80 Degrees!

A few moments ago, I was outside in the front yard on my picnic blanket. I ate some ice cream and I was trying to finish Under the Tuscan Sun (it's hard when it's windy and you're worrying about your hair blowing into your ice cream and them up into your face and getting everything all sticky). It is 80 degrees outside, and very windy, but for warm weather, I'll take it. It hasn't started raining yet, but here are storm clouds settling around, so, unfortunately, this will not last.

Frances Mayes writes such beautiful descriptions. I'm jealous. I'm afraid my writing talent does not lie in describing things, but that does not mean I cannot appreciate them. In her "Relics of Summer chapter in the book I meantioned I was reading, Frances Mayes has a couple particularly interesting descriptions. "Clearly we are in someone's head," she writes, "midnight imaginings of the descent, the fall, the upward turn." She is describing being in a cathedral, but I like how she points out how the pictures were painted, and how good the artist was. I also like on the next page-she describes Montepulciano as "that town whose syllables sound like pluck strings on the cello." nothing really significant altogether, but standing alone, I think her descriptions and analogies are constructed in a most lovely fashion.

Typically I get lost in description. According to my psychology professor last semster, my personality type (INTP on the Meyers-Briggs test-thing) tends to miss details. I suppose that's why I don't write them-I don't take the time to see the world as anything more than just a big picture. My stories are usually filled with two things. Dialogue, and many ramblings of musings (either of myself or myself through the characters). Anything non-fiction I write is either more musing and thinking or just plain weirdness that comes from who knows where.

I'm a little annoyed right now. I thought that it was clear to everyone I love that I am not going to go to college, and that they knew the many, many reasons why I have made that choice. But today I've found that some people just don't understand. It's very frustrating, and getting my mood down a lot. I am not going to college. Can't they just accept that? It's not where I belong; it's not where I am supposed to be. I know where I am supposed to be. I'm supposed to be here, learning on my own time, and preparing myself to be a wife and mother.

Anyway, I've got to go assist with grocery unloading. TTYL!

~Jessica