Day 3 of Having Literary Standards: rations are low but my spirits are high. Okay sorry about that dear readers I just got back from a really long walk with my sister and that's just a crazy thing that my sister and I do when we're on a walk and we get tired when we're still really far from the house. We get stuck twenty minutes from home and start getting dramatic by saying things like Day 20, It's been so long since we've seen civilization that we've forgotten what the sight of human faces look like. Day 35, rations are low and we've begun to give up hope. It's another one of those sister things we do that no one finds amusing but us. We didn't get tired before coming back on today's walk, but it was a harrowing experience just the same. We took along the dog who picked up a dead bird that he may or may not have eaten (I really, really wish I was making that up for dramatic effect), and now we are both scarred for life. My sister is a lot more squeamish than I am, and so she responded to the crisis by screaming Eww, eww, this is the grossest moment of my life, eww, eww, does he still have it, tell me he didn't eat it while running in circles. I'll spare you any further details, but let's just say it was gross and leave it at that. And now it's official, I have totally crossed that line and become the kind of blogger who will talk about anything on my blog. I think this blog is making me too enamored with my own thoughts - I'm reaching a point where I'm unable to accept that the reading public does not care about every thought that pops into my head - which is why it's a very dangerous thing that I now have my Twitter page set up. I haven't put anything up yet, and I'm not going to start until tomorrow, but here's the link in case you're just dying to know what I'm doing at 11 o'clock tomorrow (I'm sure you're on the edge of your seats in anticipation.)
Today's book, "This lively history looks at the Jazz Age through its greatest symbol, the flapper. A far cry from the staid Victorian angel of the house, flappers wore their hair short, dared to show their legs, drank, smoked, and cavorted with young men."
Shallow thoughts:
- I really enjoyed today's book. Wow, I'm beginning to think that there's really something to this whole having standards thing. I'm going to have standards from now on. Oh who am I kidding, having standards probably won't even last the rest of the month.
- Perhaps I should have called this section of the entry Mean Thoughts, because I'm having one right now: The book talks a lot about how attractive people found Zelda Fitzgerald, but after looking at her picture I feel I have no choice but to strongly disagree. Why is it that whenever a person who lived 80-100 years ago is described as beautiful, stunning, or captivating they always look like a man in drag? I realize that standards of beauty change over time, but was there ever a time when looking like a man in drag was a beautiful thing to see? As I was writing that last sentence I turned to my sister and I said, "I'm having a mean moment" and then I thought, Brilliant. Mean Moments. I should make that a segment from now on. Or maybe not.
- There was a picture mid-way through the book, of feminists marching for women's suffrage, that made me want to go watch the documentary Not For Ourselves Alone which is my all-time favorite documentary. - Are you stunned that I even watch documentaries after my Bachelorette confession from yesterday dear readers? Sometime it stuns me too. I like to watch something tasteful and intelligent every now and then to balance out all the TV I watch that is totally useless trash. I try to tell myself that if I watch something decent it balances out the trash TV that I watch, and if I watch two decent shows then it erases the crap TV completely.
- And here's your fun fact for the day dear readers: At the turn of the century Vermont required all motorists to hire a person of "mature age" to walk one-eight of a mile ahead of their cars while waving red warning flags to warn innocent pedestrians. - I think I should have employed this method when I first learned how to drive, perhaps then a few garage doors, signs, and utility boxes would have been spared. I do take comfort in the fact that I never hit any animals are small children, so at least I have something working in my favor.
Favorite Passage: "Louisa's mother probably didn't want to know everything that went on at the dance halls her daughter frequented. A high-minded reformer described with horror a scene at a typical venue, where 'one of the women was smoking cigarettes, most of the younger couples were hugging and kissing, there was a general mingling of men and women at the different tables,' and the customers 'kept running around the room and acted like a mob of lunatics." - A general mingling of men and women? I don't know about you dear readers, but I feel scandalized just reading about that.
