What I love about literature are the little insights and mantras a reader can gain from a particularly striking piece. You know: Love prevails, nice guys finish last (or, hopefully, first), everything turns out all right in the end, and then my personal, most recent favorite: don’t wait a minute to bury your dead, especially if you lack embalming fluid and a skilled undertaker. For, if you do, you may end up dragging a stinking corpse across the country in a wooden box surrounded by hungry buzzards, stirring up havoc for everyone who encounters you. Blech. I love As I Lay Dying because it is an ironic, almost inverted quest, a grand journey to a hole that could be dug, almost anywhere, to deposit a body nine-days rotten that has no knowledge of where it’s being dispensed anyway…maybe. Maybe the body has more life than we think? That’s possible. But the beauty of this tragi-comedy of errors is that the body is, in a way, the focal point of the book; the entire book’s plot is structured around hauling a decaying body across townships to bury it in a town called Jefferson. Continue reading
Thus far, my 1000inadecade blog has been concerned mostly with images of weight and size: how my size has changed, how I perceive myself, and how culture treats fuller figured women. I will continue to write about these things. Indeed, yesterday I was researching size 22 model Tess Holliday and reading the scathing comments about her in the comment section. I was so angry after I read them that I had trouble sleeping, and almost hopped out of bed to write an essay before trying to sleep. I didn’t – I read some William Faulkner and drifted off – but I will likely write about the situation sometime soon.
A plan free Saturday shaped up rather well with lunch at our favorite local grocery store – Wegmans, some book shopping, and a delightfully impromptu mall trip. Lunch consisted of predictable pizza (on Michaels’ part) and Spicy General Tso’s chicken for me. At the book store, I satisfied a yearning for F. Scott Fitzgerald and Isabelle Allende, while Michael expanded his Deadpool graphic novel collection in preparation for the upcoming movie. In the same spirit of preparation, Michael called his brother to aid him in his quest for a Deadpool t-shirt, an “essential” item to attend the movie. I was less than excited by the prospect of looking at Deadpool t-shirts. That does not, however, mean that I don’t enjoy being at the mall on a Saturday afternoon. If I can meander through the concourse sniffing out what intrigues me, I’m perfectly content. I live off a part-time Professor’s salary, so I’m far from wealthy and have to watch my money carefully, but I just cancelled my cable. I figured I had that extra money to spend. And anyway, on this blog, I want to write about eating and shopping as a woman who wears plus sizes – with an emphasis on the shopping – so I need to do research, right? Continue reading