I finished Wolves in Chic Clothing and The Journal of Mortifying Moments. I know they count towards the final number of books I've read this year, but it's like reading air, there's almost no substance although they do keep you going. They're both terrifyingly predictable, but at least the JMM had some cute segments about the main character, Kerry's, most embarrassing moments—and believe you me, I could relate.
Ahem, I once asked my grade school almost-boyfriend if he liked reading Agatha Christie (because he was really a fifty year-old housewife?), tripped and/or dropped something whenever I saw him or he walked by (including a total face/nose plant over a chained driveway on the way home as I tried to act cool), and this coming from a ballet dancer, and then convinced myself that he liked this girl Kathryn who totally tried to steal him from me and then he moved away thinking I was a total freak.
Oh boy, did I just say all that out loud?
Jason Hughes, if you're out there, I did like you when we were in Grade 8, and I was kind of a freak, but you can't blame me, I was "creative." Heh.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
My Boy is Ten
My friend Heather took this photo a couple of weekends ago. We went for a walk in the woods. It was a bit cold at first, neither my boy nor ...
-
Let me confess, first of all, that I don't read a lot of short stories. So while I'm a huge supporter of short fiction, I don't... -
Despite that fact that I'm fully aware that I'm home because I need to rest and, ahem, rest assured I'm doing just that, I have ...
-
The last few weeks of my life have been the most terrifying and joyful I have ever known. The purpose of this blog has never been to documen...
No comments:
Post a Comment