Why did I read the book Love in the Time of Cholera?
Because Sara, in the movie “Serendipity”, pulled it from her bag, and wrote her number in it, so that, after she sold it to a used book store the next day, Jonathan would have a chance of finding it and contacting her, if fate – serendipity – allowed it.
And her character in the film has always reminded me of the girl I want to be.
So, since she had it for some reason, likely to read it, I thought I’d have it and give it a read.
And I did.
And that isn’t the oddest of reasons I’ve read books, either.
(… just in case you were wondering…)
If another adult – recalling that I am, in fact, an adult myself – insists that I call him/her “Dr.”, because he/she ‘worked so hard for that degree,’ or because he/she is ‘so proud of having earned it,’ is that not quite comparable to my saying that people must converse with me in French, because I worked so hard to learn it and I’m so proud of being able to speak it?
(I’m not saying that it’s the same, but just comparable oddities with the same reasoning.)
It’s just a thought that came to mind today, and it has me a bit flummoxed.
I grew up in a world where we are all people, not classes or ranks, so I’ve never really been able to understand people’s required uses of name ranks (beyond someone’s voluntarily being respectful in addressing another, I mean [though even that gets me sometimes]).
Well, naturally, I am sick from stress, yet again.
My throat feels a fire burning fervently within.
Menstruation has been timely to increase my need for sleep.
And I’ve loads to do; so, please, let’s pray that I keep… up.
I have an organized (-ish), color-filled explosion of Indian outfits on my bed and desk chair right now, and it feels, somehow, really, really good.
I’ve never even been to India, but I feel this strong connection to many parts of its culture…, my mom was Indian in her previous life, so perhaps I was, too…, or perhaps she merely passed the culture down to me in this life… ;D
Whatever the case, I’m entirely delighted about these clothes, which is why I still haven’t started putting them away, since I pulled them all out to see for the first time this afternoon. 😛
Not much else in life feels quite so good as a love-filled embrace from my big Pink Panther, who cuddles and snuggles me in full hugs for however long I might need or desire, and whenever I reach out to him…
I’m beginning to feel, after someone asked me about my writing this morning, that the main reason I like and am drawn to writing so much, is that it is an opportunity for me to express myself without being interrupted, put down (directly), or even ignored (noticeably)… I get to be myself and to express myself, no matter who might be nearby.
I’m not sure if I like that or not, though…
I’ll ponder for another day or month or so, and see where it gets me… perhaps it’ll be breathtakingly phenomenal, when I have a breakthrough out of what I find in that pondering.
Being a librarian (in a great library with great people) feels good… and I’ve been wondering about it more and more recently, the idea of possibly being a librarian…. now I get to do a sort of trial run…., and I like it… and I want more of it… I think…
(I think this is how we want money-earning to feel in life…)