Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Fallacy of Proportion: A Close Reading of the novel Mrs. Dalloway


     To declare that the medical world did not have an astute understanding of mental illnesses during the early twentieth century would be an understatement. Mental illness was often ignored or treated improperly. Prescription drugs were not as advanced as they are now and the drugs that were prescribed for mental illness were usually sedatives to help one rest. In fact, rest was the solution given to many mental illness patients. The idea that resonated in the medical community was that rest was the factor that was missing in the lives of those who suffered from mental illness. The “rest cure” was when someone would be coerced out of their home away from the their loved ones and sent off to a deserted building set aside for rest cure patients in a secluded countryside away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Receiving ample secluded, isolated rest was viewed in the novel Mrs. Dalloway as having a sense of proportion. Proportion or balance in one's life would bring about peace and contentment. The great medical minds of the day decided that those with mental illness would benefit from isolation. Physicians thought and believed with great conviction that the lack of stimulation would promote tranquility of mind and eliminate stress. Unfortunately, all the rest cure did was exacerbate the situation.

     In Mrs. Dalloway, Septimus Warren Smith suffered from a mental illness that the late twentieth century identified as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. However, in the early twentieth century, PTSD was merely shrugged off as shell shock or “moments of depression” as Dr. Sir William Bradshaw described. (97) Septimus suffered from PTSD because he served in World War I and fought on the side of the British. As a young man, he was an educated free thinker. He was self educated due to his poor socioeconomic status but was well read and infatuated with literature and art. He volunteered to fight for England and survived the war. However, his good friend Evans did not survive and because of that, guilt taunted Septimus daily. Flashbacks of the war plagued the mind of Septimus so severely that he would have unexpected outbursts and threaten to kill himself on more than one occasion. Dr. Holmes, Septimus's first doctor, did not appreciate the severity of Septimus's mental state. He simply wrote it off as Septimus being restless or having a bout with anxiety.

     Dr. Holmes examined him. There was nothing whatever the matter, said Dr. Holmes...Why not try two tabloids of bromide dissolved in a glass of water at bedtime? (90)

Instead of trying to empathize and understand the plight of Septimus, Dr. Holmes prescribed a sedative to force rest upon him.

     Dismissing Septimus's mental illness as mere restlessness was not even the worst crime that Dr. Holmes committed against him. Dr. Holmes also spoke to Septimus in a condescending way. He even audaciously spoke of Septimus's mental state as him being “in a funk” (92). Dr. Holmes was arrogant and certain in his misdiagnosis. He held on to his “forty years' experience...and Septimus could take Holmes's word for it.” (92). There were other instances of Dr. Holmes's patronizing demeanor towards Septimus. Another time was when Septimus was having a flashback and began to shout outbursts. When Dr. Holmes arrived in the room, he shrugged off the the outburst by trivializing them.

     “Now what's all this about?” said Dr. Holmes in the most amiable way in the world. “Talking nonsense to frighten your wife?” But he would give him something to make him sleep. (93)

     The condescension occurred not only because Septimus was ill but also because he was poor. As a soldier, he was thrown back into society in the lower class of imperialist England. Dr. Holmes and Sir William Bradshaw were wealthy physicians. Both were of the upper class. However, even within the upper class were areas of discord. Sir William Bradshaw even spoke of Dr. Holmes in a condescending manner.

     Ah yes (those general practitioners! thought Sir William. It took half his time to undo their blunders. Some were irreparable). (95)

Mrs. Dalloway showed that a class struggle was prevalent during the early twentieth century in England. The small percentage of the population who were the elite were in charge of the larger percentage of the population who were the middle and lower classes of the English socioeconomic class system. Dr. Holmes and Sir William Bradshaw were a part of that elite group and Septimus and his wife Lucrezia were members of the larger group, the ailing lower class.

     There were many references to oppression and authoritative control in the novel. The most poignant observations came from the thoughts of Septimus.

