http://www.goodreads.com/review/list_rss/1069403 en-US Tue, 19 Aug 2008 21:34:07 -0700 60 http://www.goodreads.com/ 200 41 http://www.goodreads.com/images/layout/gr_logo.gif 30004682 Tue, 19 Aug 2008 21:34:07 -0700
When I was 15, I ended up at a party with a boy I liked. It was the first Friday night of Christmas break, and he was flirting with me the whole night. He kept telling me how pretty I was, asking when I would turn 16 (presumably so he could ask me out), and insisting I be his partner for all team games. The party was at my friends house just a few blocks away, so when I said I was leaving to go home and he offered to walk me, I thought, 'YES!! Oh my gosh I am finally going to get kissed!!' (Too bad I didn't know then that my lips wouldn't make their kissing debut until well into my senior year, or wouldn't have had to worry about it.) He walked me home and put his arm around me, and was sooo snuggly and I was sooo excited, then he chickened out (that's my theory) and just dropped me off with no kiss. I thought about him nonstop my whole two weeks of Christmas break, and I was SO excited to see him when school started again. We were going to date, fall in love, and get married. But then I went back to school, and...I have no idea what happened. This boy wouldn't even look me in the eye or say hi to me in the hall. We hardly spoke two words again until graduation, then we went our separate ways. Until, that is, last week when he requested I be his friend on facebook. After all these years he wants to be facebook freinds, with no apology for breaking my 15 year old heart.

Then, there was this boy that I met at Engineering State, a week long summertime event at Utah State University. I actually thought his roommate was super cute and was hoping for some action with him, but this boy suddenly put his arm around me on the way to a class the second morning. I thought, "Okay! I'll take him, sure." And so our love affair began. We walked around all week together, and went to the dance the last night as a couple. We left the dance and went outside, alone, and I thought, NOW I will finally get kissed! But he didn't kiss me. Not even close. We just walked around holding hands. Later that summer he called and asked me to go to Lagoon with him, which I did. He also took me fishing. I didn't adore him, but I was dying for him to kiss me each time. He never did. (Funny enough, we sort of kept in touch over the years, here and there. He went to Snow College and then went on a mission. The last I heard from him, he tracked me down at my apartment at BYU. I was sort of dating my husband, and I was also seriously contemplating a mission. He called and asked me what I was up to. I didn't really want to re-open the dating scene with him again (I was no longer dying for a first kiss), so I announced that I was putting my mission papers in. He said, 'Oh, hmmm... Well, do you have any single roommates?" I told him sorry, but none that he would be interested in. And so that romance died.)

This next story isn't specifically about a boy, but rather just more about my pitiful lack of romance. At girl's camp the next summer, everyone was sitting in a group out on the lawn, telling the story of their first kisses. Since I couldn't make up a story about a guy everyone knew (which could be later verified as false), and I couldn't tell the truth about being a social outcast, I lied and said I had kissed the boy at Engineering State. Then I talked about going to Lagoon with him and making out with him there. If that boy had got half as much action as I was telling everyone he got, he'd have been a very happy dude. I was mortified that I was the only girl who had never kissed a boy. Even the uglies had got some action before me. Looking back, I don't know why it didn't occur to me that maybe everyone else was lying too, but it didn't. I guess I figured everyone else was honest. It WAS girl's camp, after all.

I liked another guy. He sat in my Junior year English class two rows over. Between us sat my friend Shelley. One day, Shelley starts passing me little scraps of papers that say, "I know. I totally like Abby. There's no way she would ever like me, though." Shelley and this boy were writing to each other, and he was confiding in her how much he liked me, but didn't think I'd like him back. (Can you imagine how mortified he would have been to know she was doing that? I never told her a secret again as long as I lived.) I should have followed up with this boy. I liked him, and now I KNEW that he liked me. This is a prime example of my lack of romance skills. I never made a move. So instead of me (the apparently unattainable girlfriend) he asked out another friend of mine who he didn't like quite as much, but felt he had a chance with. They were hot and heavy for quite awhile. I kept in touch with this guy, and he later told me about how they would make out at the end of dates. Yep, I could've got action with a guy I liked, but I pretended not to like him. I was so dumb.

Finally, my senior year I had an actual "boyfriend". He started out my locker partner, and we became really good friends. We went to Homecoming together that year, but I could tell he liked me more than I liked him. Finally, one night during the middle of the school year we were eating french fries together at Burger King and he admitted he really liked me. We sort of started dating, but not exactly. It was kind of like best friends/locker partners/he loved me. Since we weren't exclusive, it opened the way up for interruptions, like stalkers. There was this CRAZY girl named Jenny who moved into his ward that fall. She loved my boyfriend. LOVED him. She made a whole scrapbook all about him and decorated his room one day when he was at work. The day after the Christmas Dance (which we went to with different people) she asked him to the next dance, Preference. (This was super early to ask and strange.) She came up and apologized afterwards to me, and I was like, "Oh... it's okay," because I wasn't sure how I felt about my "boyfriend" anyways.

She was a very pretty girl actually, but so stalker-ly. After Preference ended and all the lights were turned on, Stalker Girl grabs my boyfriend and hauls him to the parking lot as fast as she can. Most everyone else was hanging out inside for a few minutes, popping balloons and pulling down decorations. She pulls him behind a mini van, out of view and lays his first kiss on him. He doesn't object, obviously. He told me all about it not too long afterwards.

Then my boyfriend is in a school play, and he kisses another girl over and over and over again, as part of the script. They even take it the play to state competitions, where he kisses her even more times. I get to watch.

When did my boyfriend finally kiss ME? It wasn't until the end of our senior year, when we were almost graduated. By now we were pretty much officially together, and other suitors/stalkers had pretty much backed off. I lied to him. I told him he wasn't my first kiss. I didn't want him to know that I was such a dork. We're still friends and keep in touch. I occasionally contemplate telling him that he was really my first kiss, but I never get around to it. Maybe I'll tell him when we're 50 (or when he joins goodreads and reads this).

I could write a whole book, just like this one, about my high school crushes. Then the girls in this book who felt dumb for being virgins at the end of high school would feel better about themselves.]]>
author: Seventeen Magazine
name: Abby
average rating: 3.67
book published: 2007
rating: 2
read at:
date added: 08/19/08
shelves:
review:
I got this book in the mail this afternoon, and I've already finished it. So...it wasn't really too long. It's a collection of 24 love stories, written by teenage/college girls. It was really funny. It got me reminiscing about my failed love life as a teenager. I'd like to share some highlights:

When I was 15, I ended up at a party with a boy I liked. It was the first Friday night of Christmas break, and he was flirting with me the whole night. He kept telling me how pretty I was, asking when I would turn 16 (presumably so he could ask me out), and insisting I be his partner for all team games. The party was at my friends house just a few blocks away, so when I said I was leaving to go home and he offered to walk me, I thought, 'YES!! Oh my gosh I am finally going to get kissed!!' (Too bad I didn't know then that my lips wouldn't make their kissing debut until well into my senior year, or wouldn't have had to worry about it.) He walked me home and put his arm around me, and was sooo snuggly and I was sooo excited, then he chickened out (that's my theory) and just dropped me off with no kiss. I thought about him nonstop my whole two weeks of Christmas break, and I was SO excited to see him when school started again. We were going to date, fall in love, and get married. But then I went back to school, and...I have no idea what happened. This boy wouldn't even look me in the eye or say hi to me in the hall. We hardly spoke two words again until graduation, then we went our separate ways. Until, that is, last week when he requested I be his friend on facebook. After all these years he wants to be facebook freinds, with no apology for breaking my 15 year old heart.

Then, there was this boy that I met at Engineering State, a week long summertime event at Utah State University. I actually thought his roommate was super cute and was hoping for some action with him, but this boy suddenly put his arm around me on the way to a class the second morning. I thought, "Okay! I'll take him, sure." And so our love affair began. We walked around all week together, and went to the dance the last night as a couple. We left the dance and went outside, alone, and I thought, NOW I will finally get kissed! But he didn't kiss me. Not even close. We just walked around holding hands. Later that summer he called and asked me to go to Lagoon with him, which I did. He also took me fishing. I didn't adore him, but I was dying for him to kiss me each time. He never did. (Funny enough, we sort of kept in touch over the years, here and there. He went to Snow College and then went on a mission. The last I heard from him, he tracked me down at my apartment at BYU. I was sort of dating my husband, and I was also seriously contemplating a mission. He called and asked me what I was up to. I didn't really want to re-open the dating scene with him again (I was no longer dying for a first kiss), so I announced that I was putting my mission papers in. He said, 'Oh, hmmm... Well, do you have any single roommates?" I told him sorry, but none that he would be interested in. And so that romance died.)

This next story isn't specifically about a boy, but rather just more about my pitiful lack of romance. At girl's camp the next summer, everyone was sitting in a group out on the lawn, telling the story of their first kisses. Since I couldn't make up a story about a guy everyone knew (which could be later verified as false), and I couldn't tell the truth about being a social outcast, I lied and said I had kissed the boy at Engineering State. Then I talked about going to Lagoon with him and making out with him there. If that boy had got half as much action as I was telling everyone he got, he'd have been a very happy dude. I was mortified that I was the only girl who had never kissed a boy. Even the uglies had got some action before me. Looking back, I don't know why it didn't occur to me that maybe everyone else was lying too, but it didn't. I guess I figured everyone else was honest. It WAS girl's camp, after all.

