I finished The Painted Veil this morning. I have mixed feelings about it. I didn't find it as sad as I had expected it to be. I don't know if I like Walter. I admire his almost inhuman self control, being able to remain polite to the person who broke his heart. But I'm almost sure there must be something wrong with a person like that. And there are hints, no, suggestions of his being ominously dangerous (for lack of a better word -- I'm sure if I were Gen I'd find a better word easily =P). Spoiler ahead. I was certainly disappointed when he died before that darkness in him could come out in full bloom. Although it's scary enough that he was doing all that good for so many people for the wrong reason...A very dark, but vague reason (or maybe I'm just in need of another Literature class to resharpen my eye for such things) I was even more disappointed at how Kitty didn't seem to learn much. I'd give her credit for growing a little from her Mei-tan-fu experience, but it wasn't enough. But then, somehow I can understand her weakness. It seems very human to make the same mistakes twice. (You see now why I'm not sure what I think of this book?) And I absolutely abhor Charles Townsend. I want to chop his head off.

Maybe the reason I don't know how I feel about The Painted Veil is because it did not stir as much emotion in me as, for example, The English Patient had, or as much wonder was American Gods and Stardust had, or as much food for thought as The Unbearable Lightness of Being had. It was certainly subtle about it's message, and maybe I'm not yet mature enough a reader to identify and appreciate what it was trying to say. I'm not sure I'll ever gain that maturity knowing how sporadic my reading habits are.

Right now I feel like I can gobble up any book I can get my hands on. Unfortunately the books I have aren't as interesting as the books my friends, aka. my book sources XD, have. And I'm not yet in that stage where my father's books interest me. I hardly ever read so I don't think I'll ever get to that stage.

I went to Makati yesterday. Stacy, Sig and I visited Selda in their condo to go swimming. XD It was absolutely cold. You wouldn't think it was in the middle of summer at all. Who was it that called the pool water refrigerator water? Which, whenever I thought about it made the water even colder? I think it was Stacy. The pool was on the 7th floor so the wind was everywhere. I didn't know there was a way to feel so chilly in the Philippines in the middle of April.

The place Selda was staying was very pretty. By "place Selda was staying" I mean the tower/building/area/whatever. We never got the chance to take a peak at their actual studio unit because her family was there and her family didn't like showing their place to us. Anyway it's easy to assume that their place is pretty because the building it was in was quite fancy. I'm not sure though about their choice of what Sig called "modern art." At the lobby they had as display a big tin mixing bowl, which to me felt a little out of place and underused (I think it would have made lots of tasty chocolate chip cookies), and a huge glass jar that looked like if it were useful in a sense other than to decorate a fancy, high class condominium, it would be carrying milk in some dairy factory. Maybe the owner of the building was being parsimonious (a new word I learned from The Painted Veil!) about furnishing the lobby.

Anyway, have I mentioned that I also finished this book, Beauty? I think I have. Well anyway, I feel for Beauty. Oddly these past few days I've been feeling very very ugly. Not because of anyone or anything. I hope you don't think it's because of my boyfriend, no. If anything I feel so undeserving of his affection. Even more so now that I don't find myself at all attractive. He even tries to make me feel beautiful, at which, although I appreciate very much and commend him for his ceaseless effort, he is unsuccessful. So I feel like I am Beauty, who cannot at all see anything attractive in herself. The difference is she grew attractive towards the end of the book and certainly realized it. Really something you should expect of a fairy tale. But then I feel left behind.

It's very disappointing how I fuss about such a petty thing as my looks. I am a shallow person, I've realized that since long ago. And I don't think this worry I have for my physical appearance will ever go away. It doesn't feel like it will go away. Maybe the only thing that will make it go away is an enchanted floor-to-ceiling mirror in the Beast's castle. Which, or course, doesn't exist.

Anyway. I still have the courage to wear an old fashioned swim suit in a public place. I guess it's not that bad.

It's funny how many times I edited this post just to change the title. Very random thought.