Once you fall, Septimus repeated to himself, human nature is on you. Holmes and Bradshaw are on you. (98)

Although Septimus was ill with PTSD, he was still able to form lucid thoughts. One thing he would refuse was the confinement to a home, especially a home ran by Dr. Holmes or Sir William Bradshaw. He did not want to undergo mental and physical subjugation. The thought of being imprisoned in a home under the strict orders of doctors who were cruel to him terrified and angered Septimus. Septimus was not about to acquiesce. Therefore, he did the one act that he could perform that would rebel against them. His suicide was larger than he. It was an act of resistance to a dictating authority, similar to the struggle of oppressed peoples. Septimus represented the other, the oppressed minority fighting against the powers that be, the elite, the colonizers, the conformers, the converters. The doctors represented the manipulative conquering body that sought to conform all nonbelievers to their way of life and trade in their illnessness, their sorrows, their poor socioeconomic conditions for proportion.

     To prescribe isolation to one suffering from mental illness is similar to giving a suicidal man a rope. Many who suffer from mental illness simply want someone to empathize with them, give them a chance to speak freely and candidly about their inner turmoil. The high society elitists were ignorant of these needs and many lives were lost both literally and figuratively. The character of Septimus Warren Smith served as a representation of the traumatized soldier and Drs. Holmes and Bradshaw represented the cruel upper class society who simply wanted to marginalize and ostracize those who suffered even more. Having balance in life does appear right and just, but what balance consists of might vary greatly from person to person. It is accurate to surmise that life's tests can bring about strife, turmoil, heartbreak and anxiety. Although the activities of life might sometimes perpetuate stress, at other times those very things can cause contentment, self appreciation and self awareness.

Works Cited:

Woolf, Virginia Mrs. Dalloway United States:Harcourt, 1925 pages 90-102

Life Goes On: A Close Reading on an Excerpt of The Hours by: Michael Cunningham



Life Goes On: A Close Reading on an Excerpt of The Hours by: Michael Cunningham

The Hours was an amazingly well written novel set in three different decades of the twentieth century: the 1920’s, the 1950’s, and the 1980’s. The novel tells the story of three very different women with similar inner turmoil. The women, Virginia Woolf, Laura Brown, and Clarissa Vaughn, undergo a mental and emotional identity crisis that makes each of them feel a loss of control of their own lives. The novel’s main theme is that life is an overwhelming reality, filled with hours that are dark and unbearable and in order to survive those hours, one must hold on tight to the hours that are happy, satisfying, delicious, or just bearable. If one does not accomplish this, one will feel isolated, alone, suffocated, and dead internally. This theme is portrayed effectively in the excerpt I have chosen to write about. The excerpt I chose was from the top of page 196 to the top of 200. The excerpt is the dialogue exchange between Clarissa and Richard before he commits suicide.

The tension is pronounced in the first paragraph of this section, particularly in the description of Richard. He is described as both “insane and exalted, both ancient and childish…like some scarecrow equestrian, a park statue by Giacometti.” (196) Opposition is clearly at work early in this passage. Richard appears to have gone crazy, yet he looks exalted, as if regal. He looks as if he is old yet acting in a childlike manner. In the same paragraph it goes on to speak on his appearance: his hair “plastered to his scalp in some places, jutting out a sharp, rakish angles in others” (196) and his leg is described as “blue-white” and “skeletal.” (196)There is also tension between the two characters, Clarissa and Richard. Richard feels high both literally and figuratively, and exhilarated, and Clarissa feels low, terrified, yet not hysterical.

The word choices in this section are fantastic. The description of Richard in his hallucinated state and ragged, infirm body, paints a colorful picture. However, the description of Clarissa gives an oppositional account. Instead of Clarissa being deranged and high, she is unusually calm, as if “removed from herself, from the room, as if witnessing something that’s already happened.” (197)This particular description of Clarissa is a recurring theme in the entire novel. All three women, at one moment or another, feel like they are removed from their reality. They feel as if they are just going through life without any control, like being swept away by a current.

Richard also feels like he has lost control of his life. He feels that he is going through the motions of life. The AIDS that is killing him is making him endure what he calls “the hours.” After he tells Clarissa that he does not think he can make it to the party and Clarissa tells him he does not have to go or do anything at all, he responds by saying:

But there are still the hours, aren’t there? One and then another, and you get through that one and then, my god, there’s another. I’m so sick.” (198)

For Richard, life has become excruciating, especially physically and emotionally.