I liked another guy. He sat in my Junior year English class two rows over. Between us sat my friend Shelley. One day, Shelley starts passing me little scraps of papers that say, "I know. I totally like Abby. There's no way she would ever like me, though." Shelley and this boy were writing to each other, and he was confiding in her how much he liked me, but didn't think I'd like him back. (Can you imagine how mortified he would have been to know she was doing that? I never told her a secret again as long as I lived.) I should have followed up with this boy. I liked him, and now I KNEW that he liked me. This is a prime example of my lack of romance skills. I never made a move. So instead of me (the apparently unattainable girlfriend) he asked out another friend of mine who he didn't like quite as much, but felt he had a chance with. They were hot and heavy for quite awhile. I kept in touch with this guy, and he later told me about how they would make out at the end of dates. Yep, I could've got action with a guy I liked, but I pretended not to like him. I was so dumb.

Finally, my senior year I had an actual "boyfriend". He started out my locker partner, and we became really good friends. We went to Homecoming together that year, but I could tell he liked me more than I liked him. Finally, one night during the middle of the school year we were eating french fries together at Burger King and he admitted he really liked me. We sort of started dating, but not exactly. It was kind of like best friends/locker partners/he loved me. Since we weren't exclusive, it opened the way up for interruptions, like stalkers. There was this CRAZY girl named Jenny who moved into his ward that fall. She loved my boyfriend. LOVED him. She made a whole scrapbook all about him and decorated his room one day when he was at work. The day after the Christmas Dance (which we went to with different people) she asked him to the next dance, Preference. (This was super early to ask and strange.) She came up and apologized afterwards to me, and I was like, "Oh... it's okay," because I wasn't sure how I felt about my "boyfriend" anyways.

She was a very pretty girl actually, but so stalker-ly. After Preference ended and all the lights were turned on, Stalker Girl grabs my boyfriend and hauls him to the parking lot as fast as she can. Most everyone else was hanging out inside for a few minutes, popping balloons and pulling down decorations. She pulls him behind a mini van, out of view and lays his first kiss on him. He doesn't object, obviously. He told me all about it not too long afterwards.

Then my boyfriend is in a school play, and he kisses another girl over and over and over again, as part of the script. They even take it the play to state competitions, where he kisses her even more times. I get to watch.

When did my boyfriend finally kiss ME? It wasn't until the end of our senior year, when we were almost graduated. By now we were pretty much officially together, and other suitors/stalkers had pretty much backed off. I lied to him. I told him he wasn't my first kiss. I didn't want him to know that I was such a dork. We're still friends and keep in touch. I occasionally contemplate telling him that he was really my first kiss, but I never get around to it. Maybe I'll tell him when we're 50 (or when he joins goodreads and reads this).

I could write a whole book, just like this one, about my high school crushes. Then the girls in this book who felt dumb for being virgins at the end of high school would feel better about themselves.
]]> 30548453 Tue, 19 Aug 2008 10:13:02 -0700
Worth reading, though.]]>
author: Marcus Sheridan
name: Abby
average rating: 3.00
book published: 2001
rating: 3
read at:
date added: 08/19/08
shelves:
review:
I just gave this book to my future missionary neighbor boy. It was a good book, but not as good as Randy Bott's missionary prep books. You just can't help but pale in comparison to Brother Bott.

Worth reading, though.
]]> 30542456 Tue, 19 Aug 2008 09:17:03 -0700
When Dale deployed for a year and a half, I thought, "Dude! I could have gone on a mission right now." The being pregnant part ruined the plan, though.

I don't think there are any better books than Brother Bott's for learning about being a missionary. I base this not only on my own uninformed non returned missionary opinion, but on the opinions of those who actually went on missions.]]>
author: Randy L. Bott
name: Abby
average rating: 3.72
book published: 1995
rating: 5
read at: 01/01
date added: 08/19/08
shelves:
review:
Here's another book I gave to my neighbor future missionary boy. It was really hard to give up. I still have fantasies that maybe they'll still call me on a mission. Like a secret one, where I go undercover as a mom of a toddler.

When Dale deployed for a year and a half, I thought, "Dude! I could have gone on a mission right now." The being pregnant part ruined the plan, though.

I don't think there are any better books than Brother Bott's for learning about being a missionary. I base this not only on my own uninformed non returned missionary opinion, but on the opinions of those who actually went on missions.
]]> 30541452 Tue, 19 Aug 2008 09:13:46 -0700
This guy was very cool. I took his classes at BYU, getting ready for my mission, which I never went on.

So, I guess I was not supposed to go on a mission. Probably for some good reason. But I still think I would've been a good missionary. At least I got Lasik eye surgery with the money I had saved for my mission. That rocked. ]]>
author: Randy L. Bott
name: Abby
average rating: 4.29
book published: 1995
rating: 5
read at: 01/01
date added: 08/19/08
shelves:
review:
I gave all of my missionary prep books and tapes to my 18 year old neighbor boy, who was heading down to CEU for the semester. I figured that since I am 27 and married with a kid, it was finally time to admit that I am probably not going to serve a mission after all. I'm learning to let go.

This guy was very cool. I took his classes at BYU, getting ready for my mission, which I never went on.

So, I guess I was not supposed to go on a mission. Probably for some good reason. But I still think I would've been a good missionary. At least I got Lasik eye surgery with the money I had saved for my mission. That rocked.
]]> 20898045 Mon, 18 Aug 2008 07:15:03 -0700
Having just read this book, "Richistan" a month back, and "The Price of Privilege" last spring, I can only come to the conclusion that being super wealthy will screw your kids up more than anything else, barring abuse. Did you know that Mitt Romney's kids had no idea how well off their parents were? While the youngest was on his mission, his parents bought a vacation home in Utah. That son recalled thinking, "How on earth did Mom and Dad get money for something like that? I hope they're not going off the deep end with their retirement money." Ha, ha. They had no idea.

Also, this book spurred conversations about celebrity moms who "do it all". There are countless articles about these famous moms (like Angelina Jolie) praising them for being a super mom, raising kids and still looking beautiful and poised and skinny. It's a load of crap. They all have 4 full time live in nannies (not to mention housekeepers, chefs, personal trainers, etc..) to watch after their kids while they shoot movies and go to parties. Yep, I'm pretty sure I could be saintly all the time if someone else changed all of Benjamin's diapers and battled mealtimes with him.

I feel genuinely sorry for kids who don't have a mom there taking care of them. Nannies come and go, and kids are more attached to them than their own parents because these women are the ones who care for them.

On an unrelated topic, my sister and cousin suddenly started called my Granny "Nanny" years ago. I still call her Granny, because it's seriously dumb to call her Nanny. Why don't we just call her "Butler", or "Maid"? I have never understood this weird thing they do.]]>
author: Emma McLaughlin
name: Abby
average rating: 3.23
book published: 2007
rating: 3
read at:
date added: 08/18/08
shelves:
review:
I enjoyed this book. It's about a girl who is a nanny for a rich family. Rich families are often totally disfunctional, and so it goes in this book. It's funny to watch what the crazy mother will do to her next, and it breaks your heart that the little kid in this family is just an accessory for his parents.

Having just read this book, "Richistan" a month back, and "The Price of Privilege" last spring, I can only come to the conclusion that being super wealthy will screw your kids up more than anything else, barring abuse. Did you know that Mitt Romney's kids had no idea how well off their parents were? While the youngest was on his mission, his parents bought a vacation home in Utah. That son recalled thinking, "How on earth did Mom and Dad get money for something like that? I hope they're not going off the deep end with their retirement money." Ha, ha. They had no idea.

Also, this book spurred conversations about celebrity moms who "do it all". There are countless articles about these famous moms (like Angelina Jolie) praising them for being a super mom, raising kids and still looking beautiful and poised and skinny. It's a load of crap. They all have 4 full time live in nannies (not to mention housekeepers, chefs, personal trainers, etc..) to watch after their kids while they shoot movies and go to parties. Yep, I'm pretty sure I could be saintly all the time if someone else changed all of Benjamin's diapers and battled mealtimes with him.

I feel genuinely sorry for kids who don't have a mom there taking care of them. Nannies come and go, and kids are more attached to them than their own parents because these women are the ones who care for them.

On an unrelated topic, my sister and cousin suddenly started called my Granny "Nanny" years ago. I still call her Granny, because it's seriously dumb to call her Nanny. Why don't we just call her "Butler", or "Maid"? I have never understood this weird thing they do.
]]> 27300158 Mon, 18 Aug 2008 06:52:10 -0700
There are so many reasons why I love this author. In fact, I was thrilled to find that I share with him many strange neurotic behaviors, which I thought belonged solely to me (except for his germaphobia - my kid can lick the street and I won't bat an eyelash).

