I love to read. I always have. I have been devouring books as long as I can remember. My Dad used to make fun of me for being the only 12 year old he knew that was reading Bronte, Dickens, and Austen just for fun.
I was naturally put in AP English in high school and I remember my teacher telling me that she wished that she could give me a higher A. Writing essays on William Faulkner was fun for me. I loved every book we read. I couldn't get enough of Willa Cather, Thomas Hardy, and John Steinbeck.
*Disclaimer* I also read every book in the Sweet Valley High and Baby Sitters Club series. Hey, I don't discriminate. I just like to read. I'll take anything.
I thought about majoring in English in college. But I was already double majoring in theatre and broadcasting. Plus I was taking extra French courses just for fun and I almost had enough credits to minor in that, so an extra English major was out of the question. Plus I was reading enough Tennessee Williams and Bertolt Brecht in my drama classes to satisfy that need.
I knew that one day I would name my first born son, Sydney Carton, after my favorite literary figure. I didn't (obviously) but I did give both of my children literary names. Bennett came from Pride and Prejudice and William is pretty obvious. If you can't get that one you should just move along to another blog. Even the name of our dog Meg hails from combining my love of literature and theatre (Little Women and Phantom of the Opera.)
I was thrilled when the cute red headed worship leader I was interested in told me that he had majored in English. How perfect! I could already imagine long evenings reading Chaucer by the fire and spirited debates over dinner regarding what Madame Defarge was sewing into her quilt.
Fast forward to last weekend. My husband surprised me on Mother's day by lining up our sweet friends to take care of our kids so he could take me to see the latest movie adaptation of one of my favorite novels, Jane Eyre. I knew most husbands wouldn't do that, but my English majoring hubby wasn't like most others. I delighted as my favorite characters appeared on screen and I couldn't wait to talk about them later with Rob. Mrs. Fairfax... Mr. Rocester.... Adele..... each were perfectly cast in my mind and I was certain my husband would later agree.
So, why do I tell you all of this? So you would all feel my utter disappointment as we walked out of the theatre and I said, "Well, what did you think?" And my supposedly literature loving husband sighed and said, "It was fine. You know this was just for you, right? I really just wanted to see Thor."
After Christendom, what?
11 hours ago