For the Love of Love Letters
Truly, I am a sucker for love letters. Apart from the fact that I love writing them, I still hope that one day I would get one. I refuse to believe that it would never happen, yet over the years of having a relationship and being married, not once have I ever gotten a love letter. I forgive D for not giving me a love letter. He’s just too shy or too unromantic, but I guess that is okay.
To date, I still believe that love letters are more romantic than the act of giving flowers. There is just that ultimately intimate connection between two people when a person puts an effor to write a love letter, right? Though we blush at the thought of writing love letters, you have to admit, it is one of those things that a couple could always look back on. If a love letter is written with all the person’s heart, mind, and soul, then it would easily be evident. Besides, I think if a love letter were done without feelings, it would really feel that way. There is no denying the voice when one writes, everything is there.
This topic of love letters was inspired from the Sex and the City movie. In the movie, Carrie reads a book of compiled love stories from famous people in history. I want to get a hold of that book for myself, but I doubt if I can find it anywhere here*. In the last part of the movie, Mr. Big whispered in Carrie’s ear “ever thine; ever mine; ever ours.” Who’s love letter was that? The letter was written by Ludwig van Beethoven, and it is part of a series of letters called the “Immortal Beloved love letters”. Here is the letter from which the quote above came from:
SEX [And the City] and Unconquered
Hah! Finally, finally, finally! I managed to watch Sex and the City: The Movie [Uncut Version] *juicy*.
I did not realize it, but I forgot what it felt like when one watches Sex and The City. I have been following that series for quite some time already, and watching the movie was definitely fun. I never thought I would laugh like that again. Heh.. I know I am rather late for the SATC bandwagon, but then again, yesterday was the only time I MADE time to watch. Although I seriously had to keep covering Frankie’s eyes on certain scenes *ehem* after all, it was the UNCUT version of the movie. I had no idea it was that raunchy.
The crazy movie invoked in me all sorts of feelings including, love, heartbreak, anger, confusion, and lust(?). At certain points of the movie, I honestly did feel like I could very well relate to almost each story. By almost, I mean that I could never really relate to whatever is happening to Samantha Jones. Ironically, when I took a test to determine which person I am mostly the same, I came out as Samantha Jones. LOL I really have no idea why. But I like her a lot though, I like her more or less the same way I like Carrie.
Anyway, after watching the movie last night – and rewatching it today, I remembered how the Inzane one and I used to watch the said series back when we were in college. In fact, I think one of the very first things the Inzane one did when she had good Internet connection was download all the series’ seasons. I, on the other hand have not so good experience with Internet connection, therefore I have to rely on the telly for reruns of the series.
Thinking about the Inzane one plus a rant of the Deranged blogger pushed me to open my Yahoo email account. There, as I cleaned out the junk that normally piles on top of Yahoo mail, I unearthed emails from the Inzane one which were sent a couple of years ago – right around the time life was crappier and hard pressed [yes, the "I was pregnant with Sophie" stage]. I reread her email, and I almost cried. Somehow it still hurt, but not as much though. A part of the email goes like this…
Agitated, Constipated, Confused
Okay, so I did not have any other “creative” title for this post. I just thought of pretty words to decorate the post. Wakekeke.. Okay whatever.
So I got around to read the website rhardo was referring to in the previous post. Good stuff really. I did not get to read that article since I subscribed to the website. What I’m glad is the fact that I have made those steps mentioned in the website. It may not sound that obvious, as basically my agony at camp minus prison is obvious. But hey, I live to complain. Hahaha jowk (I’ve wondered lately why I spell joke as “jowk” hmmm)..
Okay, so Bo Sanchez’ article mentions the things that we need to do if we are no longer happy with our jobs. There are five things he states are the Options of the Entrepreneurial Mind.
Handel, Rain, and bloody Murder
It is 5:26 AM [as I begin typing] and I have not yet started my work. It could be that my brain is too tired to spin fine silken threads of thought, especially with a deadline looming ahead in approximately 3 hours. I cannot bring myself to write about designated things as of the moment, so I am letting my mind wander.
Yes, the post below was quite lengthy wasn’t it? I did not write that just now, really, but I found that lodged beneath tons of .docs and .rtfs in my drive and I decided to improve / expand the text. Sometimes agitation, confusion, and all other sociopathic leanings are good for churning out massive doses of useless web content. Yes? And here I thought I had given up rambling in favor of more useful content such as the ones I churned out over at Never Dainty.
The plan of reviving Never Dainty is still in the works as I really do not know what to write about right now. But I do plan to ensure that some good should come out of it – even go to great lengths as to finally copy edit my work done there. Nevermind the kind of hoobla I mass produce over at this end. Who cares what I rant over here anyway? It is my personal space after all.
…
Huh. How appropriate. Just as I press on play to the Hallelujah chorus, rain pours down heavily on the house – yes the house, who knows other places might not rain as heavily eh? FYI: I like rain as much as I like fire.
Thoughts about camp [minus "prison"]
I have resolved never to talk about camp minus prison anymore. A good friend noted that it sounded too negative. Well, it is – at some point. But it was, in fact, carefully chosen to fit it’s destined owner. Like most things, careful planning and deliberation must be done before names are designated – well, at least in in my case. For some, it is a Shoe Factory, a White Castle, the Pit, and some simply agree with what I deem it to be.
There are numerous definitions of “prison camp” defined in every encyclopedia. One’s view of the term may be swayed by whichever definition he or she has stumbled upon. In my case, I choose the definition “concentration or interment camp” from good ol’ Mr. Wiki.
An internment camp is a place where where people are detained for being political opponents, people with mental illness, enemy aliens, specific religious affiliations, or perhaps civilians who are in a critical war zone. It is also used to describe facilities where the “inmates” are chosen according to some specific criteria rather than those being incarcerated through lawful proceedings which is applied by a judiciary.