FOR EXAMPLE: When he was in Jr. High school, he used to imagine that girls he had crushes on were watching him. Not just at school (where they ignored him), but at home, when he was alone in his bedroom. So he had to act cool, no matter what. Here is a secret about me: I always did the same thing. Actually, I still do. I imagine that someone is watching me when I am alone. Maybe it's my husband, my unborn children, girls who were mean to me in elementary school who would now be jealous of me, or maybe talent scouts. I do it on at least a semi-regular basis, especially when something cool happens to me and I want to rub it in the face of someone I used to know.

Here is an example of me imagining that people were always watching me: In 7th grade, this super creepy 8th grader named Sam came up to me at my locker and said, "Abby. I hope you know that I took the time to write you a note." I said, "Oh." And he handed me a folded up note and walked off. He had a tone of voice like we were having a big fight, but in reality we never talked. We were in the same math class, and I think he thought we were friends because I didn't make fun of him to his face like everyone else did. (I'm not proud of this time in my life, but he seriously was very creepy.) As of late, I had been making less eye contact in class, and the teacher had rearranged the seating chart so I no longer sat by him. I think he figured we were having a lover's spat.

Well, I was walking down the hall to my last period with the note in hand. I thought, "What would a totally cool girl do?" and I imagined the whole school was watching me. I acted very cool and tossed his note straight into the trash without reading it. Oh, if I could only go back in time and change that moment! I have always wondered what was in that note. Me and creepy Sam never spoke again the rest of the year.

Fast forward to my junior year in high school. We STILL have not spoken since that 7th grade moment, and he is still kind of creepy. However, I have grown up enough to realize that I don't have to shun him. He is in a photography class, and I am a photography T.A. (although not for his class). One day, I suddenly see him around the corner from the dark room, doing some make up work. I stand on the other side of the wall, debating whether or not I should walk to him and say, "Sam! How you doing? I know we haven't talked in years and all, but I accidentally lost a note you gave me back in 7th grade, and I have always meant to ask you what it said." But no matter how many times I tried to figure out a casual way to ask, it didn't sound right. So I chickened out and went back to the classroom.

#1 regret of my life: Throwing away that note from Sam in 7th grade.
#2 regret of my life: Chickening out my junior year and not asking Sam what was in that note.

Dear God, can you help me meet Sam at the grocery store sometime? I just have a very important little question to ask him. Also, it would help if you could make him less creepy so that I don't chicken out. Thanks!]]>
author: A.J. Jacobs
name: Abby
average rating: 3.83
book published: 2005
rating: 4
read at: 08/08
date added: 08/18/08
shelves:
review:
In this book A.J. Jacobs reads the entire Encyclopedia Britannica from A- Z, in an attempt to become the smartest person alive. I can understand. I LOVED the encyclopedia when I was a kid. However, it was the World Book (with lots of pictures), and I didn't read it A-Z. I probably lingered on articles about cats and The Beatles way more than any about mathematical concepts or historical events. But still, I know what it's like to cuddle up with an encyclopedia for the evening, just like A.J.

There are so many reasons why I love this author. In fact, I was thrilled to find that I share with him many strange neurotic behaviors, which I thought belonged solely to me (except for his germaphobia - my kid can lick the street and I won't bat an eyelash).

FOR EXAMPLE: When he was in Jr. High school, he used to imagine that girls he had crushes on were watching him. Not just at school (where they ignored him), but at home, when he was alone in his bedroom. So he had to act cool, no matter what. Here is a secret about me: I always did the same thing. Actually, I still do. I imagine that someone is watching me when I am alone. Maybe it's my husband, my unborn children, girls who were mean to me in elementary school who would now be jealous of me, or maybe talent scouts. I do it on at least a semi-regular basis, especially when something cool happens to me and I want to rub it in the face of someone I used to know.

Here is an example of me imagining that people were always watching me: In 7th grade, this super creepy 8th grader named Sam came up to me at my locker and said, "Abby. I hope you know that I took the time to write you a note." I said, "Oh." And he handed me a folded up note and walked off. He had a tone of voice like we were having a big fight, but in reality we never talked. We were in the same math class, and I think he thought we were friends because I didn't make fun of him to his face like everyone else did. (I'm not proud of this time in my life, but he seriously was very creepy.) As of late, I had been making less eye contact in class, and the teacher had rearranged the seating chart so I no longer sat by him. I think he figured we were having a lover's spat.

Well, I was walking down the hall to my last period with the note in hand. I thought, "What would a totally cool girl do?" and I imagined the whole school was watching me. I acted very cool and tossed his note straight into the trash without reading it. Oh, if I could only go back in time and change that moment! I have always wondered what was in that note. Me and creepy Sam never spoke again the rest of the year.

Fast forward to my junior year in high school. We STILL have not spoken since that 7th grade moment, and he is still kind of creepy. However, I have grown up enough to realize that I don't have to shun him. He is in a photography class, and I am a photography T.A. (although not for his class). One day, I suddenly see him around the corner from the dark room, doing some make up work. I stand on the other side of the wall, debating whether or not I should walk to him and say, "Sam! How you doing? I know we haven't talked in years and all, but I accidentally lost a note you gave me back in 7th grade, and I have always meant to ask you what it said." But no matter how many times I tried to figure out a casual way to ask, it didn't sound right. So I chickened out and went back to the classroom.

#1 regret of my life: Throwing away that note from Sam in 7th grade.
#2 regret of my life: Chickening out my junior year and not asking Sam what was in that note.

Dear God, can you help me meet Sam at the grocery store sometime? I just have a very important little question to ask him. Also, it would help if you could make him less creepy so that I don't chicken out. Thanks!
]]> 24367486 Tue, 12 Aug 2008 20:11:29 -0700
So, when he's not writing for Esquire, he writes books. This is one of them. It's about his quest to live all the laws of the bible the best he can, for a full year. Not just things like "Love thy neighbor", but also the stranger laws- blow a horn at the start of each month, get a slave, or learn to play a 10 stringed harp. It was super funny, but also very sincere. He really was trying to examine religion, as he had generations of Jewish blood in his veins. But he didn't pick and choose stuff. He did everything. He even threw little pebbles at people he saw breaking the Sabbath, because the bible says they have to be stoned.

When I started this book, I thought a lot of the things he had decided to do for the sake of religion sounded ridiculous. Like, not touch his wife when she menstruates. Or, make sure that none of his clothes have mixed fibers in them. But then I got to the part where he decided to tithe ten percent of his income that year, like the bible directs. I thought, "Whoa! That's crazy talk. He's going to just give away a tenth of his income?!" Then I went, "Wait. Rewind. I'm Mormon! I pay 10% tithing. GASP." I totally had forgotten I did the same thing.

Then I was thinking about other things that are normal to me, that would seem very strange to an outsider:

1. Garments. I wear garments instead of normal underwear. When I was a kid, I thought garments were just to keep people modest, so that they wouldn't go around wearing skimpy shorts and belly shirts. As I looked around at all the old wrinkly people in my ward, it seemed like a pretty darn good idea. It was strange to learn as I got older that there was more to it than that. Praise the Lord anyways for keeping my parents from wearing tube tops.

2. Full time missionaries. Two years away from home, paying your own way, not getting paid, just walking around proselytizing about your particular brand of religion? In the book, the author invites a Jehovah's Witness over to discuss the bible. He's way into it, but after 3 1/2 hours the Jehovah's Witness is like, "Uh, sir... I probably should let you get to bed." The author insists he's really enjoying the conversation. "No, really. You need to go to bed" he's told. I thought, "Poor guy, because proselyting is part of his religion, he got stuck away from his family for a whole evening with some guy not even interested in joining his church. Then it hit me - three hours? We go for TWO YEARS. And I wanted to go as a missionary too, real bad. I am so odd.

3. Temple marriages. Nobody can come see you get married unless they have a temple recommend. You don't get to walk down the aisle with a bouquet in hand. While the temple is pretty, you have to share the front of it with 20 other brides getting married the same day for pictures. Can you even imagine any other bride being fine with having to share her dressing room with 5 other brides at the same time, as well as lots of old ladies there doing temple work that day? Funny how odd and even mean it sounds to do to a girl when you look at it that way.

4. Our lay ministry. Oh my heck! I have too many callings. Plus visiting teaching on top of that. And ward choir, where I play the part of the soprano who (occasionally) sings in key. I have no idea what non-Mormons do with all their time. Probably get drunk.

5. No drinking! Lots of people drink, I've been noticing as a grown up. I fail to see the appeal. Okay, that's not totally true, sometimes it sounds fun. Good thing I have an iron will, except when it come to brownies. If the church ever outlawed brownies, I would be excommunicated in a snap.

6. Ha, ha. The author decided to try the whole celibacy thing for a few weeks. (Coincidentally, it was while his wife was 8 months pregnant with twins and said he couldn't touch her anyways, so I'm not sure it really counts.) He talked about the idea of celibacy being the best way to live, and marriage the second best (according to one interpretation of Paul's teachings) as a way to funnel your passions. I actually thought, "Well, good thing he didn't try to do the year of living biblically when he was single, or that would have meant NO SEX whatsover, for the whole year! That would have sucked." Then I thought for another second and realized, "Wait a minute! I DID that, and for YEARS. And yeah, it did suck!" (Oh, also - my husband was deployed for a year and a half. So how come I wasn't all spiritually enlightened the whole time? I think I deserved a vision or something.)

