Alone

Nacho's with melted cheddar cheese, hamburger cooked with onion, and sour cream for a comfort food eat. Thank goodness, the results from another mid-term revealed my 100% is in tact. I, impressed, my own damn self. Given, what I was experiencing when I took the doggone tests. I am working, like mad, this new obsession with Vladimir Nabokov has quantified my desire to do my best. I had to meet with the literature instructor today to talk about an essay paper. She asked me a weird question: "Is it Humbert Humbert you are obsessed with?" I almost jumped out of my skin. Vladimir says, "It is me. Me. Me."

It is too funny , since I've been listening to Lolita on Audio book, an 11 CD set narrated by Jeremy Irons.

Now and forward, everything I read sounds like Jeremy Irons in my head. I am so laughing. I truthfully cracked myself up last night when reading a piece by Virginia Woolf.
Whom, I don't, reckon when she wrote it, could dream the voice to go with it would be the same as Humbert Humbert's. Ha ha ha ha. Am, I laughing alone? I hope not. Oh, please, let me keep talking about Vladimir, Lolita and Humbert Humbert.....It'll be over with as soon as I finish the book. Then, it'll just be Vladimir Vladmirovich Nabokov. He's done plenty of work's to choose from. I'd be a fool to not read as many as I can. I would be lying, to say reading the beauty of his writing didn't have a small impact on the awareness of my clumsy, messy and incomplete style. The only time I think, I do any good writing is the type that comes right straight from my heart.
I wrote my daddy's obituary last month. The people loved it. I did not want to be a good writer. I wanted to say how very much I love my daddy. I wanted to say why. How, his living mattered.

I've been writing forever much Like, a lot of writer's I cannot imagine a time I was not scribbling. I have old fashioned journals in various forms. I keep saying to myself and my sister, "I'm going to burn those damned things." I cannot imagine what my brothers, sisters and child might think of the insanity spilling, flowing, dreaming-believing onto those pages. Should they see it upon my death. I was a very good journal keeper; I had, a key at the top of the page. What was the weather like? If, I got to run on that day and how many miles. Plus, a code to tell myself when I broke from the journal and returned to it, LSD=Later Same Day.
Okay, maybe I could be a little OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Dissorder). I I like to believe I am just a little tiny bit. Not to make, light of a serious condition. I go back, on occasion. I had a wise bestfriend who told me once with his hand the journal he wrote on, "If I can't put it here, Where can I, put it?"

I used to listen.

He also told me, to journal is a way of knowing and being able to look back. Once, in awhile I'll look back at the same day a year before. To check and see if I've grown any. What was I thinking? Did I make a plan, to not encounter, a similar issue?
Vladimir Nabokov's writing is so much more complex, than any of this. He wrote, an introduction and then his voice alone narrated the rest of the story. In the end his voice still had final say. He was the master writer in how he only gave to the reader: What he wanted the reader to have.
How, is that, for control, directing and acting? I reckon, I too, am a puppet master. In what I want people to know, see and believe about me. The beauty of that statement is: I cannot lie to myself nor, another person. The humor of it is, I could lie to myself all I want to. But, who would believe the lies? I am sure, this is the number one reason, Velma is my bestfriend. Many , lady-like, hoity toity, proper ladies were 'Oh, so polite and sweet.' (Yeah, w-h-a-t-e-v-e-r.) They would say to my bestfriend, "Now, be nice Velma. What about being nice." My BFF didn't skip a beat, as she replied within seconds, "What about being honest?!" We've been friends for several years. We've been BFF's for about six years. Velma is 93.

LSD~~
Friends don't let friends drink and blog.
Or as HH would say, "She seduced me."