They Effing Forgot My Birthday!

I was sitting on the couch last night flipping channels.  

Nothing was on.

I was about to shut it down and go read or write or do something..productive…

but then I saw Sixteen Candles...

I love this movie!

And, although I've seen it a few hundred times, I stopped...

and decided to watch it again.

You remember what it's about, right?

Sam is turning 16…no one remembers…the geek loves her…she loves the stud muffin…

lots of funny lines…a character named Long Duk Dong and a happy ending.

  

What I may have to remind you of is that it was made in 1984…

let's see…I was about to be a freshman in High School.  

My gawd…that was 30 years ago.

And, just like the movie…that is silly and funny.

A simple-minded story of a girl turning 16…

her sweet-sixteen…which is anything but.

We can all relate to her, right?  

Use her as a springboard for our own remembrances...

I think the best part of re-watching it was seeing 

things of the not so distant past on display…

the headgear, leotards, bad hair, bad clothes, floppy disks.

They did have an epic party…pizza spinning on the record-player…

the place is a complete disaster..

a parent's worst nightmare.  

I forgot how much I hated the part where Jake finds Anthony Michael Hall underneath the small glass coffee table.

Do you remember?  

Ugh.

Thinking about it is making it hard to breathe.  

High School…thankfully, just a phase…

and it's all easily forgotten as time marches on.

Let's also be thankful for the simple truth Facebook wasn't developed back then.

I don't need to remember what I looked like in braces, bad hair and weird clothes.

I will say while I was watching it…

I was thinking that things do matter more when you're a teenager,

because you're experiencing it all for the first time.

Shit becomes a big deal.

The entire movie she is pining away for the Senior jock.

Jake Ryan.

What girl among us has never been in love with 'that guy'…that man…

you know the one…

the one who didn't even know we existed.

A crush.

Everyone's had one.  

It didn't even have to be the hottest guy in school.

I like this line Sam's dad says,

"That's why they call them crushes.  If they were easy, they'd call them something else."

Crushes.  

But, maybe why I love this movie so much…is because her crush comes through.

I mean…she got Jake Ryan! 

I can't even list all the other reasons I like it…

except AMH is the best played geek --

maybe EVER.

His voice even cracks at all the right places.

He is really quite adorable.

No wonder he gets his happy ending too.

I would have nominated him for an Oscar…I would have. He is that good.

Seriously, if my boyfriend is reading this…

On my next birthday, I want a cake with candles…

sadly, there will be more than 16…

but, I want us to sit indian-style 

on a big table with the lights down low…

just the blaze from the 44 candles burning…

then…quietly…whisper to me…

make a wish…

and, I'll get to say…

it already came true…

*sigh*

Perfect ending to a perfect movie.

In my humble opinion.

The Goldfinch…read and reviewed.

I finished it!!  

I may have high-fived myself for simply completing every line of this 800-page novel.  

Well, 771 pages, to be exact.

Donna Tartt's latest…The Goldfinch.  

I mentioned a month or so back I was reading it…literally, engrossed.

I think I said that I basically, couldn't put the book down.  

But I did.  

I found that I prematurely raved about it.  

I don't mean to sound that all was lost.  

It's good.  

Is it THE BEST book I have ever read?  

No.

It is worthy of most of the praise it has received.

After all, it is a Pulitzer-prize winning novel.

However, it stalled on me. 

 I found myself skipping…skimming sections...then feeling guilty and going back to read it. 

Several times I wanted to abandon it all together.

At one point, I even considered using it as a doorstop.

It was filled with so much unnecessary detail…which dragged on and bored me.  

At times it made me feel anxious. 

But…like the poor finch chained…so was I to finishing it.  

The jist is...a young boy named, Theo, loses his mother in an explosion at the NY Metropolitan Museum of Art.  

She dies.  

Amid the explosion, aftermath, confusion, etc.  

He steals her favorite painting.  

It's his journey of loss, life, guilt, burden, deceit and why most of us survive…love.  

Fabritius's famous painting, Goldfinch -- you know the one?

A golden-colored finch…chained to its post.  

Reminding me of Theo…chained himself to this piece of art.  

Basically, built his life around it. 

I liked this line…

"The Painting," he observes, "was the still point where it all hinged: dreams and signs, past and future, luck and fate."

I sound unimpressed.  

I guess it's just where I was when I finished the book.

I will tell you that there is a moment that my mouth dropped open.  

**spoiler alert**

It NEVER occurred to me that Boris, his friend (some friend), 

stole the painting.  

Theo never even considered (nor did I) that his friend took it.

That after all these years, it was just cardboard wrapped so carefully and stored in a temperature-controlled storage unit.

Donna, you got me.

  

All of his fear…the hiding…the guilt…

the what ifs…

and he didn't even have it.

I mean…his journey with the painting is the entire book…

and he didn't even end up having it.

Isn't it true that we mostly worry about things that don't even exist?

I sat there thinking…

OMG are you kidding me? 

I couldn't decide if I was like, duh…of course he stole the painting from him.

Or, berate myself in that I am also too trusting in life and to heed the lesson.

Oh, Theo.  

