Rambles at 1 AM
Yes, with only 44% battery left on my brand-new, shiny laptop and sleep soon coming to me, I type the first entry to this Naturale Paradiso blog. Okay, so it is a little weird to be doing anything at one o’clock in the morning, but, this is me we’re talking about, and I’m a bit strange. For example: I’m a teenager, and I spend my weeknights while waiting to fall asleep listening to Tommy G on NJ 101.5 (an excellent radio station all-around). My portable CD player, which has access to radio, only receives two stations: NJ 101.5 and WPST. We have talk radio versus a variety of current music; sure, they’re not as bad as Q102, which plays only five God-awful songs OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, but it’s still annoying.
Anyway, I took the laptop to my bed to type NP, which was very beneficial today. My saved work moved onto the second page. Actually, this is why I was so excited about the laptop: since I believe that I’m basically done with the DEMI saga, I don’t really have anything to do but to type, type away (something that was extremely problematic when the only working computers were the one in my parents’ room and the outdated and broken one in my room, which is also occupied by my sister, who is currently asleep below me). This arrangement is just so much easier and more practical.
Okay, now to the reason of this current oddity. A few days ago, I was watching Doctor Who with Kristina and there was something said by this woman from the future that met the Doctor (but who hasn’t met her yet), and it reminded me of something from The Time Traveler’s Wife. It’s a more contemporary novel, but I love it.
This isn’t to say that I don’t like contemporary works of literature. I just can’t stand the nonsense crap that is continuously marketed towards my age set with the whole rich, snotty teens dealing with “problems” bullshit. Wow, this reminds me of my 12th grade English teacher, who refused to read anything that was not written by an author that has been dead for at least 100 years, which always brings a vivid picture of Mr. Holcombe with a gigantic, highlighted calendar listing the dates of all of these famous authors’ centennial anniversaries of their deaths, thus signaling the okay for him to read their work. Yes, I am a complete dork.
I started reading and although I could not put it down, it took me until Sunday to finish. The end made me bawl hysterically the first time, and for some reason, it got me again, although I had to quickly contain myself because I had to leave for my nonna’s house in only a few short minutes. For some reason, I don’t really mind the whole crying bit when reading or watching something. I believe that if it does it once, it’s really good, and if it does it time and time again, it is truly powerful. For ages, the end of The Return of the King always got to me, as well as bits in the last three Harry Potter books. Yes, it might confirm that I am, in fact, an in-closet sap, but I’m okay with that. Just as long as it doesn’t get out too much.
Okay, with it being almost two o’clock now and with only 32% of my battery left, I’ll return to normalcy and go to bed, for once.
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