How to buy milk without contact lenses

I have some kind of eye allergies and so I had to remove my contact lenses earlier that evening and my only pair of glasses broke sometime ago. I am not blind without my lenses, but vision is compromised, a little.

At about 9:30pm I realize that there is not enough milk for the next morning. I stand in front of the refrigerator and contemplate if I should wear my lens and drive with itchy eyes or simply drive without them. I decide to take the chance and drive without them. I hurry out of the kitchen door into the garage. Climb into the car and back out of the driveway and go on my way. It is not that bad. I drive a little slow to give myself more reaction time.

All through the drive I keep thinking - this is illegal for me to do since my license specifically says that I have to wear correction lenses to drive. And if something goes wrong, the insurance company won't pay because I was violating a pre-requisite. Regular late night paranoia. All for a couple of gallons of milk.

Then I notice how the street lights streak out due to my astigmatism. I count a few lights of diminishing size where there is supposed to be one and feel a little blurry eyed after staring at the traffic light. Somehow the streaking is absent with the traffic light. I reach Walgreen's, get milk and drive back a little more confident with my diminished vision.

I reach home and feel a little triumphant about my adventure.

The next morning, while I am getting ready to chauffeur the kid to swimming class, I realize the kid's booster seat is missing. The last I saw, it was on top of the car. I was supposed to put it in the car the previous evening. Before I drove to get milk, without my contact lenses.

Conclusion: I cannot see the booster seat sitting on top of the car without my contact lenses. And couple of gallons of milk cost $24.73 when you do things my way.

Loving Frank - Nancy Horan

Historical fiction should be good at two things - history and story telling. This book fails in both these aspects. It is based on the life of renowned architect Frank Lloyd Wright's life and his adulterous relationship with Mamah Cheney. The novel doesn't add much to the entry on Wright's wikipedia page.

The story is based in the early 1900s. The book fails within the first few pages to take the reader to that era. There are a lot of 21st century womens' views thrust upon the protagonist placed in the early 20th century. The characters are all one-dimensional and it seems more of an insult to the lives they lived rather than a tribute. The brilliance that Wright was, is never highlighted in the entire book.

A lot of times authors believe that infidelity has to have its reasons and/or be justified and eventually the perpetrators should somehow be punished for their misgivings. I hate this premise. Political correctness should not be in the forefront and diminish fictional portrayal of people that once lived into cartoons. That is what has happened to Mamah Cheney and Frank Wright in this novel.

A mediocre novel it is.

Apparently there is a Greek Orthodox Church here in Milwaukee which was designed by Frank Wright. One of these days, I am going to drive and take a look. Hopefully, the visual treat will help me to get over the novel.

The Bell Jar - Slyvia Plath

What begins as a tale about very prevalent early-twenties-angst, turns out to be a first person narrative of Ester Greenwood's emotional breakdown over a six month period. The transition from angst to breakdown takes place in layers. The narrative changes according to the stage of breakdown. It progresses from Esther's ability to articulate her feelings beautifully, with a lot of cynicism, to a depressive woman's lopsided world view.

Sylvia Plath based Esther Greenwood's character on her own experiences as a successful student who succumbed to depression, attempted suicide a number of times and later on recovered in an asylum. Esther at the asylum feels like she is stuffed in a Bell Jar breathing her own sour air all the time. Once she recovers she feels the Bell Jar lifting off and freeing her of the sour air. But she does worry if it would later on come back to confine her again.

In real life Sylvia Plath committed suicide in her early thirties by shoving her head in to a gas oven with the gas turned on. The book is a journey into the mind of Plath herself. There is no heart wrenching sadness, which I think is an overrated emotion. The book is what it is because of the way Plath perceives life. This cannot come out of someone's imagination, even if ample research feeds such an imagination.

Truly, a wonderful book.

My Name is Red - Orhan Pamuk

I was telling a friend how slow and heavy the writing style was and she said "You should read fiction for pleasure, Sowmya. Not to tire yourself". Until then I was reading the book. After that I cheated. I skimmed and skipped. I read it. I finished. I am done.

Turkish is probably a language that makes such elaborate prose writing style, I am assuming, effortless. The translation turns out to be burdensome. The story line is short and simple. The background, philosophy and characters are fascinating. The narrative is very novel with every chapter being narrated in the first person by a different character. "Weaving a story" takes up a whole new dimension in this book.

I like books that are a fast read and this was so not one. I have nothing against the book, only against myself for not being able to read the book completely. If I pick up the book again, it'll feel so much like failing a class and repeating it all over again. Very humiliating. Therefore I will not be reading Orhan Pamuk again, until I grow much older.

Last post on Nora Roberts, I promise.

I read three books in two weeks. Overkill, so I have to unload.

The books are all written to a formula: The woman - self made woman or a struggling entrepreneur, has inherited property from grandmother. The mother usually is the one who has driven her to therapy. She has a few skeletons in her closet and is definitely not looking for love at the beginning of the story. The man - the most charming, understanding, always-saying-the-right-thing kinda man. There is really nothing to dislike, at the same time not puke worthy. That is the skill Roberts wields.

Some sundry characters to fill the town. Most of the stories are based in small towns. The woman usually is new to town and the man a local. There is murder that usually pops up within 100 pages, so the sex doesn't happen until the 220 page mark. After which, events are built to alternate between murder investigation and lust turning into love.

All this sounds very trite, but Nora is talented. She gets one hooked into the story within the first few pages. The plot is very simple. I like the research she does to build her characters. That is where the stereotyped characters gain individuality. There is detail that makes the character unique and interesting. The story telling at times could be more crisp, but I am usually forgiving because I like the story.

Here is a recent list of books that I read

Northern Lights
Tribute
Homeport
Angels Fall
Carolina Moon
High Noon
Carnal Innocence

Hopefully, I'll end my Nora Roberts spree with this. I have Orhan Pamuk's "My name is red" that I must read now.