The only bummer was that he didn't talk about Mormons much, or ever meet with one. I wanted to hear what he would say! He did say once that he was starting to think structure is good, like Mormon missionaries, and another time I was scanning a page and saw the word "oxymoron" and thought the "moron" part of the word said "mormon" and got excited over nothing.

Not only did he do all the strange biblical laws, he also tried to go a year without gossiping, swearing, backbiting, having lustful thoughts, lying, etc, etc... I decided to try for one day while reading this book. I failed by 9 AM, when I went on a walk with my neighbor and spend an hour venting about a teenage girl in the ward who was driving me crazy. Then I had lustful thoughts while watching some olympic athletes. Then I lied to a someone who called that I just didn't want to talk to for very long. I told her I was going visiting teaching and had to hang up. And that night, my sweet neighbor girl came over and asked for a donation for her marching band fundraiser. At first, I was all greedy and thought about how I didn't want to give her anything. Then I looked at the sign up list and saw that the other neighbor's had been giving her between $15 and $25 each. So I gave $20, because I was too prideful to be the cheapest one, not because I really cared about the marching band. Crap! I suck at living biblically.

This was one of the funnest books I have read in forever. I highly recommend it. I hope A.J. sends me some royalties.

PS. Now that I just finished my biblical book, I am going to go and do something un-biblical. I think I'm going to go steal. Technically, it will be borrowing without permission, because I plan to give back what I take. I'm going to sneak a book out of the library. Let me tell you why. I returned a book over a month ago, and they called me last Friday to tell me they were charging me $24.99 (the price of the book), because there was a crayon mark on ONE page of the book. I was the first to ever check it out, so the policy is, any damage whatsoever is punished by purchasing the book.

I was real mad. I wrote an angry letter to the editor of our local paper blasting the Lehi library for ripping me off. But that night, I went in person to view the "damage" on the book and talked to a real nice lady who promised to take it to the library board for me, and ask them to reduce or remove the fine from my account. The problem now is that my library card is locked until that board meeting, or until I pay the $25 fine. The board meeting isn't for another month. So, I think I'm going to borrow a book, although I can't technically check it out. (Like I can go a month without a new book!)

I know for a fact that the fancy security things at the front door that are supposed to scare you from stealing books are fake. I have had un-checked out books in my hand dozens of times when Benjamin has made a run for an open door. I guess he thinks he'll wait for me in the parking lot while I check out my books. I always run after him, right through those security things, with my un-checked out books in hand. It's not like they ever sound an alarm or anything. So, unless they are scanning my retinas to attain my identity, they will have no idea I borrowed a book.

I think it's the library's fault for their stupid rule.

Oh, yeah. The local paper called me today to verify it was me that wrote my letter to the editor, because they were going to publish it.
Such good news/bad news. Yeah! that they wanted to publish my letter, and bleh! that I had to tell them to forget it, because I don't want an angry letter from me in the paper to taint my chances with the library board getting the fine waived.

PPS. Since my sister read this book, and she is under the impression that every good book I find was recommended to me by her, I'll tell the true story of how I stumbled across this book:

One the radio one day, Glenn Beck was talking about a book called "Just Do It". In it, a wife gives her husband the best birthday present she can think of: she says she will have sex with him 100 days straight. It's a book about their humorous journey. Apparently he gets sick or flies out of town on business, but she insists that they find a way to do it anyways. He's ready to throw in the towel, but she is competitive and unrelenting.

I went and looked online to see when they book was going to be released. There were some pre-release reviews about it. In one review, the author said something like, "It has a funny premise, but it's no A.J. Jacob's book." So I looked up A.J. Jacobs. And I found this book. See, totally not related to my sister at all. It was a book about sex that lead me to this biblical book, actually.
]]>
author: A.J. Jacobs
name: Abby
average rating: 3.85
book published: 2007
rating: 5
read at: 08/08
date added: 08/12/08
shelves:
review:
I really, really liked this book! A.J. Jacobs is now one of my favorite guys. He writes for Esquire magazine. I don't even know for sure what that magazine is about (I think it's a men's magazine), but it makes me want to read it anyways.

So, when he's not writing for Esquire, he writes books. This is one of them. It's about his quest to live all the laws of the bible the best he can, for a full year. Not just things like "Love thy neighbor", but also the stranger laws- blow a horn at the start of each month, get a slave, or learn to play a 10 stringed harp. It was super funny, but also very sincere. He really was trying to examine religion, as he had generations of Jewish blood in his veins. But he didn't pick and choose stuff. He did everything. He even threw little pebbles at people he saw breaking the Sabbath, because the bible says they have to be stoned.

When I started this book, I thought a lot of the things he had decided to do for the sake of religion sounded ridiculous. Like, not touch his wife when she menstruates. Or, make sure that none of his clothes have mixed fibers in them. But then I got to the part where he decided to tithe ten percent of his income that year, like the bible directs. I thought, "Whoa! That's crazy talk. He's going to just give away a tenth of his income?!" Then I went, "Wait. Rewind. I'm Mormon! I pay 10% tithing. GASP." I totally had forgotten I did the same thing.

Then I was thinking about other things that are normal to me, that would seem very strange to an outsider:

1. Garments. I wear garments instead of normal underwear. When I was a kid, I thought garments were just to keep people modest, so that they wouldn't go around wearing skimpy shorts and belly shirts. As I looked around at all the old wrinkly people in my ward, it seemed like a pretty darn good idea. It was strange to learn as I got older that there was more to it than that. Praise the Lord anyways for keeping my parents from wearing tube tops.

2. Full time missionaries. Two years away from home, paying your own way, not getting paid, just walking around proselytizing about your particular brand of religion? In the book, the author invites a Jehovah's Witness over to discuss the bible. He's way into it, but after 3 1/2 hours the Jehovah's Witness is like, "Uh, sir... I probably should let you get to bed." The author insists he's really enjoying the conversation. "No, really. You need to go to bed" he's told. I thought, "Poor guy, because proselyting is part of his religion, he got stuck away from his family for a whole evening with some guy not even interested in joining his church. Then it hit me - three hours? We go for TWO YEARS. And I wanted to go as a missionary too, real bad. I am so odd.

3. Temple marriages. Nobody can come see you get married unless they have a temple recommend. You don't get to walk down the aisle with a bouquet in hand. While the temple is pretty, you have to share the front of it with 20 other brides getting married the same day for pictures. Can you even imagine any other bride being fine with having to share her dressing room with 5 other brides at the same time, as well as lots of old ladies there doing temple work that day? Funny how odd and even mean it sounds to do to a girl when you look at it that way.

4. Our lay ministry. Oh my heck! I have too many callings. Plus visiting teaching on top of that. And ward choir, where I play the part of the soprano who (occasionally) sings in key. I have no idea what non-Mormons do with all their time. Probably get drunk.

5. No drinking! Lots of people drink, I've been noticing as a grown up. I fail to see the appeal. Okay, that's not totally true, sometimes it sounds fun. Good thing I have an iron will, except when it come to brownies. If the church ever outlawed brownies, I would be excommunicated in a snap.

6. Ha, ha. The author decided to try the whole celibacy thing for a few weeks. (Coincidentally, it was while his wife was 8 months pregnant with twins and said he couldn't touch her anyways, so I'm not sure it really counts.) He talked about the idea of celibacy being the best way to live, and marriage the second best (according to one interpretation of Paul's teachings) as a way to funnel your passions. I actually thought, "Well, good thing he didn't try to do the year of living biblically when he was single, or that would have meant NO SEX whatsover, for the whole year! That would have sucked." Then I thought for another second and realized, "Wait a minute! I DID that, and for YEARS. And yeah, it did suck!" (Oh, also - my husband was deployed for a year and a half. So how come I wasn't all spiritually enlightened the whole time? I think I deserved a vision or something.)

The only bummer was that he didn't talk about Mormons much, or ever meet with one. I wanted to hear what he would say! He did say once that he was starting to think structure is good, like Mormon missionaries, and another time I was scanning a page and saw the word "oxymoron" and thought the "moron" part of the word said "mormon" and got excited over nothing.

Not only did he do all the strange biblical laws, he also tried to go a year without gossiping, swearing, backbiting, having lustful thoughts, lying, etc, etc... I decided to try for one day while reading this book. I failed by 9 AM, when I went on a walk with my neighbor and spend an hour venting about a teenage girl in the ward who was driving me crazy. Then I had lustful thoughts while watching some olympic athletes. Then I lied to a someone who called that I just didn't want to talk to for very long. I told her I was going visiting teaching and had to hang up. And that night, my sweet neighbor girl came over and asked for a donation for her marching band fundraiser. At first, I was all greedy and thought about how I didn't want to give her anything. Then I looked at the sign up list and saw that the other neighbor's had been giving her between $15 and $25 each. So I gave $20, because I was too prideful to be the cheapest one, not because I really cared about the marching band. Crap! I suck at living biblically.

This was one of the funnest books I have read in forever. I highly recommend it. I hope A.J. sends me some royalties.

PS. Now that I just finished my biblical book, I am going to go and do something un-biblical. I think I'm going to go steal. Technically, it will be borrowing without permission, because I plan to give back what I take. I'm going to sneak a book out of the library. Let me tell you why. I returned a book over a month ago, and they called me last Friday to tell me they were charging me $24.99 (the price of the book), because there was a crayon mark on ONE page of the book. I was the first to ever check it out, so the policy is, any damage whatsoever is punished by purchasing the book.

