There Isn't Anyone Out There Who Isn't Seymour's Fat Lady

Chapter One:

Less than five minutes have passed since I turned the final page of Franny and Zooey. No matter how many times I am reminded of it, I am always left silent and wide eyed at Salinger's understanding of simplistic beauty. This novel is scripture, so if you haven't read it, do. Immediately. I'm not going to tell you too much about it in case you haven't read it (I do so detest when endings are spoiled for me, I won't do the same for you) but I will say this: Too often we let ourselves forget the significance of life's details, and it takes a wordsmith as skilled as J.D. Salinger to remind us. Whether you believe in God, or like me, simply love, we all need to remember how this entity lives in everything. And everyone.

Chapter Two:

On an entirely unrelated and completely more trivial note, I have somehow spent the last couple days repeatedly stumbling onto photos, articles, and video clips about beauty pageants (and by "stumbling onto" I don't mean the website. Damn thing has ruined the use of that phrase forever). The first one was a television show called "Toddlers and Tiaras," I think. It is about tiny children. In beauty pageants. Oh. My. Dear. God. I watched clip after clip, as one might if an airplane carrying two hundred fifty passengers fell from the sky and spat its twisted gore into one's backyard. There were two year olds with spray tans, six year olds with fake, perfect-toothed denture things, and the most horrifying parents I have ever witnessed. Mothers scolding their little girls for crying when their eyebrows were plucked or they were too worn out from hours of dance routines, and exclaiming "I've put her in pageants since she was six months old! I am very competitive, and my baby is going to win." Yikes.

Exposing you lovely readers to this seems wrong, but I feel the need to share my sick fascination. So here is an example:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORcBTC7TiVY&feature=SeriesPlayList&p=7C1D93B3366B575E

Additionally, it is apparently once again time for the Miss America pageant. I have never watched this spectacle, but due to my new morbid interest in the subject, I may just start doing so. So lets peruse the contestants, shall we? I'll chose a few of my personal favorites judged entirely by the pictures of them I found on yahoo news. Because God knows that yahoo news provides not only fantastic and important information (ie the article about the man who lost his cell phone and spent hours looking for it. That was the whole thing.), but also helps to develop a profound depth and wisdom within the heart of every reader. So without further adieu...

Miss Puerto Rico

I am left believing that somewhere there is a secret laboratory concocting women like this. Unfortunately the technology has not been perfected, so they are left unable to move any of their facial muscles from this position. Also why is her background made of tinfoil?

Miss Idaho

This just makes me feel very uncomfortable. I don't know what else to say...

Miss New Mexico

She's preeeettyy.

Miss Nevada

Ooo she's pretty too!

Miss New Hampshire

Could someone please explain to me why this woman DOESN"T HAVE A NOSE?!

Miss Wyoming

Dear Miss Wyoming, thank you for being lovely and looking like an actual human being at the same time. It is a trait I greatly appreciate. Why can't more of these women understand that artificiality is not beauty? Of course, I shouldn't judge someone's authenticity by a photoshopped representation of them, and won't. But really, be yourselves, ladies, come on!

Chapter Three:

You may remember (or simply note by scrolling down the page) that I was in a slight state of panic the other day in regards to my classes. Well, no more! I managed to land an absolutely wonderful schedule. School for me now consists of writing poetry, reading and writing plays, and studying literature. May I simply say this: Fuck yeah. The next few months are going to be spectacular.

Chapter Four:

I would like to take a moment to congratulate one of my dearest friends Marty Cain, as today, January 30th, is the anniversary of his 19th year of life. If you don't know Marty, he is a wonderful person and a talented, heartfelt musician. Check him out and throw him a happy birthday:

http://www.martycainmusic.moonfruit.com/

With that, I will get back to sitting on a couch and making sure no one steals pianos out of the music and dance building (This is my occupation. I sit on a couch. I go on my computer. I read books. I get paid. Yessss). I must say though, this place is rather eerie in the middle of the night. Lets hope I remain un-harassed by specters.

Love,

GennaRose

An Apocalyptic Eulogy

It is a day of heartbreak in both the world at large and my own life. J.D. Salinger, my favorite writer and greatest literary inspiration, died at the age of 91. There are letters saved on my computer which I wrote to him months ago and now will never send. "For Esme With Love and Squalor" has been my favorite short story since I first read Nine Stories, and I have been reading Franny and Zooey all week, coincidentally. Last year I ended up spending an entire college interview describing my theories on the writing of Salinger, and catcher in the Rye, of course, is so well loved it need not be expounded upon. J.D. Salinger was a man who saw the beauty in innocence more clearly than anyone I have ever encountered. His work was bitter, broken, delicate, and true. He changed my life in immeasurable ways, as well as the lives of thousands of others, and if the future has any sense at all it will make sure his writing is always alive.

