i won't worry my life away

The news from back home was much better yesterday. I won't have to worry as much anymore and can get my own life back in order without fretting about someone else's. Perhaps yesterday's leap day was the sign of good things to come - mostly because it signaled the end of February's gloomy reign over my mood. March promises to be so much better.

But since the events of February are still weighing on my heart and my head, it seems appropriate that this particular passage stuck out to me in my reading of Margaret Atwood's Blind Assassin:

"She began to fret about God's exact location. It was the Sunday-school teacher's name: God is everywhere, she'd said, and Laura wanted to know; was God in the sun, was God in the moon, was God in the kitchen, the bathroom, under the bed? [...] Laura didn't want God popping out at her unexpectedly, not hard to understand considering his recent behavior. [...]

Probably God was in the broom closet. It seemed the most likely place. He was lurking in there like some eccentric and possibly dangerous uncle, but she couldn't be certain whether he was there at any given moment because she was afraid to open the door. "God is in your heart," said the Sunday-school teacher, and that was even worse. If in the broom closet, something might have been possible, such as locking the door."

I don't know if I can particularly explain what drew me to this without detailing the exact ins and outs of my religious faith. That would be far too complicated. But I guess when it comes to death and when bad things happen, sometimes it feels as though God really is just lurking out of sight. Sometimes it feels as though we anticipate His presence when it can't be confirmed, as if by knowing his exact location He would not be so alien to us.

I don't know where I was going with that. I apologize if that made no sense.

Unfortunately, I can't give much context to the passage given that I wouldn't want to spoil the story for anyone, but I think it works fine on its own because it is part of a flash back - the other half of the novel reads to me like a novelization of Fantastic Planet, which is an animated French film from the 70's that I (strangely enough) really enjoy. Here are some stills, which will most likely confirm to everyone reading this of how utterly bizarre I am as a person. Ah well.

And though I am probably giving you a completely inaccurate account of Blind Assassin to you because I have not yet finished the book, I would still recommend it. I've read so many books of late which have left me with this unsatisfied and vaguely repulsed feeling that it's nice to gain some relief. I would also recommend Fantastic Planet as well, though it probably brands me as the hipster I don't mean to be because it's almost impossible to find.

I hope I haven't scared you off. It is past one o'clock in the morning and I should be asleep by now, but my thoughts have kept me awake. Lots of creative ideas brewing, so maybe something will come of them when I finally pick up my pen.

Night all. Enjoy March.

i set fire to the rain

The boy has been playing that Adele song repeatedly for the last two days, and it's been such a gloomy day today with all the rain and cold hovering outside that it just seems appropriate. It's been the strangest week for me - I find myself stressed and burdened with the knowledge of problems I cannot fix.

But February is almost over. That is some solace at least. March always promises to bring good news, or at least a brighter aspect to my life in relief from the persistent sadness that pervades February's character.

I'm writing again. I've been very inconsistent the past year, and have neglected my journal and this blog - which I do often. But the fact that many of my friends have taken up their own blogs has inspired me to return here to see if I can make sense of what direction I would like to take from this point on. An old friend told me a while ago they enjoyed seeing my own writing here, which I'm still somewhat shy about because of that nagging self-consciousness that nothing I write is really worth reading. But a creative writing class I took last semester definitely helped develop my confidence, so perhaps I will post a little more often. And I would like to discuss the books I read, though not necessarily in a formalized book review sort of way. I just like good writing, and would like to share those passages I come across that I find particularly compelling.

Currently, I've been reading Margaret Atwood's Blind Assassin off and on since the new semester began. During Christmas break I was able to read a lot of books within a short period of time, but I really do like to allow myself time to digest Margaret Atwood fully, and so I find myself trying to fit in a chapter or two between the mountain of reading and work I have for school. I came across a paragraph or two that really seemed poignant to me, but I don't want to overwhelm myself in ambitiousness with this first post back and will share and discuss it in the future.

Besides reading, I'm scrambling to figure out my future. This time next year I will be a college graduate, which is both exciting and terrifying. I'm attempting to ignore that for now, though. The summer is what is proving to be an obstacle. So far, I've applied for four different internships at publishing companies in Nashville and New York, and am contemplating applying to three separate internships with PR firms in Atlanta. I haven't heard back from any of them given that it is so early in the year, but I'm still waiting in eager anticipation until the end of March. Wish me luck, amigos.

I suppose that is enough to inundate you with for the time being. Until next time (there will be a next time, promise).