We're supposed to compare and contrast Edgar Allan Poe and Ernest Hemingway.
I title my paper "The Crackhead and the Suicidal Alkie." Mr Slater looks over my shoulder, wheezes through his chin-length nose hair and tells me, "That won't do."
Please keep your thong in your pants. It's not sexy. It's not cute. It's underwear. To be worn under. You want to accessorize an outfit, get new shoes.
On Sex Ed:
Is there anything worse than sex ed teachers who haven't had any since Truman was president? Plausibility, people, please! Last year, Mr. Fritz subbed on the day they talked to us about sexually transmitted diseases and he called them "Steds" the whole time. It's hard to take sex ed seriously when the teachers haven't even wiggled their stuff in this millennium.
Yes, it's funny. But it has never taken me this long to read a Pink Book. Never, ever.
I started it last week and just barely finished it this morning -- not because I didn't enjoy it, but because something kept misfiring in my brain that prevented me from remembering anything I'd previously read. Seriously -- I would pick it up, flip to my bookmark, and be clueless as to what was happening. I read the first fifty pages three times. THREE TIMES.
It might be because it isn't really a plot-driven book. But the thing is, it's not really character driven, either -- Gert doesn't really change that much over the course of her 300 pages. She figures out masturbation and eyebrow plucking, but that's about it.
The story is mostly episodic, and the narrative is interspersed with Gert's Rant and Rave essays. She's a sophomore. Her best friend, Adam, is gay and just beginning to figure out a new (his first) relationship. So she's feeling some jealousy about his divided attention, while also carrying a few of her own crushes. Gert was a "surprise" baby -- her mother was 45 and her father was 60 when they found out they were going to have another child -- and because of that, she feels that she's mostly on her own when it comes to questions about sex and just... socializing.
So, yeah. As I said, some of it is really funny -- I laughed out loud a few times -- but it's pretty uneven, and overall, not particularly memorable.
She's penned a book aimed at helping young girls survive—and even thrive—in math class. "When girls see the antics of Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan, they think that being fun and glamorous also means being dumb and irresponsible," says McKellar. "But I want to show them that being smart is cool. Being good at math is cool. And not only that, it can help them get what they want out of life."
Any jab at PH or LiLo is fine by me. Good show, Danica.
While the book sounds a bit girly for my tastes, it sounds a whole lot more fun than the usual celebrity literary offering. It's called Math Doesn't Suck.
It's not attractive for girls to sweat, though a nice glow is considered wholesome. Be careful then not to over exert yourself, particularly when playing mixed doubles at tennis. Men feel terribly inadequate if you are better than them, so remember to hit the ball out from time to time and praise your partner after every point. Do not be governed by stereotypes. You can get as much out of a game of cricket as a man. More so, if you are making the tea.
Oh dear. Now I have to read it.
I do love the Digested Read Series, even when they mock a book I enjoyed. (Because, you know. I'm a big person.)
What's great about [The Stranger's last monologue] is how it says it all without really saying anything. Maybe that's one reason people dig the movie and are able to watch it over and over again. It's like picking up a kaleidoscope. You see something new each time.
This was a good one. Not only a mysterious prisoner in a tower room, but eeeeevil foster parents, a family feud, lots and lots of treasure in secret compartments, a lost child, a kidnapping, the most ridiculous family reunion/reconciliation session EVER, and more:
The frontispiece alone makes it worthwhile. The caption reads: "Mr. Drew reached out to rescue Nancy" and the picture shows Nancy dangling out of a tower window above a falling ladder and Carson heroically catching her. It you look closely at the illustration, it actually looks like Carson Drew has an Amazing Magnet Hand, because his hand isn't gripping Nancy's shoulder at all -- it's just resting on top of it.
Actually, for Carson's Amazing Magnet Hand to work, our girl would have to have an Amazing Bionic Shoulder. I'm okay with believing that, as there weren't any new skills listed.
Basic plot, from page one: "The three friends were headed for a secluded inn called The Sign of the Twisted Candles. The Marvin family and the Faynes were related to a very old man who lived there. Rumors had recently come from neighbors of theirs who had overheard a conversation at the inn that he was virtually a prisoner in the tower of the old-fashioned mansion."
So the Fayne and Marvin adults don't bother to check out the rumors. No, the girls go. The adults in this series -- discounting Carson, of course -- are the most unmotivated people EVER. Yet again, a crime is committed in Hannah Gruen's presence and her solution is to call Nancy (who is out of town) rather than bother calling the (admittedly useless) police. Also, the same security guard gets knocked out at least twice.
The story begins with the girls (big shock coming up) driving through the obligatory terrible storm. They (again, big shock) have to get out and walk when a tree falls across the road. Later, the storm also causes the obligatory disconnected phone call scene.
More ways to spot villains: thin lips, heavy-set, balding, purring voice.
Nancy's excellent undercover skills continue:
When she remained silent, Nancy said, "I'm Nancy Drew. These are my friends Bess Marvin and George Fayne." On purpose she slurred the last names so the girl would not repeat them.
And her impressive ability to read people:
Asa Sidney gave a mirthless laugh. "The only reason I have lived to be a hundred is because I have not died!"
Nancy shuddered a little. Plainly Mr. Sidney was far from happy.
And her excellent sleuthing skills:
The man looked about him, studied the windows of the house carefully, and then began to dig quickly.
"He's going to bury something!" Nancy speculated.
I have to admit, though, the next bit made me want to cheer -- after seeing Mr. Jemitt bury the chest, Nancy sneaks outside, digs the chest up, drags it to her car, brings it to the bank (surviving the obligatory car chase on the way) and deposits it into the vault. Because, you know. You gotta keep yer clues safe.
As gorgeous and unforgettable as Nancy Drew is supposed to be, she sure has a lot of doubles -- when she walks into the tower room, the 100-year-old prisoner thinks she's his dead wife.
A restaurant that has bells on the tables to signal waitstaff? Is that a Before My Time thing, or am I going to the wrong restaurants?
I never thought I'd see the day where the chums split up. Page 22 is the first time Bess and George learn of the feud between Asa Sidney and their families. By page 71, they both hate Nancy because they're convinced that she and her father are trying to bilk them out of an inheritance.
Bess didn't go too food-crazy this time. There was only a cinnamon toast incident, and this (which I loved):
All drained their glasses of fruit punch, Bess looking wistfully at the maraschino cherry which obstinately remained in the bottom of her glass.
Nancy gets physical:
Nancy was in a quandary. She knew her father would never touch the woman. If Mrs. Jemitt was to be forcibly removed from the stairway, she would have to do it!
With the speed of a panther Nancy grabbed Mrs. Jemitt's arms and swung her around out of the way.
Later, Mrs. Jemitt retaliates by attempting to beat Nancy with a hairbrush! Good times.
I, also, find these to be attractive qualities in a person:
"I love old Mr. Sidney. He's so friendless and pathetic."
I'm running out of time here, but seriously. This one is AWESOME.