It is extremely windy here. I'm talking good 15 MPH gusts, enough to blow the head band right out of my hair. On top of that, it's 30 degrees so the wind feels like a million tiny knives stabbing you in the face every time you walk outside. I've taken to being a hermit and snuggling up with my stuffed animals in front of my heater.
It only seemed natural to write about Gone with the Wind today. I have this strange connection to Scarlett O'Hara. Well, I don't know if it's strange, really, it's just a very serious connection. Blah, blah, blah, she's a fictional character, she's not real, how could you feel a connection with a pretend person? I just can, okay.
My grandma owned five movies when we were growing up: Annie, Sound of Music, Gone with the Wind, Little Women, and Mary Poppins. As a result, I've seen each of those movies at least a dozen times. Might I remind you that Gone with the Wind is four hours long. That means I've spent, at the minimum, two full days of my life watching Scarlett O'Hara pine over Ashley Wilkes only to realize that it was Rhett Butler she loved the whole time. I've gotten to know Scarlett a lot during the many, many viewings I've had of the film.
And Rhett Butler with that mustache? Swoon.
When I was 18, Twin and I decided to get sister tattoos. We chose hearts because "they were cute". I got mine on my hip and she got hers on her shoulder. It wasn't my first tattoo so it wasn't that big of a deal to get it, but I always felt bored with it and wanted to add something but never could quite decide what. This summer after a lot of research, I found an artist in Los Angeles who specializes in cover-ups and had her put a poppy on top of my heart. If you look really closely and know it's there, you can just see the outline of the heart, but she worked hard to make it look like a part of the poppy (the middle bud part) so it's not easy to see especially if you're not looking for it. Unknowingly, I had picked out a Scarlett O'Hara poppy. Totally fate, right?
Before I left for China, my grandma gave me an old copy she had of the book. It actually is old. The binding is coming undone, the pages are all tinged yellow from age, it smells like walking down the isles of a library, the price of 95 cents is printed on the front cover.
It was my first time actually reading the book, and it impacted me in a way the movie never did. Granted, I loved the movie, but something really struck home for me when I read the novel. A lot of it had to do with all the changes I was making in my life, mostly moving on both physically and emotionally from things in my past. I started the book on the plane and took my time reading it. I was sort of trying to savor it, for whatever reason.
After I finished, my grandma sent me the sequel, Scarlett, written by a different author. I started it on a Sunday and finished it by Saturday. It's over 800 pages long. I stayed up until 6 AM one night just to finish it. Even though I knew how it would end, I just had to keep going. Now that's it's over, my life feels kind of empty. Like I've lost a friend or something. Maybe I should write part III?