The text does a wonderful job detailing Richard’s physical pain and anguish. However, on page 199, his emotional and mental anxiety is illuminated. He speaks of failing, another recurring theme in the novel. All three characters feel that they have failed at their life’s calling. When Clarissa tries to assure him that he has not failed, he does not endorse it. He reveals in the last paragraph on page 199 the following inner turmoil:

What I wanted to do seemed simple. I wanted to create something alive and shocking enough that it could stand beside a morning in somebody’s life…What foolishness.” (199)

After a few more sentences of dialogue, Richard tells Clarissa he loves her then he makes that fateful jump out of the window.

This excerpt from The Hours undoubtedly supports the themes that resonate so profoundly in the entire novel. Life, although unbearable and painful at times, goes on even after we die. The fact is, life does not stop for anyone else or for anything else, just for the person who has died. The feeling of failure and loss of control can be so overwhelming at times, that for some, it is easier or less painful to end one’s own life then to live their life on someone else’s terms. The Hours really conveys the message that one should embrace life and all its loveliness and all its darkness and appreciate the oppositional contradiction that is life. The hours can be a constant reminder of the inevitable end or a warm reminder of new memories that await us in this life.











Works Cited:

Cunningham, Michael The Hours New York: Picador, 1998

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Religion: An Oppressor or Liberator? A Marxist analytical approach to the short story, “Sweat”

     The short story “Sweat” was written and set during post-slavery 1920s.  Historically, the 1920s were a turbulent and troublesome time for African Americans living in the United States.  Although blacks were no longer slaves, they still had oppressive holds upon them, especially social and economic oppression.  The socioeconomic status of blacks was anything but ideal: lower class, poor, uneducated, segregated, marginalized, disenfranchised, and mistreated.  The average black person made a living by working for an affluent white family and receiving very little pay.  In most cases, the money received was barely enough to purchase food.  Because of this harsh reality, many blacks turned to religion to cope with their gruesome and oftentimes, unbearable existence.  The main character, Delia, uses religion to cope with her harsh socioeconomic conditions as well as her unhealthy, abusive, and tumultuous marriage to her husband Sykes. 
           
     Although Marxist theory normally bashes organized religion by calling it the “opiate of the masses”, in this story, religion is seen as both the oppressor and the liberator.  Christianity was used during colonization as justification by white Europeans to enslave, control and abuse African slaves, poor whites, and Native Americans as well as other minorities.  White owners converted many of their slaves to Christianity in order to assimilate them to the normal European social and religious order.  Many slaves began to abandon their own cultural traditions and take on the European Christianity in order to deal with being abused and overworked by their white owners, their oppressor.  Similarly, Delia uses religion to deal with her oppressors, the white family that employs her yet pays her very little, and more importantly, her negligent and destructive husband Sykes, who is her ultimate oppressor.  This fact is evident in the following text:
     “Oh well, whatever goes over the Devil’s back, is got to come under his belly.  Sometime or ruther, Sykes, like everybody else, is gointer reap his sowing.”  After that she was able to build a spiritual earthworks against her husband.  His shells could no longer hurt her. Amen.” (76)

Because of her faith, she felt at peace with the fact that Sykes mistreatment of her would not go unpunished so she decided to allow his inconsiderate words and actions to continue because she was no longer going to be bothered by it. She had “a triumphant indifference to all that he was or did.” (76) 

Delia used her religion as a coping mechanism in many instances, including when Sykes ridiculed her for sorting the white family’s laundry on the Sabbath.  She did not want to bicker with him because she “just come from taking sacrament at the church house.” (74)  In this instance, Delia used the sacrament to justify her nonchalance versus Sykes incessant derision.  Another instance was when she hitched her horse and drove to Woodbridge, the church she transferred her membership to so she did not have to take sacrament with Sykes anymore.  Prior to that, she had an argument with Sykes, which would be her last.  She expressed her hatred for him and threatened to tell the “white folks” next time he abused her.  With her emotions in a whirlwind, she calmly sang a church hymn to ease her mind and free her from any hurt or pain:

Jurden water, black an’ col’, chills de body, not de soul, An’ Ah wantah cross Jurden in uh calm time. (82)

After singing that song, she felt relieved once again and also comforted that even though her marriage was dissolving before her very eyes, that God would give her peace. 

