Thursday, November 11, 2010

Egad, Laws, Psha, and other British Exclamations, Circa 1852


I take far too many things to heart.

I mean, I really let things affect me.

I like to think it's a good thing; that it means I am terrifically empathetic and understanding.

But really, it just means that my state of mind is completely up for grabs.

Let's cut to the chase and just call me unstable.

Fickle.

Capricious.

Changeable.

At least as far as mood goes (but don't think for a minute that my loyalties are as inconstant as my emotions, because they are quite the opposite. My affection, once won, is iron-clad).

Take tonight, for instance:

I became aware of the recent sad happenstance of a distant relative of mine (whom I have never met, mind you). Via facebook, no less. I do not know any details, but my imagination does a well enough job of filling in most gray areas, and my heart goes out to her. For an hour now, I have been able to think of little else, and have turned blogways (it's kind of like sideways, trust me) to sooth my tender feelings.

Take two summers ago, for another instance:

I was reading A Thousand Splendid Suns (if you haven't read it, do it now. NOW!). Circumstances in the book were such that I spent most of the day crying. After I put my own children to bed, I sat in the living room and read/sniffled/agonized. When I heard the sound of our garage door opening - a sound that heralds the homecoming of my champion, my one true love - I was momentarily seized with fear, thinking for a brief second that mine was the life of an abused Afghan wife, and that my husband was come to beat me senseless.

Of course my wits returned, and I ran to his outstretched (and ever gentle) arms, but held in my bosom the wisp of an illogical resentment for a few days. Until I read something else. Something cheery and romantic.

Is it any wonder that my dear, friendly mate encourages me to read happy books?

And not watch the news?

Sometimes I feel like a failure for being so easily distracted.

Consumed.

Engrossed.

Crazier than a pet coon.

Is it a symptom of a weak mind?

Be kind, lovely reader, but do tell me...

Am I normal?



p.s. If you guessed that I am currently knee-deep in Vanity Fair (not the magazine - the novel), you are correct. And it's a doozy.

p.p.s. As I just figured out how to publish our recent family photos, be prepared for a barrage of random, have-nothing-to-do-with-my-posts pictures!

11 comments:

Michelle said...

I like you the way you are. Your tender heart allows you to say things that make others feel special. You, my dear, have a gift. I do hope I can make you feel at least 1/2 as special as you have made me feel. (I prefer whole but I am not even 1/2 as good as you)

LOVE the pic of you and Ty. I LOVE the way you adore him. I just LOVE you!

P.S. The only books that stay with me and haunt me are the scary ones. I lay in bed convinced someone is after me.

Sharlee said...

I think you are totally normal, but who am I to say. It's interesting how literature sucks you in as if you're living it. Tho I don't read menny books, I due know that.
I can't wait to see all your random family photos. I love the one in this post. Keep 'em coming!
Love you!

Stephanie said...

Nope. You're not normal. You're better than normal. Unfortunately, nowadays, it seems that the norm is to only look out for your self and not consider how others are affected by whatever might be affecting them. So, no you're not normal. Maybe someday, more people will be like you, and then, not only will this world be a better place, but then you'll be normal :)

Marianne said...

Oh, you are so normal. At least I hope you are because that would mean I am too.

Is Vanity Fair the book any better than the movie? I felt it was a total waist of two hours.

Marianne said...

P.S.- I also LOVE the picture of you and Ty. So sweet!

Marianne said...

I mean "waste." Apparently I don't reed menny books eether.

Christy said...

If you aren't normal, then neither am I. For I, feel the exact same way. For example last night I was watching dateline.Dateline and I have a love / hate relationship. I Love the show because it is so interesting and I am practically screaming at the TV with disgust at some of the people on there, but yet I hate it because I get all emotional thinking that something horrible as being murdered and stuffed into a bag and thrown in the dump, not by my husband but by some physco neighbor or something like that that I even told my husband last night, "I think I am not going to live long..." Of course he, the rational one, always tells me, you just watched Dateline/murder mystery and you always get too emotionally attached. So,you described that perfectly, Andrea, as always! I can't wait to see your family pictures! That picture is gorgeous of you. You have such a beautiful profile! Lucky.=)

Parley and Anna and family! said...

Normal. Because you're related to me and I'd hate to subtract from the empathy you might have for me after reading a post on our blog (for instance the one in the making at this very moment--I just had to take a little break). Plus, I might consider it normal since I tend to do similar things, except I tend to do it mostly with dreams. I'll have some dream that Parley did something that I didn't like and I will wake up soooo mad at him. Nonsensical. I know.
Nope, you're not crazy. Not one little bit.

Mardee Rae said...

Considering that for the last 3 weeks my romance with Spencer has gotten extremely complicated, ever since, in my head, he became Peeta and I became the Mockingjay (if you've read the Hunger Games, you'll know what I mean), I know exactly what you are talking about. And can you imagine the look of disdain and the cold greeting that Spencer recieved the night he came home and I was 3/4 through the movie "Not Without My Daughter"?

So, if you are crazy, take me along. And if your husband ever needs the moral support of other men married to crazy women who's emotions are so easily steered in any direction, have him contact Spencer.

Also, I think you are so funny!

StephO said...

I LOVE that book and have had the same conversation with myself. I think that I feel much more peaceful about my life when I am grateful (and there's nothing like a sad story of poverty and misfortune to make me feel grateful). It helps me WANT less and appreciate more. Other kinds of reading leave me longing and really, who needs that? All you have to do is look around for that! I want to feel inspired to live TODAY with happiness. So, I guess I'm crazy, too. Maybe that's why I like you so much. Love the photo, hottie.

Sawdust and Paperscraps said...

Not normal at all. I can say that, you know, because I'm not either. If there even is a normal. My mom always told me that there wasn't. I always thought she was just saying that but maybe she was right.

Anyway, I react the same way to what I read or watch. I feel as though I went through whatever it is that happened. I spend a whole day mad at Wes after a particularly disturbing part in "The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo". I try to watch happy movies and read self help books as often as possible.