Joie de Vivre

After the necessary family, friends, health, love, career, education...

I'm thankful for people wiser with more insight than myself... And that they write it all down. Smart people learn from their mistakes; wise people learn from the mistakes of others. I'm not sure if I think of myself as having made "mistakes" in the true sense of the word, and my regrets are admittedly transient... But I'm appreciative of the opportunity to percieve life, love, god, sentience, novelty and routine through perspectives that would never have occurred to me without the words of others.

I've got an interesting booklist lined up for the next month or so:

Graceling, by Kristin Cashore
Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Tales, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Mistborn, by Brandon Sanderson
Buddhist Scriptures, by Anonymous and Edward Conze
The Sparrow, by Mary Doria Russell

I'm almost done with The Sparrow, Mistborn, and Graceling, and I'm sure I'll have something more to say about The Sparrow when I finish it, oh, probably tonight. Graceling is significantly below my reading level in terms of plot complexity and character development, but the concepts are fun. Mistborn is brown and gray and fascinating... But it's still brown and gray. I have all three books in that series, which were Christmas gifts from Caspian last year, and they're well-reviewed, so I should read them!

The Sparrow is thoroughly infused with Catholicism, which doesn't resonate a whole lot with me. While the personalities of each character are dramatically distinct and amazingly well-developed, they each have the same goal. I question the author's broad spectrum scientific assumptions, and one of the characters claimed that cuttlefish have two pupils in each eye. Huh? There's also a lot of puking in the book, quite a bit more than required, imho.

Despite having read The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes multiple times and the other books and stories at least once, the Complete Works are the treat I'm looking forward to reading during "vacation." I have a feeling that wedding is not equal to vacation.

The introduction to Buddhist scripture I'm currently reading perplexes me. There are core tenets, there are principles to be followed by monks (and each sect has different requirements), and there are stories that illustrate the lives and lessons of the Buddhas and bodhisattvas, among other writings of interest. There are elaborations on the meanings and implications of various concepts, and different interpretations thereof.

Why are women portrayed as creatures of frivolity, and are either a) suitable for marriage/sex or b) unsuitable for it? Why do the five core tenets apply only to men (as far as I can tell, the extended Buddhist definition of "sensual misconduct" is inherently impossible for a female to commit)? Why can't women be enlightened? I must explore further. Anyway.

I'll have to talk about the TRIAL I HAD TO TESTIFY AT AS AN ASSAULT VICTIM another day - it's a long story and deserves its own blog post!

On the morning of Thanksgiving, I was up at the crack of dawn, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (har), eating E.L. Fudge cookies and Haribo raspberry candies, gearing up for the 8k. Rini (formerly just R) came over at about 7:20a, and Caspian drove us to the race, which was packed with people. 3000 runners were expected! It was cool, foggy and calm, a perfect morning for a jog. We spent about 45 minutes freezing in our tech shirts and tights, mingling with the crowd and trying to warm up.

There were hardcore people, walkers, baby-pushers (whom I admire - those ladies should definitely be included in the "hardcore" category), little kids, fat but tireless old guys, and beefcake dudes whom I surmised would be unable to make it past the first mile-marker without walking. I can spot these types from a few hundred feet away, having spent about a million and three hours in various gyms over the course of my life. They tend to believe that function follows form, so they pump iron until they look like gods but get winded after one flight of stairs. I'm ruthless.

We chose a reverse strategy at this race: Jog leisurely on the downhills and 0% grades, and charge maniacally up hills shouting "HILL! HILL!" It resulted in an unhurried 9:30 mile average, but extreme soreness the following day. 650 calories' worth of Thanksgiving ginger snaps, torched!

Caspian and I went to his parents' for lunch (and the traditional Cajun crawfish dressing), and my parents' for dinner. It was a blast!

I spent the rest of the vacation hanging out with Natty & Pepper, eating, running (there's a 5k this weekend, right before my bachelorette party), and reading. We put up our baby Christmas tree. I sold 70% of my clothes and permanently discarded my forward helix earring. After being a lifelong piercing advocate, I have decided that au naturale is indeed the most beautiful. Caspian chose his tuxedo - with a close-fitting notched lapel, 2-button, satin-edged black jacket, ivory shirt, ivory vest and ivory bowtie.

I've successfully convinced a portion of my joie de vivre to return from vacation. I can't wait to be married to my singer, poet, book-connoisseur, lover and fellow bad-joke-generator. Who else could I spend my life with?!