            The ultimate liberation came when she confronted the snake.  In most religions, especially Christianity, the snake has many symbolic meanings.  The most obvious symbolism would be that of danger or evil.  This is especially so for Delia because she is terrified of snakes.  It is the one thing in the world that scares her deeply.  She confessed her fear of the snake many times to Sykes asking him to either kill it or get rid of it because it was making her physically ill. “But you done kilt all mah insides bringin’ dat varmint heah.” (81)  However, it is when she comes home from the church in Woodbridge that she reaches her highest level of liberation.  When she realized the snake was not only still in her home, but in her bedroom, her most prized sanctuary, she has a real breakthrough.  The first thing she does is scream in terror then she leaves the room and takes refuge in a hay barn.  While she is there, she has an epiphany of sorts.  She realized while lying in the hay barn that she must confront her fear, the snake, which for her meant confronting her fear of Sykes and his oppressive power over her while simultaneously embracing the power she had within all along. 
      Finally she grew quiet, and after that, coherent thought.  With this, stalked through her a cold, bloody rage.  Hours of this.  A period of introspection, a space of retrospection, then a mixture of both.  Out of this an awful calm.  (83)

The snake was no longer her biggest fear, but her source of empowerment.  The snake no longer represented fear or evil, but eye opening knowledge.  Just  like the serpent in the garden of Eden, the snake revealed to Delia her nakedness, or vulnerability.  He made her aware of her oppression.  

After her epiphany, she fell asleep, and was no longer affected by the fear that used to cripple her.  Since she was no longer afraid of the snake, she was able to draw from it an inner strength.   When Sykes is bitten by the snake, she takes on the characteristics of the snake: selfish indifference.  She does not save Sykes because she knew that one day he would reap what he sowed and today was the fateful day.  Just like a snake poisons his victim then watches it die before it is devoured, so does Delia sting Sykes with her stare, almost mocking him:
.               “She waited in the growing heat while inside she knew the cold river was creeping up and up to extinguish that eye which must know by now that she knew.”  (85)

Conclusively, the use of religion by a person can be oppressive at times and liberating at times.  During difficult times, religion can be used to numb someone from their punishing circumstances like a tranquilizer.  In other instances, religion is essential to help the socioeconomically oppressed survive their state of being by believing in Heaven, or a place where justice and peace flow like a river. There were many Marxist theoretical concepts evidenced in “Sweat” that were not covered in this essay.  However, through further literary interpretation utilizing a Marxist analytical lens, “Sweat” can be appreciated for what it is: a mirror image of the proletariat rising up against the domineering elite and taking charge of its own destiny; an ideal condition achieved in rare situations in reality but attainable in any and all circumstances in a flawless utopia guided by Marxist principles.


Works Cited:
Hurston, Zora Neale. “Sweat” Harper Perennial.

           
           

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

My song entitled: Make Better Decisions

I wrote this song when I was fourteen years old. Aww, memories. I was inspired to write this song because of the song "That Thing" by Lauryn Hill. I wish she was still writing/singing/rapping. She was way ahead of her time. Enjoy!
                                                     Make Better Decisions


It doesn’t hurt that bad, that’s what they say
And from the experience I’ve had, it’s not that way
They just wanna hit, don’t you see?
Don’t settle for a little bit
There’s a lot more for you and me

Chorus
Make better decisions baby girl
Cause you’re in no position to bring a child in this world
You’ll bring division in your home
And you don’t wanna be left alone

Don’t sell your soul for sex it leads to Hell
Always plan your next step don’t plan to fail
Listen to what I say because it’s true
These little boys don’t care a thing about you

Chorus

My poem entitled: Reflection

I wrote this poem when I was about six months pregnant with my firstborn son, Micah. Enjoy. I still love this poem dearly!


Reflection

I see my reflection in you
You’re so beautiful
My baby boy
You bring me so much joy

A baby!
Who would have thought that someone who was just figuring out how to become a woman is now having a baby?
Here you come without warning
Putting me through pleasure and pain
Making me eat everything in sight
And making me gain weight

So long to all of my futures plans
I guess now I have to share those plans with you
Of course, we can’t leave Daddy out, now can we?
Do you see him crying? 
He said he wouldn’t cry
But look at you
You ARE beautiful
You’re a miracle, just like a ray of sunshine

I see my reflection in you
You’re so beautiful
My baby boy
You bring me so much joy

Tell me, what was it like talking to God?
Did you choose me to be your mommy?
Did God approve of me?
Well, whatever the case may be
You’re here now
And I’m so proud
We’re so proud

I see my reflection in you
You’re so beautiful
My baby boy
You bring me so much joy




My poem entitled: Welcome to my World

This poem is a little flirtatious, confident, and even a little empowering.


