Oh, I hate when this happens. I thought I'd sit down to write a blog post, and...nothing. I don't have a single thing that I want to write about. I'm temporarily disenchanted with the entire Internet, so perhaps that's spilling over and affecting my ability to write anything. I still love blogging, and reading all of your wonderful blogs, but I have to say that I am Twittered right the hell out. It might be premature to say so, but it's possible that I've Tweeted my last Tweet. I'm tired of email, tired of Facebook (and I STILL don't even have a Facebook page), and I feel like I just don't have anything left to add to the conversation, so I think I'll stay out of it for a bit.
I was writing for Examiner for a while, but I've decided to stop that too. Finding stories and people to write about was a lot of fun, but it's very time consuming and is paying virtually nothing. Now that my almost 8 year old is finished school and swim team launches into maximum overdrive, I just don't have time.
What else? School, there's something to write about. In a development that will shock no one, I have found to my dismay that the class I chose for its lack of rigor seems to possess plenty of rigor, thankyouverymuch. This could be another reason why I'm not feeling like writing: Because I'm writing ALL THE DAMN TIME, about a subject which interests me not at all. But I'm already 1/3 of the way through this class, so I'll just focus on the next few weeks, which will get me to the 2/3 mark. Then all I'll have to do is churn out another paper and take another final, and I'll be that much closer to finishing this degree. I have serious thoughts of quitting at least once a month, but I just slap those feelings down and keep going. I have to do this, I tell myself; I don't have to like it, but I have to do it.
Now I'm just going to ramble, in accordance with my "just sit down and write" method for combatting writers' block. It is usually quite effective. I just finished reading Curtis Sittenfeld's "American Wife". I read "Prep" two years ago or so, and thought it was very good, and that Ms. Sittenfeld is a very good writer. I still think so, actually. You have probably heard of "American Wife". It was rather controversial in that it is a novel based on the life of Laura Bush. The book is broken into four sections. The first covers Alice Lindgren Blackwell's early life, up to age 17 when she causes a classmate's death in a tragic accident. The second section begins when Alice is 29, single and a school librarian in Madison, Wisconsin, where she meets and falls in love with charming, irresponsible Charlie Blackwell, son of a former governor and GOP presidential candidate. The third section covers her mostly-quiet life as the wife of the restless and alcoholic Charlie, who eventually buys the Milwaukee Brewers. After Alice leaves him briefly, Charlie embraces evangelical Christianity, gives up drinking, and wins the governorship of Wisconsin. Section 4, titled "1600 Pennsylvania Avenue" covers Alice's years as First Lady.
For the most part, I liked the book very much. "1600 Pennsylvania Avenue" is where it fell apart a bit for me, and not because of my dislike of the Bush Administration. The problem is that while the events of the first three sections closely parallel what we know about the life of Laura Bush, there's just enough that's different that I still feel like I'm reading a novel. The supporting characters, including Alice's parents and grandmother, her childhood best friend, and her spoiled and shallow but kindhearted sister in law, are all very well drawn, and Alice is a very complex and introspective character. "1600 Pennsylvania Avenue", though, reads like a story about the Bush White House in which nearly nothing but the names have changed. While in the previous three sections, Alice's interior life is nuanced and detailed and interesting enough that we'd want to read about her even if she remained a school librarian, the last section reads like a recollection of events and not much more. Maybe that was intentional...maybe it was the author's way of demonstrating how an ordinary person becomes one of the most famous people in the world and thus loses the right to have a private life, even inside her own head. Reading it, though, it feels like at that point, Ms. Sittenfeld just wanted to finish the book. Still, it's a very good summer novel, and I'd recommend it.
This concludes one of the most meandering and pointless posts I've written yet. I started on Internet Fatigue Syndrome (did I make that up? I'm going to Google it and see where this post comes up in the search results), briefly covered children and swim team, found my way to complaints about life as an adult student, and then a brief book review.
I love Chex Mix, especially the Cheddar flavor, but I hate the little triangular cheese crackers, so I pick them out. Maybe you like the cheese crackers, but you don't like the little pretzels. Think of this post as Chex Mix. There might be something worthwhile in there somewhere; just throw out all the rest.