Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney is way popular with kids right now so I picked up the first volume and read it.

Can I say, I loved it! I was laughing out loud the whole way through. The only other book that has ever done that to me was some Dave Barry book -- probably Dave Barry Does Japan. Lucky for me, I get to work in the elementary school library teaching kids to read during summer school, and that place is a treasure trove of cool books. You have to be careful though -- there are tons of new kids books coming out with pretty, tempting covers but a lot of the stories are practically exactly the same as already existing stories. This Wimpy Kid series, however, is fresh and the author's humor is hilarious in a surprisingly non-cheesy way. It is illustrated with cute comics drawn by the narrator, and all the words have the appearance of being hand-written on lined journal paper. I highly recommend it.

PLUS the cover is pretty.

Help, I'm Trapped in a World of Big Black Books

Today after work I stopped by the University Bookstore to pick up a few items, one of them being Stephenie Meyer's Breaking Dawn. Yes, I have read all the books in the series so far, but not because I have a thing for hunky cryptozoologic creatures or because I have raging teenage hormones. My sister and I like to consider them to be a form of comic relief amidst the more serious books we read. They're really great-- they don't take any brain power to understand and you can sail through them leisurely while getting some good laughs here and there. One big qualm I have with them is how wordy they are... she could have gotten the same story in a fourth of as many pages without losing any content. But what do I know, she's the one selling books, not me. And by the way, I think it's great that housewives these days are able to produce bestselling novels. Go Stephenie Meyer and J.K. Rowling.

I am not so confident with my reasoning that I will flaunt it in public, however. I started out today by buying some office supplies on the first floor where my cashier girl was reading, wouldn't you know it, Breaking Dawn. Then I went up to the second floor to buy the book, and my cashier up there was also reading Breaking Dawn. I walked through the study area to get out of the building and noticed several other girls immersed in thick, black-jacketed books. At the bus stop, there were two girls sitting on the same bench, both reading said book. I began to feel like I was in some kind of bad nightmare. Needless to say, I did not join those girls by pulling out my own copy while waiting for the bus. Mine stayed safely hidden from view in double-bagged obscurity. At least until I was back in my apartment.

apology in lower-case letters

i'm sorry northwest library. it was a book report on mr. cummings and i
was probably just feeling s t r e s s
when i yelled at

you

for sending me the notification(just one of those times
when you think you're so right but you're really just really wrong you understand
)and i don't like to be told i'm wrong even when i am wrong

so that's why i marched up to your customer service desk and reprimanded your book sortingorganizing staff or whatever it is that their position is called and said it must be their fault their negligence overlookingness because i certainly returned all of the e. e. cummings books i borrowed, why wouldn't i return them all together of course i did the one that's missing is really small and skinny it probably
s
l
i
p
p
e
d
through the cracks if they just searched a little more they would find it but it is not my fault so don't even try to charge me don't even t r y to make such an accusation how dare you!

and you said

ok we will waive the fee but if you ever happen to find it go ahead and return it and i could tell you didn't believe me and i was angry you still thought it was

my fault.

well northwest library
...

a few weeks later i was cleaning my room and it was in a hidden corner hahathere it was and who knows how it got there you know (sheepishly) well it must have s l i p p e d through the cracks. and, well, i know you asked me to return it but then you would have known that you were right and you were right ok? but you know how it (pri) is (de) with this kind of thing

i still have it here
7yearslater
and read it sometimes
i think i understood it better back then
when i was a high schooler
that high schooler that yelled at you

no offense

mr. cummings.

Second-Daughter Syndrome

I've always felt there should be a book written about my family. There's something enamoring and captivating about an all-girl family -- how each daughter is so different in personality yet all are united by the unmatchable bonds of sisterhood (yes, yes, I realize I am completely biased in my statement.) It almost makes you want to "collect them all," if they were action figures, right?

I've also always imagined that I would be the heroine, or at least the narrator of the story.

Hey, before you start rolling your eyes at me, let me present the evidence for this. Think of the other stories about all-girl families you've read or heard. The most famous are probably the Bennett sisters in the much-loved Pride and Prejudice and the March sisters in Little Women. There are even the five daughters of Fiddler on the Roof (I can't think of their surname off the top of my head.) Now, who is the main character in each story? (Disregard Fiddler for now.) Elizabeth Bennett and Jo March, right? Both are the second daughters. Like me. And it doesn't end there.

You know the first daughters, Jane and Meg, and even Tzeitel? They are the role models, and always remind me strongly of my older sister, the first daughter of our family (just take the following comments with a grain of salt and humor me, Hatsuho.) They are obedient and wise and prettier and more practical than the second daughter. Thus, they don't get into as much trouble, and have the sense and good fortune to marry the first good, hard-working young man they meet. I'm not saying that my sister didn't have her share of challenges, but she has an impeccably cleaner record than me: she has never gotten a speeding ticket, been in a car accident, failed a class, gotten a detention in high school, been in debt, missed a deadline, or really been careless and irresponsible in any way. Basically, she hasn't done anything to cause my parents grief since she was a newborn, and even then I hear she was really good at sleeping through the night. Nobody really has to worry about the first daughter. I, on the other hand, have been and still am the complete opposite.

But I also like to think that I possess some of the good qualities of the second daughter: the dreamer and schemer with a love of writing, getting into scrapes but learning from them, taking risks, and hopefully in the end finding a man who adores her imperfections (another trend is that the younger daughters get married before the second daughter, and that's OK.) Now, I would be pretty happy with myself if I could also acquire Lizzie's wit, Jo's intellect, and Hodel's grace. There's always room for improvement, right?

So there you have it, some of the foolish and slightly narcissistic thoughts that go through my head as I go through this thing called life. You can agree or disagree with me, but I firmly hold that second-daughter syndrome exists, and that I am infected with it.

OK, now you can start rolling your eyes at me.