Damnit, Theo.

Overall, I wasn't expecting the twist.  

It brought me back around.

I did find myself angry in Theo for befriending Boris again…

WHY?

But…I knew why.  

To me, in the end, it came down to Pippa.  

The girl.

He lived for Pippa…

 The painting represented how he found her…

how he devoted his life to having her one day…

remembering her every move, scent, hung on her every word…

like he did mourning his mother.

The painting he observed…was where it all hinged.  

Dreams

Signs

The past

The future

Luck

FATE.

In conclusion…

I found that the power of art can change a life.

That I am not the only one who seems to always be in love with the wrong person…

 and yet find, in the end, we are all flawed.

And to recognize the reoccurring themes in life…and still ignore them.

Break the chain.

A page turner…finally

THE GOLDFINCH

Is a damn good book.  

I was visiting my friend in Detroit and I knew he had some work to do.

While we were running errands I asked if we could pop by Barnes and Noble.
I wanted to grab a book.  

I had recently heard about this one…
so, I thought I'd run in and get it.

I got a coffee…
perused the mags…
found the book and 

once we got in the car...
I opened the book jacket and started to read it. 

I wasn't even sure what the book was about.
Only that I had heard it was worth the read.

Honestly, I haven't been reading much…which isn't like me.  

I'd pick something up and nothing had been grabbing me.  

He asked me what it was about…

I was skimming and trying to summarize out loud…
 when I stumbled over a word I didn't recognize.

Machinations

I Googled it.

It was used in this sentence…

…and the ruthless machinations of fate.

It means…in case you are wondering…

the act of plotting…

a crafty scheme or cunning design for the accomplishment of a sinister end.

And then, he says, we have to use it in a sentence of our own...

I totally like this guy...cause how cute is that?
Except that I was like…uh…you go first...

Anyway, once we got back, I dove into the book…
 and three hours later he is like…uh…wanna do something with me? 

Or should I turn on the light so you can see better?

I think I'll leave it at that.  

I promised Vee I'd send it to her when I finish it.

Then, I think I'll break it down later for you guys.

What I liked, why I liked it…etc.

Promise me though…

put it on your book list…

I'm reading…I'm blogging and this weekend I'm doing some photography for FATE.  

Look at me…

Over here liven'

…and the ruthless machinations of fate are after me…thankfully…plotting for my return.

Literary foraging - bring a shovel.

 AH HA!  

This past Saturday I found Bookman's Corner OPEN!

I went in...

It said no camera's allowed...

but there was no way anyone

would see me take a few snaps.

W H O A

Piles....and PILES 

of books.
Thus, I began my search to find exactly what I forgot I was looking for.

WARNING: If OCD stay away.
Somehow, the mystery in the overwhelming disorganization

caused quite a stir in me.

I wasn't sure where to begin...

so, I just wandered.

I let myself get lost looking.

Picking up random books...

listening to conversations...

watching people...

I loved it here.

The 'locator tabs' were hand-made...
the owner's attempt at applying some sort of structure to the chaos.

And the smell...just like I had imagined.

I wouldn't come here looking for something specific...you will never find it.

I walked away with four books for $6!
I replaced Catcher in the Rye as I gave my copy to Vee.
I've been wanting to read Sharp Objects every since I couldn't put down Gone Girl!  Score!
The proprietor told me as he picked up Steinbeck, promise me you will throw this book away once you've finished reading it.  In fact, he tossed the book behind him in a pile and laughed.  I'd be doing you a favor, you know.  Then he said, okay, I can't charge you more than a $1.
 Still want it?
 I can already tell I may not get through it...what is with the classics?
Ah...my fav...Oscar Wilde...couldn't pass it up. 
I'll tell you something, this place deserves a special trip.
I can't wait to bring Steinbeck back.
*heehee*

It was about closing time when I left.

I walked outside and saw this station wagon.

You're thinking what I'm thinking...aren't you?

Seems to me, the guy who owns the book store,

probably owns this car.

Rare...Medium...Well Done

Bookman's Corner...a hidden (no understatement) gem in Lincoln Park.

I've walked by this...book store? many times.

It has never been open...at least when I have passed by.

I'm dying to go in.

I'm intrigued by this place.

It's hard to see...but the books...are just haphazardly tossed throughout the store.

Buried...one on top of the other.
I've peered inside...stacks of books, papers, stuff...everywhere.

I must get in there.

I'm pretty certain he isn't using the Dewey Decimal System...

in fact, there seems to be no system in place at all.

But, can you imagine the smell of all the old books?

What hidden treasures await?

If you know me, I love the hunt of a really good deal.

I'm anxious to peruse and find some hidden coffee table book or
some dusty copy of the next classic on my list.

A chaotic mess...

but it looks like a fantastic place to kill some time this Saturday or Sunday 

while the rain comes down...

So, I'll grab my Indiana Jones hat and make my way inside there this weekend...

I'll let you know what turns up.

CLOSED. 

Damn.

Do you judge a book by its cover?

I'll be the first to admit...sometimes I do.  

How can you help it?  

Especially, when you stumble across a few classics in this watercolor edition.  