Welcome to My World

In a world that’s constantly changing
Meet someone who is constant
I know what you’re thinking
What makes me special?
The way I talk
The way I dress
The way I carry myself
Perhaps, it is what I wear
Or how I do my hair

The truth is, I’m a step above anything you’ve ever experienced
Anything you’ve ever known
Any woman you’ve ever seen
Beauty, sensuality, compassion, sophistication
All of that is me
Combine deep brown eyes, full lips, intellect, and charm
Don’t you want me on your arm?

I’m not a dream or fantasy
This is not a façade or mirage
I am a part of the most elite group of women to walk this Earth
I am a woman who knows who she is: nobility
So bow down, boy
I may be tangible, but can you catch me?

My poem entitled: Take it Away

Take it Away

Can you take it away?
All of this pain I feel inside
Please remove any emotion that interferes with Your peace in my life
Although I’ll never understand why pain is so necessary
But I know that I need to change my ways and carry
Everything to you in prayer
So I meet you half-way, will you be there?

Can you take it away?
I don’t care anymore what You need to do
Can I lift my burdens off my shoulders and lay them at Your feet?
I refuse to accept defeat
Dear Lord, please take all of this pain
Take it all away
Didn’t Jesus bear my pain?
Isn’t His loss of human life my gain?
Take it away

My song entitled: I'm Your Mommy Now

I wrote this song when I was pregnant with Micah back in 2005. I still get teary eyed when I sing this one. Enjoy! :)


I’m Your Mommy Now

I don’t know what to do
But God has given me you
You have taken me by surprise
I can’t believe this is true
It’s a huge responsibility
And I don’t have it all together
But I’m giving you all of me
And we’ll figure this out together

I’m your mommy now
And we will make it somehow
Please, if you can hear my voice, I’m so sincere
I’m not going anywhere, I’ll always be here

I just want to apologize, sometimes me and Daddy fight
I’ll try my best not to cry so you don’t feel my pain inside
I promise Daddy and me will work this out
It will always be he and me and you
We might be poor in wealth but we’re rich in love
And we’ll do whatever we have to do for you

I wish we could have planned you
God knows you deserve a better me
But when you’re older you’ll understand
That it’s hard but I’m trying and he’s trying
We’re trying

I’m your mommy now
And we will make it somehow
Please, if you hear my voice, I’m so sincere
I’m not going anywhere, I’ll always be here

My song entitled: Enough

Enough

What does she do that I don’t do?
Whatever it is is it enough?
Is it enough to throw away these years with me down the drain?
Young love, that’s what people would say
They said we wouldn’t make it past the first day
But now I’m thinking that it could’ve been true
I’m starting to suspect that I’m just not enough for you

What does she say, what does she do?
Tell me baby, is it enough?
And if so, just let me know, so I can go
Cause I’ve had enough

What does she say that I don’t say?
Tell me baby, is it enough?
Sneaking around and making up lies
Is it because you want to tell me good-bye?
If that’s the case, be on your way!
There are no hard feelings, I promise babe!
Do me this one thing: make her happy
Don’t you dare hurt her the way you hurt me

What does she say, what does she do?
Tell me baby, is it enough?
And if so, just let me know, so I can go
Cause I’ve had enough

My Untitled Limericks I, II, and III

I had to write limericks as an assignment for a creative writing class I had in 2005. These are goofy and silly at best but enjoy them anyway! LOL :)



Limerick I

There was a young girl with a fro
Who wanted to be in a show
To New York she went
And met 50 Cent
And became his video ho

Limerick II

I knew a young man with a beard
Who looked kind of funny and weird
But I gave him a chance
For naughty romance
And it was as bad as I feared

Limerick III

I used to love coffee and tea
But now I know it’s not for me
Because I am mean
With too much caffeine
And it gives me a lot of acne!