On a different but possibly related note, it has been snowing all day and about half an hour ago the sky went dark, the snows and winds picked up to a blizzard like level of mightiness, and there was snow thunder. Yes, that's right-- resonant thunder in the middle of a snowstorm. That is the second snow thunder this winter, which has not occurred at any other point in my memory. It looked apocalyptic in the most biblical of ways, until five minutes later the sky lit up, the snow resumed a regular rate of falling, and the thunder stopped. I believe the cosmos was mourning the death of Mr. Salinger with the same fervor that I am.

Lets hope for less tragedy tomorrow. Perhaps I will acquire, by an act of divinity, a pie of some variety (note: if you are reading this, that "act of divinity" could be YOU!).

Love,

GennaRose

The Kind of Day Which Calls Desperately for Pancakes and Ice Cream

The First Point of Order: Introductory Delights

I'm GennaRose; a student at Hampshire College, a poet, a drinker of strawberry-cream tea, an appreciator of old books, an enjoyer of sidewalk chalk, a rooftop stargazer, a sleeper of strange dreams, and a candle light child.

And thus begins my first blog post-- because of course, all I need is another place in cyberspace to distract me from the real world. Who knows, perhaps if I manage to fill up every waking hour with pixilated entertainment it will be nearly the equivalent to hibernating through winter. (Note: I mistyped hibernating, and when I clicked spell check it suggested "cybernating." Is this a concept that exists already...?)

I still have yet to decide what I actually plan to write on here. I really just created it because I've had a long day and was excited because I made a backpack. Why making a backpack immediately birthed the thought "I should write a blog!" is as much of an enigma to me as it is to you. Which brings us to our second point of order.

The Second Point of Order: I Made a Backpack. Hooray...?

Ah yes. A magnificent beast has risen from the dust. It is striped and lumpy and fantastical in all the glory of a creature molded from random bits of string. Indeed, it is a mighty creature. Behold!

I crocheted it with scraps of yarn over the past week. It was finished just in time for classes to begin, as the last touches were literally sewn in place on the bus to one of my courses. My timing is always impeccable in the most procrastinatory of ways. Yes, there is a bear inside. I put him there to emphasize the spaciousness of the bag, but as he is quite present I may as well introduce him. His name is Teddy. Granted, my creativity as a four year old wasn't quite as developed as it could have been, though I did write this poem:

The Ogre

The Ogre sits upon the castle tower.

He doesn't stir, he doesn't move, for not a sound he hears.

Whenever people come upon his castle door again,

He'll eat them up and eat them up

And have them all for dinner.

Now it's bedtime.

The Ogre is still waiting.

-Genna Nethercott, age 4

The Third Point of Order: A Tumultuous State of Educational Potential

Spring semester began today, and I am officially on seven wait lists. And that is it. In other words, I am effectively not actually enrolled in any classes whatsoever. You may be asking yourself, "But Genna, you are a student! Wouldn't a student in no classes be in a bit of a predicament?" Oh yes. A predicament has befallen me, indeed. In fact, I have been in a constant state of panic for the entire day, yet my journal was tragically left behind in a mod, leaving me with no means of literary ranting. Therefore, out of a final trapeze act of writer's desperation, I decided to create this blog.

The Fourth Point of Order: The Irony in Attempting to Plan Spontaneity

My life is distressingly void of impromptu adventures to whimsical destinations. I want to step into the road with a backpack (MY NEW BACKPACK!?) full of canned soup, crumpled bits of paper, and a packet of matches and hitchhike to San Francisco, or Chicago, or Savannah, or Lansing, or any other random spot. Winter has always made me restless. As a little girl, I would build tiny summer scenes inside of shoe boxes, cover the top with tissue paper to let light in, and cut a hole in the front. Then I would peek inside and imagine that I was there, inside the shoeboxian tropics of my imagination. It was rather pitiful, really.

So if you want an adventure of epic proportions, whether it be to New Mexico or the roofs of Amherst, I am a more than willing companion.

It is 1 am. I have class tomorrow (at least, I will be attending a class I am not actually in...). I hope you all have a delightful evening (I have no idea who I am speaking to. If you are reading this, say hello!). I will leave you with this image, and this image alone.

Love,

GennaRose