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 |  Blog and other works of literary sense |
| Here is a collection of ruminations and whatnot. |
| Loner or being Solitary I seem to be more of a loner. I haven’t made many friends. I value friends but there have been too many times when I had to leave these friends behind. They either left or I left. I grew up having few friends. But my childhood years have been erased from my memory and replaced with new memories that had a different culture. I had this memory of playing with my dolls around me on the bed and I was conducting a pretend class or having tea with these dolls. I went to this programmed scenario of a series of scenes of being in a school and so I am rather doubtful about my first few years of life. In high school I would go to the library after classes and sit with a group of classmates. They all were fun to be with but we did our homework and kept our mouths shut. Once in a while we’d erupt into laughter and the librarian would come to tell us to be quiet. I did have a best friend who was a refugee from Cuba. She and I would attend Filipino parties where my stepparents enjoyed with their circle of friends. I never had a boyfriend in high school. I didn’t spend sleep overs with classmates. I got the idea that wasn’t something that my stepparents wanted. I didn’t care. I spoke on the phone with my best friend often. I lost track of my best friend in my graduate school. I had other friends who were my coworkers and they would be more of my stepmother’s age. They’d hold parties and other celebrations. They had children I got to know and yet we never really spent too much time together. There was a person who I went to high school with and she and I never did much but I remember times that she would take me to her rich home. I haven’t seen her in years. At one point we were facebook friends. She tried to encourage me to attend the high school reunion but it was too much to think of. I don’t know who are still around and I am not too eager to go and see these people again. I have learned to enter a restaurant and sit alone and eat my lunch without feeling somewhat unhappy. I don’t mind eating alone, really. Sometimes I look at my cell phone and see what’s what. Or bring a book to read. I am happier going shopping on my own. It’s a bore to be with a person who keeps looking and looking through racks of clothes and never really wanting anything to buy. And it’s a bore to be with other women who I knew at Purdue who also went and did the same thing, looking at things on display. Shopping was taken out of my list of enjoyments after I went and became a patient at the Yale New Haven hospital. I couldn’t stand hanging about and I couldn’t appreciate looking at clothes on the rack. Trying them on was another awful experience. I decided some stores aren’t that good so I decided to stop shopping at the mall. If I ever went to the mall, I’d go to the bookstore and sit and have a coffee or pastry while doing my reading or working on my laptop. But that’s become a hazard. The bookstore in Lafayette is dangerous to me. Bad Elohim have parked themselves there and made me suffer and die. I never have gone back to that bookstore. |
| I've had a chance to use my new typewriter. I had to do two pages over again before i could get to a reasonable page where I was able to write what I wanted. I kept hitting the wrong key to use the ' and it came out as a %. I also found that the ribbon had become stuck and I was not able to type the words where they could be visible on the page.. I removed the top part of the typewriter and adjusted the ribbon. I wrote my husband a letter and told him how I liked the new typewriter. He lives in another city. Once I get my Muse ready to do some writing then i can get along with the novel I have in mind. However, this novel is set in Paris so I'm not quite as prepared to describe the surroundings of the main characters. However, I wouldn't mind it if I got a windfall and went to Paris to do research. It would be so awesome, wouldn't it to go to Paris and look at the different placecs a romantic couple would spend time in. I'm hoping this might happen, but I don't think it will. It's rather an expensive trip to make. I'm having visions of flying in some cool jet and then landing in the airport which name escapes me. Then taking the taxi to a good hotel, and I'll have to find a good one on Travelocity to see how much they cost a day. Then when I get to the hotel I'll go to their restaurant or perhaps walk about and find a nice little place to drink coffee and a pastry, or perhaps have several different dishes that only you can find in Paris. I'm told that French restaurants aren't very generous with their food and that is why the French are always thin. Is this true, anyone? Then I might still be quite hungry after a trip to get some food, haha. I'll go into their bread and bakery places and find a long French bread and then find some cheese to eat it with and a bottle of wine while I sit and contemplate the view of the bridges that go along the Seine. I'll be bringing along a laptop and perhaps the typewriter. it will be rather a heavy load. I might take a thick notebook and write a lot of things that I happen to see. I'll take along my new camera and blog about my trip to my followers on Facebook. That would be cool, wouldn't it? I might meet a handsome and lovely man who I might have met some years ago during another job that I had in another city in another world. He'll be so charming and tell me he could escort me all over the placec and tell me the little unknown facts about the city of Paris. He'll be so charming that I'll have to include him in another story that I've already got in my little incubator of novels. Haha. This are my fantasies about going to Paris to write about a novel that's set in Paris. If only I had a fairy god mother who would love to send me to Paris for a period of time or perhaps an indefinite period of time. I woudn't mind living in Paris. The problem is that they have such expensive apartment dwellings. The landlords apparently demand months of rent in order to allow one to live in their apartment houses. I wish I had that ability to pay for lots of time to live in Paris. It would be lovely. I think that sometimes a little flight of fancy helps me to escape the rather dull life I have. It's rather a dull life where things get a bit boring. I think that's why I write but even writing is a bit of a risk. I think that risk is what is keeping me from going on with my writing. I'm hoping that God will take away the cares I have about writing. |
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