I was real mad. I wrote an angry letter to the editor of our local paper blasting the Lehi library for ripping me off. But that night, I went in person to view the "damage" on the book and talked to a real nice lady who promised to take it to the library board for me, and ask them to reduce or remove the fine from my account. The problem now is that my library card is locked until that board meeting, or until I pay the $25 fine. The board meeting isn't for another month. So, I think I'm going to borrow a book, although I can't technically check it out. (Like I can go a month without a new book!)

I know for a fact that the fancy security things at the front door that are supposed to scare you from stealing books are fake. I have had un-checked out books in my hand dozens of times when Benjamin has made a run for an open door. I guess he thinks he'll wait for me in the parking lot while I check out my books. I always run after him, right through those security things, with my un-checked out books in hand. It's not like they ever sound an alarm or anything. So, unless they are scanning my retinas to attain my identity, they will have no idea I borrowed a book.

I think it's the library's fault for their stupid rule.

Oh, yeah. The local paper called me today to verify it was me that wrote my letter to the editor, because they were going to publish it.
Such good news/bad news. Yeah! that they wanted to publish my letter, and bleh! that I had to tell them to forget it, because I don't want an angry letter from me in the paper to taint my chances with the library board getting the fine waived.

PPS. Since my sister read this book, and she is under the impression that every good book I find was recommended to me by her, I'll tell the true story of how I stumbled across this book:

One the radio one day, Glenn Beck was talking about a book called "Just Do It". In it, a wife gives her husband the best birthday present she can think of: she says she will have sex with him 100 days straight. It's a book about their humorous journey. Apparently he gets sick or flies out of town on business, but she insists that they find a way to do it anyways. He's ready to throw in the towel, but she is competitive and unrelenting.

I went and looked online to see when they book was going to be released. There were some pre-release reviews about it. In one review, the author said something like, "It has a funny premise, but it's no A.J. Jacob's book." So I looked up A.J. Jacobs. And I found this book. See, totally not related to my sister at all. It was a book about sex that lead me to this biblical book, actually.

]]> 19861535 Thu, 07 Aug 2008 20:34:40 -0700
I'm sure I'll read it again someday, and this was my second time through. I think it's a good book to own. Tosca Reno (the author) was about 40 when she lost all of her weight and became a super buff lady and started writing health articles/books. So, I figure I have another 10-15 years to slowly wean myself off of brownies, salad dressing and sugar.

I lost about 3-4 lbs while re-reading this book. Look out bikini season! (JUST KIDDING!! Like I would ever dare wear a bikini in public.)]]>
author: Tosca Reno
name: Abby
average rating: 3.89
book published: 2007
rating: 4
read at: 08/08
date added: 08/07/08
shelves:
review:
This book gets credit for me not weighing 197 pounds. I love brownies. This book loves spinach.

I'm sure I'll read it again someday, and this was my second time through. I think it's a good book to own. Tosca Reno (the author) was about 40 when she lost all of her weight and became a super buff lady and started writing health articles/books. So, I figure I have another 10-15 years to slowly wean myself off of brownies, salad dressing and sugar.

I lost about 3-4 lbs while re-reading this book. Look out bikini season! (JUST KIDDING!! Like I would ever dare wear a bikini in public.)
]]> 29178088 Sun, 03 Aug 2008 21:24:56 -0700
Then I just read the first line of the book description, where is says "MMDU is a fictional account..." What?! It didn't really happen? I am crushed.

It's about an American writer who does to Australia to supposedly accept a writing award (or speak or something) to a group of aborigines, but instead they kidnap her and take her on a walkabout across Australia for several months. I remember by the end she decided to walk naked with them. It seemed so liberating that I wanted to do it (except wearing sunscreen).

Not only did I not realize it was a made up story all these years, it caused an embarassing moment when I was 18 and a freshman at BYU. At 18, I was still under the impression that I was the smartest person alive. I was talking to a friend who said the phrase "the aborigines in Africa", to which I replied, "Ha, ha. You're so funny. Aborigines are from AUSTRALIA, not Africa. Ha, ha!" And we debated whether or not there were aborigines in Africa. I went that night to a dictionary to look up "aborigine" and rub my superior vocabularly in his face, but found out I was wrong. The word aborigine has nothing to do with Australia. It just means the original people who lived in a country. Instead of rubbing it in his face, I kept my shame to myself and never brought it up again. I was crushed, and began traveling the road to humility.

PS. It says here that this book was published in 2004. Either the site is wrong, or I traveled to the future when I was in 7th grade. ]]>
author: Marlo Morgan
name: Abby
average rating: 3.73
book published: 2004
rating: 4
read at: 01/94
date added: 08/03/08
shelves:
review:
Oh my gosh! I have just experienced a major heartbreak. I read this book when I was in 7th grade, and I always thought it was a true story. I loved it. I imagined I was the author. I read it twice. I also wrote a book report about it for my 7th grade English class.

Then I just read the first line of the book description, where is says "MMDU is a fictional account..." What?! It didn't really happen? I am crushed.

It's about an American writer who does to Australia to supposedly accept a writing award (or speak or something) to a group of aborigines, but instead they kidnap her and take her on a walkabout across Australia for several months. I remember by the end she decided to walk naked with them. It seemed so liberating that I wanted to do it (except wearing sunscreen).

Not only did I not realize it was a made up story all these years, it caused an embarassing moment when I was 18 and a freshman at BYU. At 18, I was still under the impression that I was the smartest person alive. I was talking to a friend who said the phrase "the aborigines in Africa", to which I replied, "Ha, ha. You're so funny. Aborigines are from AUSTRALIA, not Africa. Ha, ha!" And we debated whether or not there were aborigines in Africa. I went that night to a dictionary to look up "aborigine" and rub my superior vocabularly in his face, but found out I was wrong. The word aborigine has nothing to do with Australia. It just means the original people who lived in a country. Instead of rubbing it in his face, I kept my shame to myself and never brought it up again. I was crushed, and began traveling the road to humility.

PS. It says here that this book was published in 2004. Either the site is wrong, or I traveled to the future when I was in 7th grade.
]]> 23689639 Wed, 23 Jul 2008 13:58:08 -0700
Anyways, it's a book about the "new rich", as in, people who have made their fortunes within the last, I don't know, 20 years. It talks about their yachts, and their houses, their butlers, their ridiculous "charitable" balls. It lead me to this conclusion: whether people are super wealthy or super poor, they can be real stupid with their money.

My husband is in the military, and I got a packet of info from our annual summer party last week. One section talks about what to do in a financial emergency. See, the army has some charitable organization that helps out military families (particularly during deployments) with financial crises, such as no money for rent, or a broken down car. Here is why I refuse to donate:

The packet entitled "Resources for a Financial Emergency" includes a bullet point on the front page, giving advice for families before coming to the military for aid: "Cut Expenses... Consider reducing or eliminating your cable television service, for example."

WHAT? So, they call for help paying their rent, and the person on the phone asks, "Well, Ma'am, have you considered reducing your cable television service yet?" The military spouse says, "Yep. I considered it a bit." Phone person says, "All right. Just checking. Now I'll send you free money." .

Anyways, people at one level are convinced they need cable television to survive. On another level, wealthier people are convinced they need 5 star hotels, room service and yachts. No matter what, you are rich in America. Just like I look at the people in this book and wonder how they can blow through as much money as they do and still want more, I am sure people from the world over would look at me and wonder they same. (Like, "You mean, you could afford a college degree that you never even USED?!")

One other point of interest is the wealthy's "charitable giving". It's more for show than anything. They never seem to give away enough to make it hurt. They use it as a way to gain respect from others, and climb some social ladder. For example, he interviewed one particularly annoying man who spoke repeatedly of his donations to charity. He said, "Oh, I just give and give and give. I just love helping other people. I just do it because I care so much, dang it." Then he added, "By the way, here is a list of all my recent charitable givings. You can publish them in your book. Actually, let me get you a spreadsheet of them so you get them all correct."

I had a professor at BYU I really liked. His name was Richard Johnson and he wrote a piece called "Wealth and Poverty". (Feel free to google it yourself, when I tried last time, it froze my computer and I lost this review.) It was very controversial. It boiled down to this: charity is not so much defined by how much you give away, but by how much you keep for yourself. You know, the widow's mite, like in the BIBLE. But people were seriously pissed off. Wealthy donors to BYU said they would not continue to contribute funds unless he was fired. Crazy stuff like that.

I agree with him. Giving a $10 million endowment to something, but keeping $2 billion leftover for yourself is not that impressive. And for your $10 million token, you get a building named in your honor, banquets for you, and news stories all over the community declaring you as awesome. Wouldn't you or I donate $100 for something like that? It's the equivalent for them. (According to some social theorists (I was a sociology major), the only true gift is an anonymous one. If you give it to someone and get the thanks and praise, you got something in return. The only way to really give a gift is to secretly do it and not get the credit. Kind of like parents wrap gifts for their kids and say Santa brought them, perhaps. Oh, wait. I guess they do get recognized, it's just delayed until the kids learn that their parents were Santa. Never mind!)

