Random: Being an Old Hag, Blogs and The Boy With the Cuckoo-Clock Heart

A BIT OF WHINING AND APPRECIATION FROM THE SICKBED

Thank you for the well-wishes. Much appreciated. I’m getting better, day by day. Yay. It’s still odd how easily tired I can get after focussing on something for an hour or so. Even just reading. This floors me the most, actually. I still have to remember it takes time, but it’s tough for impatient people like me. Actually, I’m quite shocked at how slow the recovery is.

I did pretty much nothing but sleep, read, watch, chat with the mites, sleep, watch, sleep, read, play with the mites, etc. Sleep dominated the last two weeks. It’s rather odd, to be honest, to realise how much we depend on lungs. I was moronic enough not to see how much impact it could have on one’s health. It’s increased my awareness what it must have been like for the others who suffer from this almost all their lives.

I admit I used to wonder why couldn’t they just go out and enjoy fresh air and blah blah. Now I know. A simple walk can take a lot out of a person. Last Monday, I walked to a tube station to see my older brother off and walked back home. Then I was fast asleep in an armchair ten minutes later. I love the mites but being with this pair of energy balls can be so exhausting, which is quite mortifying.  Anyroad, I’ll have a check-up this Monday and I expect an all-clear.

BLOG WORLD

Although I’m easily tired, I’m so bored. Bored with four bedroom walls, the bed and all. Sleep bores me. Restrictions bore me. I miss Twitter like hell. At my request, Will changed the password. We  know I’d chat too long on it. I’ll learn the password this Monday after the check-up. Yay.

Being a lurker on most blogs is really interesting and refreshing. It also confirms what I suspected for years: I love, worship and adore blog respondents, whether I agree with their opinions or not (or indeed, regardless how much they piss me off). It’s the biggest attraction for me on the blog scene.

It still doesn’t mean I avoid blogs with little or no response, though. I particularly like blogs that publish posts where they ponder about all sorts. It’s interesting to note I don’t pay much attention to reviews-only blogs, though. I seem to be more attracted to editorial blogs than review blogs, which is interesting.

It’s also interesting to see how the frequency of posts from certain sites affects my patience. Some post too many per day (there is a blog that posts four posts per day every day). I eventually realised I prefer blogs that post once per day (e.g. one review per day and one editorial per day), or post once or twice per week. Basically, it’s the quality that counts, not the quantity.

I also noticed I prefer reading these posts through Google Reader. I really don’t like having to visit the actual blogs. I only do when I’m keen on reading responses to certain posts. I am not sure what to make of this, to be honest. I think it’s because so many blogs are too cluttered for my taste. Such as a sidebar or two that is crammed with book covers, ads, widgets, memes, share icons (Twitter, Facebook, etc.) and so on. Too visually noisy and occasionally, it slows the loading time down.

I have developed a hatred for the share-the-love bar at bottom. You know, it pops up with a row of offerings – subscribe to different sites, share through Twitter, Facebook and whatnot, and blah blah. It really slows the loading time down. I get irritated and impatient enough to say fuck you and leave. I used to visit The Huffington Post quite a bit, but its pop-up bar irritated me so much that I stopped visiting. I avoid review blogs with this share-the-love bar, too.

Heh. It seems I prefer simplicity.

BOOK: THE BOY WITH THE CUCKOO-CLOCK HEART
Some time ago, I bought a print copy after reading a few reviews about this book. I’m lazy enough to use the official blurb:
“FIRSTLY: don’t touch the hands of your cuckoo-clock heart. SECONDLY: master your anger. THIRDLY: never, ever fall in love. For if you do, the hour hand will poke through your skin, your bones will shatter, and your heart will break once more.

Edinburgh, 1874. Born with a frozen heart, Jack is near death when his mother abandons him to the care of Dr. Madeleine—witch doctor, midwife, protector of orphans—who saves Jack by placing a cuckoo clock in his chest. And it is in her orphanage that Jack grows up among tear-filled flasks, eggs containing memories, and a man with a musical spine.

As Jack gets older, Dr. Madeleine warns him that his heart is too fragile for strong emotions: he must never, ever fall in love. And, of course, this is exactly what he does: on his tenth birthday and with head-over-heels abandon. The object of his ardour is Miss Acacia—a bespectacled young street performer with a soul-stirring voice. But now Jacks life is doubly at risk—his heart is in danger and so is his safety after he injures the school bully in a fight for the affections of the beautiful singer.

Now begins a journey of escape and pursuit, from Edinburgh to Paris to Miss Acacias home in Andalusia. Mathias Malzieus’s The Boy with the Cuckoo-Clock Heart is a fantastical, wildly inventive tale of love and heartbreak—by turns poignant and funny—in which Jack finally learns the great joys, and ultimately the greater costs, of owning a fully formed heart.”

I didn’t realise how slim the volume was. Only about 170 pages. I still didn’t get to read it until this morning. I woke up at dawn and wandered over to a book case. I spotted this book and decided to read it. Took me only an hour. I didn’t realise how pervy it can be. I’m not sure whether it was my mind in the gutter, or it was intended to be interpreted that way. It’s an adult fairy tale without graphic details. Miss Acaica gets to fellate the cogs of his heart, for instance.

I have mixed feelings towards the book. It’s simple, lyrical and a bit melodramatic, along with dark undercurrents. In a way it reminds me of Oscar Wilde’s The Little Prince. Actually, I desperately want to write a review of this, but I’m too lazy and tired to even try. It’s embarrassing, really. Perhaps I will later when I’m not such a moody cow. Has anyone read this? Opinions?

Here’s an official trailer of The Boy With the Cuckoo-Clock Heart: