The Mundane 9:12 AM

It's not even midweek yet...

I've been working for about five months now and I've realized a few things about myself:

1. I will never get a head start on a project. I am a procrastinator of the highest degree.
2. I will never get used to the working life, waking up at 5:40am will never be my thing.
3. I will never enjoy working out. It's not fun. And for those of you who think it is, you're deranged. Go sit under the sun in a lounge chair, have a beer, and tell me if sweating your ass off and feeling like your lungs are going to combust is a better feeling.
4. I will never tire of wearing college sweatshirts and jeans (at least jeans are a step up from sweats), even if it's at a company with some of the trendiest people I have ever encountered.5. I really really really love to read. And I really really really want to write.


I read this book called The Feasting Season yesterday (it was a slow day at work, as I mentioned). It was about four things - Love, Food/Wine, Writing, and France. These are clearly a few of my favorite things (eh, unlike inevitable allusions to The Sound of Music). It was a bit slow at the beginning, and the middle, but MAN was it STEAMY! If there is one way to sexualize food, wine, and Europe, this woman has perfected it. It was a delicious read. Poignant, adventurous, and beautifully written.

I just ordered my next read (well, it won't be here for a week, so maybe my next to next to next read), Life Isn't All Ha Ha Hee Hee, for my book club. Sounds totally ridiculous, but I can't wait to read it. Apparently it's been coined "light South Asian literature" by the the group. I'm pretty excited. I'm hoping the book club will keep my reading analysis skills sharp! I loved all of my college English classes and I miss them! Maybe I'll eventually refine the book list I give to my friends and post it up here. Hm..

So outside of the work and literary realm, my social life is going to be blog-worthy over the next few weeks! I'm meeting my "love interest" (don't ask...) this weekend after quite some time. Next weekend I get the keys to my apartment (!!!!!!!!!!!!), and the weekend of July 4th some of my best friends from college are coming in town. That weekend is going to be outrageous, epic, and well-deserved for all of us (at least those of us who work...). I'm sure it will be a blast, and maybe I'll even be able to share a small "Chicago Hot Spots" post depending on where all we land up. I have high expectations am making some pretty fabulous plans. At least according to my Chicago-Novice experience set :)

So a lot of fun coming up. Now I just have to get through this work week!

Yours,
A

THXTHXTHX 10:32 AM

Another amazing blog that I will add to my endless (and ever-growing) list of faves. This one is sure to brighten my day, everyday.

THX!

To do. 8:37 AM

One of the things I have aspired towards most in my relatively short, inexperienced life, is writing a book. I read like a fiend, and feel that it would only be fitting if one day the book people hold to their chest after reading, breathless and in awe, has my name on it. Or my fake name at least. But I certainly have my anxieties. My written word is definitely not ready for the eyes and ears of millions (ideally assuming that it would hypothetically and hyperbolically reach millions). In fact, I find myself shy-ing away from the occasional curious blog-reader who's interested in perusing my blog! What is wrong with me? You'd think after studying English all through college, writing somewhere around 150 papers (this, unlike my previous statement, is not hyperbolic), and reading hundreds of books, I'd be confident enough to share. But nope. Cat named Insecurity got my tongue.

But, nonetheless, I find myself dying to write a book. I have a few ideas in mind, which I think would be rather riveting (if I do say so myself), but I'm afraid that each of them would manifest into a borderline elusive read where you never know wtf to make of anything. Reminiscent, perhaps of Kundera's Laughable Loves, or Winterson's Written on the Body (on an even more quixotic note...). I love (understatement) both of these, but damn do you have to read them over and over and over to get the point.

On the other hand, I have no doubt that my future novel would turn into some sort of a pink and fluffy girl-fest. I can only hope and pray it doesn't, but let's face it... I'm a girl. And not just am I, my literary "voice" is so undoubtedly a girl, that flowers fall out of the tip of her pen. And this, to me, is dangerous. Because although chick lit novels are a woozy to read, their literary value and the level of intelligence required to write them is questionable. And let's face it, although it's my dream to write, and although I shouldn't care if people ever want to read my novel, I absolutely do. What's the written word if nobody is there to read it?

So here, behold my predicament. But I will write a book one day. Watch me. And when I do, I'll let a few of you know, and for the others, you'll know when you read a florid poetic-prose book that makes no sense :)

Adieu!
A