I realize how completely filled with blame I am. I am exactly like the richies in the book. I pay tithing and fast offerings. I donate to the Perpetual Education Fund and the church's Humanitarian Fund. But do I give enough to make it really hurt? Do I starve because of it? Couldn't the leftover food I toss out each year feed hundreds of people in another country? Hey, I didn't even give my kid anything for Christmas and pretend it was from Santa. (He was only a year old, anyways.) I did, however, find some toys he already had that I didn't think my mother in law had seen, and wrapped them up. I made sure he unwrapped them in front of her so that she wouldn't think I didn't get my kid anything for Christmas. She would've been mortified.

We are all too rich. We are all to greedy and dumb with our money. How depressing! Maybe I'll go rescue a cat from the shelter to feel better. Dale's out of town with the scouts, so he can't stop me. Ha ha!!!!!]]>
author: Robert Frank
name: Abby
average rating: 3.54
book published: 2007
rating: 3
read at:
date added: 07/23/08
shelves:
review:
I actually finished this book a couple days ago. I wrote most of a review, then my computer froze up and I lost it. I have been putting off writing it again. This book dragged for me. I spent a long time reading it. Part of that was because I lost it for a few days on the back of downstairs toilet. I hardly ever use that bathroom.

Anyways, it's a book about the "new rich", as in, people who have made their fortunes within the last, I don't know, 20 years. It talks about their yachts, and their houses, their butlers, their ridiculous "charitable" balls. It lead me to this conclusion: whether people are super wealthy or super poor, they can be real stupid with their money.

My husband is in the military, and I got a packet of info from our annual summer party last week. One section talks about what to do in a financial emergency. See, the army has some charitable organization that helps out military families (particularly during deployments) with financial crises, such as no money for rent, or a broken down car. Here is why I refuse to donate:

The packet entitled "Resources for a Financial Emergency" includes a bullet point on the front page, giving advice for families before coming to the military for aid: "Cut Expenses... Consider reducing or eliminating your cable television service, for example."

WHAT? So, they call for help paying their rent, and the person on the phone asks, "Well, Ma'am, have you considered reducing your cable television service yet?" The military spouse says, "Yep. I considered it a bit." Phone person says, "All right. Just checking. Now I'll send you free money." .

Anyways, people at one level are convinced they need cable television to survive. On another level, wealthier people are convinced they need 5 star hotels, room service and yachts. No matter what, you are rich in America. Just like I look at the people in this book and wonder how they can blow through as much money as they do and still want more, I am sure people from the world over would look at me and wonder they same. (Like, "You mean, you could afford a college degree that you never even USED?!")

One other point of interest is the wealthy's "charitable giving". It's more for show than anything. They never seem to give away enough to make it hurt. They use it as a way to gain respect from others, and climb some social ladder. For example, he interviewed one particularly annoying man who spoke repeatedly of his donations to charity. He said, "Oh, I just give and give and give. I just love helping other people. I just do it because I care so much, dang it." Then he added, "By the way, here is a list of all my recent charitable givings. You can publish them in your book. Actually, let me get you a spreadsheet of them so you get them all correct."

I had a professor at BYU I really liked. His name was Richard Johnson and he wrote a piece called "Wealth and Poverty". (Feel free to google it yourself, when I tried last time, it froze my computer and I lost this review.) It was very controversial. It boiled down to this: charity is not so much defined by how much you give away, but by how much you keep for yourself. You know, the widow's mite, like in the BIBLE. But people were seriously pissed off. Wealthy donors to BYU said they would not continue to contribute funds unless he was fired. Crazy stuff like that.

I agree with him. Giving a $10 million endowment to something, but keeping $2 billion leftover for yourself is not that impressive. And for your $10 million token, you get a building named in your honor, banquets for you, and news stories all over the community declaring you as awesome. Wouldn't you or I donate $100 for something like that? It's the equivalent for them. (According to some social theorists (I was a sociology major), the only true gift is an anonymous one. If you give it to someone and get the thanks and praise, you got something in return. The only way to really give a gift is to secretly do it and not get the credit. Kind of like parents wrap gifts for their kids and say Santa brought them, perhaps. Oh, wait. I guess they do get recognized, it's just delayed until the kids learn that their parents were Santa. Never mind!)

I realize how completely filled with blame I am. I am exactly like the richies in the book. I pay tithing and fast offerings. I donate to the Perpetual Education Fund and the church's Humanitarian Fund. But do I give enough to make it really hurt? Do I starve because of it? Couldn't the leftover food I toss out each year feed hundreds of people in another country? Hey, I didn't even give my kid anything for Christmas and pretend it was from Santa. (He was only a year old, anyways.) I did, however, find some toys he already had that I didn't think my mother in law had seen, and wrapped them up. I made sure he unwrapped them in front of her so that she wouldn't think I didn't get my kid anything for Christmas. She would've been mortified.

We are all too rich. We are all to greedy and dumb with our money. How depressing! Maybe I'll go rescue a cat from the shelter to feel better. Dale's out of town with the scouts, so he can't stop me. Ha ha!!!!!
]]> 27790905 Sun, 20 Jul 2008 14:27:16 -0700
They live on the island alone. Then, her brother gets eaten by wolves. (I remember thinking at this point, darn it! I bet she wishes she hadn't stayed now. If he was just going to get eaten by wolves either way, she might as well have stayed on the boat and be eating fresh sea bass right now.)

Finally, she leaves the island. I recall it being many years later. She put a bunch of paint on her face and got dressed all pretty, because she was old enough to date by then, and thought there might be a cute guy on the rescue boat or something.

If I recall, her people had disappeared and no one knew what had happened to them. Hey, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that she missed the boat, after all!

This book was awesome. I read it several times. I can't believe how many books I read and re-read and re-re-read. I could have finished the encyclopedia by now if I'd only focused on reading new things as a kid. (By the way, I LOVED reading the encyclopedia when I was a kid. It rocks.)]]>
author: Scott O'Dell
name: Abby
average rating: 3.89
book published: 1960
rating: 5
read at: 01/92
date added: 07/20/08
shelves:
review:
This book was freaking awesome. I loved it when I was a kid. All of the people on an island are leaving together one day, on a boat. I don't remember why. Anyhow, the main character's little brother got left behind on the shore. (What, they didn't think to do a head count before launching the boat?) She jumps off and swims back to be with him. The boat apparently drives only forward, and not in reverse, or they are in a really big hurry. I know this because they don't come back and get her or her brother.

They live on the island alone. Then, her brother gets eaten by wolves. (I remember thinking at this point, darn it! I bet she wishes she hadn't stayed now. If he was just going to get eaten by wolves either way, she might as well have stayed on the boat and be eating fresh sea bass right now.)

Finally, she leaves the island. I recall it being many years later. She put a bunch of paint on her face and got dressed all pretty, because she was old enough to date by then, and thought there might be a cute guy on the rescue boat or something.

If I recall, her people had disappeared and no one knew what had happened to them. Hey, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that she missed the boat, after all!

This book was awesome. I read it several times. I can't believe how many books I read and re-read and re-re-read. I could have finished the encyclopedia by now if I'd only focused on reading new things as a kid. (By the way, I LOVED reading the encyclopedia when I was a kid. It rocks.)
]]> 24586005 Tue, 15 Jul 2008 07:13:54 -0700
The premise: A+! Way awesome. A guy crashes off of the freeway and gets stranded on an island between the roads. (Or sort of below them. To be honest, I never could figure out exactly how it was set up. It was an island, but big. And there were other wrecked cars, and old ruins of buildings from before the freeway was built. And he was chained in on one side by a fence, and had to climb a steep embankment on the other. I think.) He tries to escape, but can't. Cars don't stop because it's rush hour on the freeway. Then people think he's just a homeless guy and won't stop for him. Then he tries to run across the freeway and falls victim to a hit and run, which shove him BACK onto the island, no longer able to climb to freedom due to injuries. And he stays there, for days and days and days, surviving off fast food people toss from their cars. Then he finds out other people are on the island, too. Oooh, spooky.

Actual book: D-. Not my type of book. Sounded great, but was strange strange strange. I wouldn't really suggest it for anyone, just because it was weird and hard to follow.

But on the awesome side, it did make me start thinking of personal survival tactics for if I ever become stranded/homeless/jobless/shelterless. I used to think of these things all the time as a kid. Here are my survival tactics (albeit not for a "concrete island", but survival nonetheless):

I would sleep on the street near a wedding reception center and sneak in, pretending to know either the bride or groom, depending on who I met. Seriously, think of the free food each night! And cake! Every night I would have cake. I would be the chubbiest homeless girl around.

I would shower/bathe in public bathroom restroom sinks each morning, before anyone got there. (I'd probably barricade the door first, too.) I once read about a wealthy self made entrepreneur couple who moved here from another country - probably a foreign one, I forget which. Anyways, before they made it big they slept in the back room of the store where they worked, and got up really early to bathe/shave/brush teeth using sink water in the public restrooms. No one guessed. I could do that, too.

I'd live at the airport. It never closes. I could return the carts for $1 a piece and live like a queen!

