(LOST is back. :))
Unlike many my age (29), I wasn’t for Obama from the start– I voted for Hillary in the primary. But I unhesitatingly voted for him in November, and when he won, I felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, one I hadn’t even known was there.
As for my newly acquired weight (see my last post), I’m still filled with unease when I think about it. But whereas Monday and into yesterday it was the whole book, now it’s been reduced to a subplot.
I got some bad news yesterday. News that could impact my future, though that possibility has barely dented my consciousness. I can’t reconcile my new reality with the way I’ve always viewed myself, and attempting to is consuming my thoughts.
The book: Diane Setterfield’s “The Thirteenth Tale,” a story of mysteries and secrets (two of my favorite things to read about), and filled with engaging characters (including a narrator I identified with more than a little). But what I think will stick with me most was how atmospheric it was. Just thinking about it now, two days after I finished it, I feel as if I am on the moors, shrouded in darkness.
To be started later, on my way to work: Kate Atkinson’s “When Will There Be Good News?” When indeed, Kate.
I’ve thought for a while now about getting into photography. I have an artistic streak that I rarely indulge, but whenever I do, I’m reminded of how much I enjoy creating something.
Now I just have to get a camera– you know, a non-high-tech one. ;)
The fact that these words are coming out of my fingers (well, not literally, though that would be kind of cool) and appearing before your eyes officially makes me not the least likely person to blog. Truth be told, this isn’t even my first attempt at blogging. (Gasp!) But I am a rather unlikely candidate for bloghood:
1) I am a very private person. (Sorry, no salacious revelations here. I am not a salacious kind of girl. :))
2) I kind of hate the word blog. (Don’t even get me started on ‘vlog.’ Shudder.)
3) I really question if anyone particularly cares that I love toast or that it smelled like Flintstones vitamins in the first floor hallway of my building last week. (Though I do, and it did.)
4) I got my first– and only– cell phone three years ago. I don’t I.M. You won’t find me on Facebook or MySpace, and I just don’t get Twitter. What I’m saying is, I’m not going to win the Miss High Tech pageant any time soon.
So why am I doing this? I guess the main reason is that, at heart, I’m a writer.