its musical notes through my mind. Moving ever so gently, without a thought. That's how it was...so long ago.

Then climbing...energy...effort....extremities imitating the pulsating sway of the musical change. The effort my body now takes to move. Every moment made thoughtfully and carefully. Gone are the days of springing up, jumping down, and turning over with ease and carelessness. Replaced by willing and purposed movement. "Have too" movements. "Want to" gone for good.

But there is hope again. Hope as the music then slows back to its crawl. To its slow and beautiful change. Weaving in and out, up and down, filling my heart and mind with a memory of what was.

Perhaps my body will never move or dance the way it used to. Perhaps I will never see the lights of the stage in my eyes again and hear the applause or feel the emotion of the movements. I am fully willing to accept this fate.

All I ask for now....is a moment...a movement...

Without pain...without thought.

Blissful, serene, steady, graceful. Oh, the joy of pure movement.

Return to me dear friend.

And dance with me again.

Not much to say, that's all

Its been a few weeks since I sat down to write anything at all. I tend to do that. But there really hasn't been much for me to say. Just another endless tunnel of twists and turns. I'm getting so used to it doesn't really phase me as much anymore.

Someone said to me today, "You haven't written anything lately". I was like, oh yeah. But its not because I haven't wanted to. Maybe its just that so many things have gone good, gone bad, gone up and gone down that I just don't want to rehash it all. Like if putting it down cements that it all happened.

I guess I've been trying to convince myself its all been a dream that I will wake up from and things will be like they are supposed to be. Or at least how I want them to be.

Here is what I am being taught:

Shrinkage...and how to adjust to it.

Shrinkage could be good you know. Like when a person loses weight or their debts shrink. But my life seems to be shrinking. Things I would have never thought I could live without...suddenly...not so important. Shrinkage is a pain. It hurts. Its uncomfortable. Especially when you come from a place where you felt there was room and space and air. Now I just feel...shrunk.

So I am learning to live in the shrink-wrap state of my life. There is not much room in here so that's why there wasn't much to tell.

I'm shrinking.

Or better yet.

Its all shrinking around me.