I'd beg on the streets for cash. You have no idea how good I actually am at this. Once, when I was a freshman at BYU, I stood on the corner when people were arriving at the BYU/U of U football game and asked for donations for a Sub for Santa thing my class was doing. I got so much money! It was like, $150. The next best TEAM (of four people!) got like $115 cmobined. Did I win a cash prize or anything, though? Nope. I did get to take a bow in class, though. So anyways, begging for money and me are like the dream team.

I would go into restaurants and order a big meal. Then I would pretend I had to use the bathroom and sneak out. THEN, someday when I was rich, I would come and find all the waiters/waitresses that I had jipped out of a tip and give them a million dollars or buy them a yacht.

I would hang out behind restaurants and cafeterias and wait for them to dump their food at night. Once I worked at Taco Bell at closing, and we'd throw out SO much food at night it was ridiculous. I would wait for it. Another survival tactic would be to actually get a job closing up at Taco Bell, and then I could take the food without it going in the trash first. However, that would make me no longer "jobless" and make it not fit into this category of survival tactics.

I'd probably borrow books from the library, even though I wouldn't have a library card (since I have no address). I would return them. I was shocked and horrified once when my friend told me her dad does that all the time to libraries that he doesn't want to pay $70 to get a non-resident library card for. He was Mormon and everything, I mean! But as a homeless person, I think it sounds like a great idea. Not to survive, but because I like to read.

Finally, I could live for weeks off of free samples at Sam's Club and Costco. You don't actually have to be a member to go in, just to buy stuff at their listed prices. This membership thing would not affect me, since I would never buy anything. Just free samples!

The end.

PS. This is a long review. That's because I had multiple ways to take this review and couldn't pick which one I wanted. Here is my serious review:

This book made me think of it as a metaphor for depression. I mean, the guy is there, suffering and in pain, starving slowly to death, while the world whizzes by unnoticing. Probably a million people probably drove within feet of him, including his wife once, but never saw him there. I think it's a perfect way to describe depression, where you are suffering and dying inside, but people (even those closest to you) may completely miss it.

Never having really been depressed (unless you count when Derek Peterson asked out Becky Thurgood instead of me in 6th grade), I may not be the best to decide it's a comparison. But it seems logical to me. I wonder if the author thought about that while he was writing the book or not. ]]>
author: J.G. Ballard
name: Abby
average rating: 3.76
book published: 2001
rating: 2
read at:
date added: 07/15/08
shelves:
review:
This book was strange. And weird. Here is my review:

The premise: A+! Way awesome. A guy crashes off of the freeway and gets stranded on an island between the roads. (Or sort of below them. To be honest, I never could figure out exactly how it was set up. It was an island, but big. And there were other wrecked cars, and old ruins of buildings from before the freeway was built. And he was chained in on one side by a fence, and had to climb a steep embankment on the other. I think.) He tries to escape, but can't. Cars don't stop because it's rush hour on the freeway. Then people think he's just a homeless guy and won't stop for him. Then he tries to run across the freeway and falls victim to a hit and run, which shove him BACK onto the island, no longer able to climb to freedom due to injuries. And he stays there, for days and days and days, surviving off fast food people toss from their cars. Then he finds out other people are on the island, too. Oooh, spooky.

Actual book: D-. Not my type of book. Sounded great, but was strange strange strange. I wouldn't really suggest it for anyone, just because it was weird and hard to follow.

But on the awesome side, it did make me start thinking of personal survival tactics for if I ever become stranded/homeless/jobless/shelterless. I used to think of these things all the time as a kid. Here are my survival tactics (albeit not for a "concrete island", but survival nonetheless):

I would sleep on the street near a wedding reception center and sneak in, pretending to know either the bride or groom, depending on who I met. Seriously, think of the free food each night! And cake! Every night I would have cake. I would be the chubbiest homeless girl around.

I would shower/bathe in public bathroom restroom sinks each morning, before anyone got there. (I'd probably barricade the door first, too.) I once read about a wealthy self made entrepreneur couple who moved here from another country - probably a foreign one, I forget which. Anyways, before they made it big they slept in the back room of the store where they worked, and got up really early to bathe/shave/brush teeth using sink water in the public restrooms. No one guessed. I could do that, too.

I'd live at the airport. It never closes. I could return the carts for $1 a piece and live like a queen!

I'd beg on the streets for cash. You have no idea how good I actually am at this. Once, when I was a freshman at BYU, I stood on the corner when people were arriving at the BYU/U of U football game and asked for donations for a Sub for Santa thing my class was doing. I got so much money! It was like, $150. The next best TEAM (of four people!) got like $115 cmobined. Did I win a cash prize or anything, though? Nope. I did get to take a bow in class, though. So anyways, begging for money and me are like the dream team.

I would go into restaurants and order a big meal. Then I would pretend I had to use the bathroom and sneak out. THEN, someday when I was rich, I would come and find all the waiters/waitresses that I had jipped out of a tip and give them a million dollars or buy them a yacht.

I would hang out behind restaurants and cafeterias and wait for them to dump their food at night. Once I worked at Taco Bell at closing, and we'd throw out SO much food at night it was ridiculous. I would wait for it. Another survival tactic would be to actually get a job closing up at Taco Bell, and then I could take the food without it going in the trash first. However, that would make me no longer "jobless" and make it not fit into this category of survival tactics.

I'd probably borrow books from the library, even though I wouldn't have a library card (since I have no address). I would return them. I was shocked and horrified once when my friend told me her dad does that all the time to libraries that he doesn't want to pay $70 to get a non-resident library card for. He was Mormon and everything, I mean! But as a homeless person, I think it sounds like a great idea. Not to survive, but because I like to read.

Finally, I could live for weeks off of free samples at Sam's Club and Costco. You don't actually have to be a member to go in, just to buy stuff at their listed prices. This membership thing would not affect me, since I would never buy anything. Just free samples!

The end.

PS. This is a long review. That's because I had multiple ways to take this review and couldn't pick which one I wanted. Here is my serious review:

This book made me think of it as a metaphor for depression. I mean, the guy is there, suffering and in pain, starving slowly to death, while the world whizzes by unnoticing. Probably a million people probably drove within feet of him, including his wife once, but never saw him there. I think it's a perfect way to describe depression, where you are suffering and dying inside, but people (even those closest to you) may completely miss it.

Never having really been depressed (unless you count when Derek Peterson asked out Becky Thurgood instead of me in 6th grade), I may not be the best to decide it's a comparison. But it seems logical to me. I wonder if the author thought about that while he was writing the book or not.
]]> 25843180 Thu, 10 Jul 2008 11:38:43 -0700
It's all about a modern Jewish girl who is transported back in time where she lives as a Jewish girl during the Holocaust, and lives in a concentration camp. She is friends there with a girl who in the future turns out to be her aunt. She comes back with an incredible understanding and respect for her older relatives who survived the camps.

So anyways, this book is a great book, especially for a young girl. I have forever and ever thought about this book whenever I heard any reference to the Holocaust. I went to the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC and thought about this book. I found out that my grandpa helped liberate a concentration camp and thought about this book. I learned that my dad's step mom was German and forced to be a nurse for the Nazis against her will, and thought about this book. I see a swaztika and I think about this book. Everything I think about the Nazis and Jews goes back to this book when I was a kid. It's definitely worth reading, even if you're a grown up.]]>
author: Jane Yolen
name: Abby
average rating: 4.18
book published: 1988
rating: 5
read at: 07/08
date added: 07/10/08
shelves:
review:
This is a good book. When I read it as a 12 year old(ish) girl, it was a big long epic novel about the holocaust. This time, it seemed more like an extended short story about the holocaust, but I still really liked it.

It's all about a modern Jewish girl who is transported back in time where she lives as a Jewish girl during the Holocaust, and lives in a concentration camp. She is friends there with a girl who in the future turns out to be her aunt. She comes back with an incredible understanding and respect for her older relatives who survived the camps.

So anyways, this book is a great book, especially for a young girl. I have forever and ever thought about this book whenever I heard any reference to the Holocaust. I went to the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC and thought about this book. I found out that my grandpa helped liberate a concentration camp and thought about this book. I learned that my dad's step mom was German and forced to be a nurse for the Nazis against her will, and thought about this book. I see a swaztika and I think about this book. Everything I think about the Nazis and Jews goes back to this book when I was a kid. It's definitely worth reading, even if you're a grown up.
]]> 25844734 Sun, 29 Jun 2008 14:20:46 -0700
It was actually better than my review made it sound, though. I was in love with this book.

PS. I think I read it four times trying to figure out what the title had to do with the book, and I think I never figured it out. Anyone know?]]>
author: Robert C. O'Brien
name: Abby
average rating: 3.55
book published: 1987
rating: 5
read at: 01/94
date added: 06/29/08
shelves:
review:
I read this book in Jr High at least twice. Maybe even thrice, or frice. It was just an awesome book. Some girl survives in a valley when a nuclear war kills everyone else in the world. Then some crazy guy stumbles into her valley in a radiation suit. Then she steals his suit and leaves to look for more survivors. Then it ends.

It was actually better than my review made it sound, though. I was in love with this book.