My poem entitled: Lucky, Little Girl

Lucky, Little Girl

Lucky you, little girl
You’re so blessed to be young
What I wouldn’t give to be you
So innocent and dumb

As I’m shooting this photo
Your face is ever glowing
I guess that’s the beauty
The beauty of not-knowing

Your mother and your father
Are in pain and need help
Isn’t innocence bliss?
You only think of yourself

Your parents don’t get along
They fight and they cry
But you’re not aware of it
You don’t care to know why

It hurts me to look at them
You’re the only happy child
Your brother and sister know the deal
As they plaster on phony smiles

So say cheese cutie pie
Share your innocence with the world
Enjoy your ignorance while you can
You lucky, little girl

My poem entitled: The Purse

This poem is loosely based on a true life experience.  Comment and enjoy!


The Purse
                                                                               
As I sit in silence and wait for the nurse
My legs stick together like two wet stamps
Tears fall down my eyes to make me feel worse
Why couldn’t I just carry a purse?

My mother used to carry a big brown one
It was filled with candy and gum and money
She could always make an awkward moment feel fun
Where is a girl’s mom when she needs one?

Everyone says that I’m a child already grown
But I still like Barney and Sesame Street
It’s not like I’m ready to live away from home
Though my body is making changes of its own

Couldn’t somebody, anybody warned me of this?
Of this red river streaming steadily down my thigh
Why isn’t my mom here to explain this?
Why must a girl even go through this?

The nurse finally arrives with my dad
Whose face appears to smile or laugh, I can’t tell
The nurse assures me that I shouldn’t feel bad
She wipes my tears and gives me this pink pad

I’m not even sure if I should feel hurt
After all growing up is just a part of life
My innocence this cloud called puberty did curse
Why couldn’t I just carry a purse? 

My poem entitled: Deadbeat

Warning: Mature Content
I wrote this poem for a creative writing class I had in 2005. This poem is fictional and not based on a real life experience. Comments welcomed and enjoy!


Dead Beat

Tell the children to stop crying and screaming
You’re not dying
You’re not even hurt
You’re only sobbing for show

Your questions pierce my pride like a knife
 “Where have you been?” “Who is she?” “Why don’t you love me?”
And you wonder why I do these things to you
I don’t owe you a damn thing
And you judge me like you’re God

I beat you, like to you, cheat on you, and I drink all our money away
Yet you’re still here pestering me like some stray dog that I should have never fed
Your children are so annoying
I don’t love them, I barely love you
Their own father hates them, but he probably hated you more
As do I

What about my needs?
I’m still young and handsome
When other women smile at me, I hurt
Because I know deep down inside they know that I deserve better than you
But yet I’m stuck with you like some incurable disease

But you won’t ever leave me
I’m your medicine
You’re used to me
You must love the taste of your own blood in your mouth
Or is it that you love me more than you love yourself?

My poem entitled: Talk to Me

Warning: This poem has mature content. I wrote this for a poetry class I was enrolled in 2005. Please enjoy and comment away!


Talk to Me

Do you notice me when I’m crying in my sleep?
Is it becoming too much to see?
I guess love is just a word that can be thrown in the air
Or maybe you just don’t care

I don’t understand why you’re being so hard to persuade
You’re cold as ice
Your love is changing
I feel like running away

When I see you, all I see is you hiding from me
Frustration sinking in and anger is steadily building up
You don’t want to know the things my heart and mind are telling me
I can’t wait to get you alone so I can sit you down

And tell you all the things on my heart
I don’t us to be apart
But separation is inevitable
Yes, even though the sex is incredible
Is isn’t enough
I need love
I need YOUR love

Stop looking away from me
Don’t make me stand in front of the TV
Dammit, look at me!

I can’t take it anymore!
I’m throwing your things on the floor!
I’m so sick of your nonchalance
I think it’s time I finally evened out the score
I’m so tired of your shit, so I’m out the door

WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME!

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Introduction

Thank you for taking time out of your busy life to read my literary blog. I am a wife, mother, and senior in college, so I can definitely relate to having a hectic lifestyle. This blog will be strictly for posting my literary criticisms, my poems, short stories, essays, and songs. I hope to get some feedback both positive and constructive. If you love food, please visit my other blog at www.fallonlovewithfood.blogspot.com. No, it is not  a typo. It does say, fall "on" love with food. There's a perfectly good explanation for that. Fall "in" love with food as a URL address was taken. Anyway, thank you for your support for both blogs. I will try to reply to comments with a 24/48 hour window. Thank you all again. Happy reading! :)