What an eerily intoxicating story the cover alone tells.  

What gothic romance awaits? 

What secrets lurk in the castles above?

And so began...

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte 

My friend Diane shared one night, that this book, of ALL books, was her favorite.  

I thought to myself...rightfully so...it is deemed one of the greatest works of English Fiction.

I couldn't wait to read it after she raved about it. 

I mean, how many books come along that you just looove?  

I mean..love so much...they are deemed a favorite!  

I only have a few...and they aren't trending as 'classics.'

Have you read this?  

All, 453 pages? 

I guess you either know the plot or not.  

In a nutshell,  it's basically an against-all-odds sort of love story.

This Jane character...wow, what a strong moral compass...dealt a tough hand of cards. 

Yet, what I loved most about her, was her strong sense of self, independence and her spirit.

Dealt a bad hand, or not...the cruelty she endured during her childhood, in my opinion, helped develop her independent nature.

She yields more to women of today than back in the day.  

Where we knew that era to prove women submissive, no voice...no dreams...Jane, was quite the opposite.  

A woman, definitely ahead of her time...and I liked that about her.

I'll be honest, I found myself, at times, drifting off...you know...a couple of pages later catching my thoughts and having to rope them back in.  

If you pick this up, you have to be in the frame of mind to read.  Absorb.  Take it in.  

Is it worth the read...or do you rent the movie?  

I guess it's up to you.  

I'm plowing through the classics...it's on the bucket list. 

In fact, my mantra of late...

I.must.read.the.classics.

What's next you ask?  

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte...the sister writes...stay tuned.

No TV yields a classic.

About two weeks ago my goddam TV just went black.  There was no warning...no snow...no sound without a view...nada...just went black.  Lame.  Lousy piece of crap.  So, I did some sluething around and found out it was probably the t-board and I could replace it at Radio Shack and take the back off of the goddam television and fix it and bam, that goddam TV would probably work again. I didn't do that.  And, I haven't bought another one...yet.

 Needless to say, I've got an abundance of 'free time'. I was thinking about my bucket list and remembered I had put read/reread the classics.  While we were in Europe, Vee and I had discussed this and we each bought one and decided we would trade when we finished it.  

Five months later and no TV, I pick up Catcher in the Rye.  

Did you read this?  Do you remember Holden talks just like that?  Every other word is lousy or goddam.  At first, I really thought the book was lousy.  I was asking people in casual conversations, what was so goddam great about Catcher in the Rye?  Why is this book deemed, a classic?  

I really was. 

 I really thought the goddam book was lousy.  

But, I kept reading it and I grew to like how J.D. Salinger wrote.  It was just like how he talked. He didn't shape the book after journalistic rules.  He seemed to just write and I liked that.

 After reading awhile, I started to feel a little sorry for Holden. He was a regular teenager.  Growing up and dealing and just making his way...discovering what it must be like trying to come into being a man. 

 My favorite part, is his affection for his sister, Phoebe.  He sneaks home one night (he got kicked out of Prep school) and wakes her up to talk.   Without going into all the detail, she asks him what he wants to be?  What do you want to do Holden? 

 I love that he sat there and had to think about it...and he finally said he didn't know. She was like - you don't know?  Who doesn't know what they want to be?  Then he explained he'd like to be in the rye fields when the children play.  When they are all high on life, floating around and getting too close to the edge. He would catch them...you know, be a catcher in the rye and all.  

Seems like a simple dream...or heroic in a way.  I don't know, I just liked it.  I liked that he didn't know what he wanted to do..at least not right away.  Because sometimes I don't even know...and here I am...41.

  I will tell you something...I don't think I've ever been in a rye field, and I decided I don't remember ever reading this book! 

 I came to this conclusion because, I didn't remember that is why the book is named, Catcher in the Rye.  Hence, on my bucket list, read the classics and reread the ones you think you've read...because I probably didn't or I didn't retain anything important about the book.  Reminds me of, St. Elmo's Fire - remember?  I didn't recall why or what St. Elmo's Fire meant...where was I?  

Regardless, I have changed my stance on it...I no longer think the book is lousy.  I think it's a goddam great book. I like the honesty and the emotions. I love his adventurous spirit and quest for love, albeit odd.  He seems so innocent, almost silly but courageous...and in the end...I liked all the language.  I found it entertaining...thankfully, right...cause, I still got no goddam TV. 

I wondered about the book.  I wondered WHY it had such acclaim because although, I like it...I don't love it. So, I read that most think, because of the time it was written, in the 1950's, it was deemed of such radical social opinion and written at a time of conservatism that if published today, it most likely would go under the radar and not have reached such stature. There is a lot of criticism and praise for the book...it's interesting to read.  What I found most interesting however, was to read about J.D. Salinger himself. He became uninterested in fame after seeking it and turned recluse.  Dying what most would consider a lonely life at 91.   

In the meantime, I've read Gone Girl (total page turner), The Perks of Being a Wallflower (cute - a movie is coming out soon) and Wife 22 (loved it).

How have I plowed through all of these goddam books?  Oh, my lousy TV broke.  Perhaps, not such a bad thing after all.