PS. I think I read it four times trying to figure out what the title had to do with the book, and I think I never figured it out. Anyone know?
]]> 25843644 Sun, 29 Jun 2008 14:17:24 -0700
So anyways, this has to be one of the best books ever written, of all time. I read it 500 times (I could be exaggerating) between 3rd and 5th grade. I LOVED this book. I still have it.

It's about a girl named Jennifer who falls asleep on the school bus one day, only to awaken to find herself in a strange land where everyone calls her a princess! And she meets mysterious and interesting people. Then it turns bad. Because actually, the people take some sleeping girl every year (for the past 7 years - hence, she is the "Seventh Princess",) and send her off to some wicked witch that lives somewhere else. I think she's a witch, at least. Then she turns them into harpies (these mystical flying creatures), and she's mean to everybody.

So Jennifer is a hero and fights the witch lady, saves the day, and returns all the other princesses to their homes.

Once I tried to explain this awesome book to Dale (my husband), and he said it sounded dumb. Apparently he is retarded. This book was awesome!

This reminds me about one time when Dale asked me what teenage girls fantasize about. I said, "Well, I would fantasize that I was a beautiful princess. And I had evil, wicked parents for the king and queen of my land, who I hated. One day, I'd get kidnapped and held for ransom by these people who are trying to stop my wicked parents. One of the captors is a handsome prince from another far off land, whose family was dethroned by my evil parents. He is in charge of being my personal bodyguard while we travel. He thinks I am so beautiful, but he knows he cannot possibly fall in love with the princess of the wicked kingdom whose parents they are holding me ransom from.

Then something happens and we are ambushed, and we run off into the forest together, just me and him. I kind of have a Stockholm Syndrome thing going, and I have come to agree with him that my parents are evil. Particularly my mother. We try to resist, but we are pulled to each other. We make out in a tent. (I don't know where the tent comes from in the fantasy, but I don't like the idea of rolling around just on the floor of the forest. Pine needles are very pokey.)

Anyways, we fall in love, maybe we make out some more (or do other stuff, too, and it's awesome), and then we go back together and save the kingdom from my wicked mother and we rule as king and queen over an enormous kingdom (his old kingdom, plus mine combined), and I have lots and lots of beautiful dresses. And then we live happily ever after."

Dale seemed a little confused by my high school girl love fantasies. I think he said, "When I was a teenage boy, I used to imagine how awesome it would be to come home and have a naked girl in my bed. That's about it."

So anyways, obviously Dale never read my favorite book ever, The Seventh Princess. And that is why he will never understand why every girl, ever, period, wants to be a princess.
]]>
author: Nick Sullivan
name: Abby
average rating: 4.50
book published: 2001
rating: 5
read at: 01/91
date added: 06/29/08
shelves:
review:
Okay, I was sitting in church today, thinking about writing a review for this book online. I would have listened to the speakers, except...they were boring. I'm sorry! They are nice people. But really boring.

So anyways, this has to be one of the best books ever written, of all time. I read it 500 times (I could be exaggerating) between 3rd and 5th grade. I LOVED this book. I still have it.

It's about a girl named Jennifer who falls asleep on the school bus one day, only to awaken to find herself in a strange land where everyone calls her a princess! And she meets mysterious and interesting people. Then it turns bad. Because actually, the people take some sleeping girl every year (for the past 7 years - hence, she is the "Seventh Princess",) and send her off to some wicked witch that lives somewhere else. I think she's a witch, at least. Then she turns them into harpies (these mystical flying creatures), and she's mean to everybody.

So Jennifer is a hero and fights the witch lady, saves the day, and returns all the other princesses to their homes.

Once I tried to explain this awesome book to Dale (my husband), and he said it sounded dumb. Apparently he is retarded. This book was awesome!

This reminds me about one time when Dale asked me what teenage girls fantasize about. I said, "Well, I would fantasize that I was a beautiful princess. And I had evil, wicked parents for the king and queen of my land, who I hated. One day, I'd get kidnapped and held for ransom by these people who are trying to stop my wicked parents. One of the captors is a handsome prince from another far off land, whose family was dethroned by my evil parents. He is in charge of being my personal bodyguard while we travel. He thinks I am so beautiful, but he knows he cannot possibly fall in love with the princess of the wicked kingdom whose parents they are holding me ransom from.

Then something happens and we are ambushed, and we run off into the forest together, just me and him. I kind of have a Stockholm Syndrome thing going, and I have come to agree with him that my parents are evil. Particularly my mother. We try to resist, but we are pulled to each other. We make out in a tent. (I don't know where the tent comes from in the fantasy, but I don't like the idea of rolling around just on the floor of the forest. Pine needles are very pokey.)

Anyways, we fall in love, maybe we make out some more (or do other stuff, too, and it's awesome), and then we go back together and save the kingdom from my wicked mother and we rule as king and queen over an enormous kingdom (his old kingdom, plus mine combined), and I have lots and lots of beautiful dresses. And then we live happily ever after."

Dale seemed a little confused by my high school girl love fantasies. I think he said, "When I was a teenage boy, I used to imagine how awesome it would be to come home and have a naked girl in my bed. That's about it."

So anyways, obviously Dale never read my favorite book ever, The Seventh Princess. And that is why he will never understand why every girl, ever, period, wants to be a princess.

]]> 25794780 Sat, 28 Jun 2008 20:51:33 -0700
So I stopped reading books for English classes after that. Instead I started listening to the teachers discuss them in class so that I knew enough to fake an essay about it on the exams. I was a REALLY good essay faker. I think I got a 4 on the AP English test, never having read a single thing the whole year. (Ok, I exaggerate. I might have read a few book covers.)
]]>
author: John Steinbeck
name: Abby
average rating: 3.93
book published: 1939
rating: 2
read at: 01/98
date added: 06/28/08
shelves:
review:
Like, one time in my life, I actually finished a book I was assigned to read for an English class. Unfortunately, it was this one! At the very end, if I am remembering the right book, some girl character breastfeeds everybody who is starving to death. ICK ICK ICK!

So I stopped reading books for English classes after that. Instead I started listening to the teachers discuss them in class so that I knew enough to fake an essay about it on the exams. I was a REALLY good essay faker. I think I got a 4 on the AP English test, never having read a single thing the whole year. (Ok, I exaggerate. I might have read a few book covers.)

]]> 21517897 Sat, 28 Jun 2008 20:23:23 -0700
The whole book swore and swore and swore like a swearing sailor, and then every other word was "Spanglish". I don't speak Spanglish OR Spanish, so I was lost sometimes. I chose the unfortunate time to read this book to correspond with Dale (my Spanish speaking husband) being out of town. Not that it was worth following him around while I was reading the book, asking every 30 seconds for him to translate something. Plus, probably over half of the Spanglish parts were Spanish curse words anyways. And my husband always tickles me when I swear. (And I tend to pee my pants a little whenever he tickles me.)

It just wasn't that funny. Or compelling. How come the author got a Pulitzer Prize? I have NO IDEA. I think it is like the Emporer's New Clothes, where one smart person said it was good, so everyone else said it was good too, not wanting to seem like they misunderstood it. Then smarter and smarter people kept jumping on the bandwagon, trying to outdo each other in their love of the book, until some ACTUALLY AWARDED HIM A PULITZER PRIZE.

I bet the author is laughing at how dumb everyone is. I am the smart kid watching the parade who points out that the emporer is butt naked. Ha, ha.

I hoped this book would grow on me, but I never came around. I tried. I mean, my cat's name is Oscar, so I wanted to like it. But it was lame. Sorry, author dude.
]]>
author: Junot Díaz
name: Abby
average rating: 4.08
book published: 2007
rating: 2
read at: 06/08
date added: 06/28/08
shelves:
review:
This book was kind of disappointing. It had a lot of pages. I'd have to go check to see how many for sure, but only about 83 of them were actually necessary for the story. The rest of it was just filler swear words and phrases in Spanish that I didn't understand. Oh yeah, also references to nerdy things that I've never heard of, like fantasy movies and famous sci fi books. (Because I of course, am the epitome of not-nerdy.)

The whole book swore and swore and swore like a swearing sailor, and then every other word was "Spanglish". I don't speak Spanglish OR Spanish, so I was lost sometimes. I chose the unfortunate time to read this book to correspond with Dale (my Spanish speaking husband) being out of town. Not that it was worth following him around while I was reading the book, asking every 30 seconds for him to translate something. Plus, probably over half of the Spanglish parts were Spanish curse words anyways. And my husband always tickles me when I swear. (And I tend to pee my pants a little whenever he tickles me.)

It just wasn't that funny. Or compelling. How come the author got a Pulitzer Prize? I have NO IDEA. I think it is like the Emporer's New Clothes, where one smart person said it was good, so everyone else said it was good too, not wanting to seem like they misunderstood it. Then smarter and smarter people kept jumping on the bandwagon, trying to outdo each other in their love of the book, until some ACTUALLY AWARDED HIM A PULITZER PRIZE.

I bet the author is laughing at how dumb everyone is. I am the smart kid watching the parade who points out that the emporer is butt naked. Ha, ha.

I hoped this book would grow on me, but I never came around. I tried. I mean, my cat's name is Oscar, so I wanted to like it. But it was lame. Sorry, author dude.

]]> 22184713 Thu, 19 Jun 2008 09:32:25 -0700