I wanted to share the OnlineBookClub.com review I did a few months back, but grad school’s taken up most of my time. Check it out here:
I coasted through the cacophonous spectacle of the changing leaves. The Pennsylvania portion of Interstate 84 carried me East. The shifting colors brought to mind a conductor’s baton, the low waving queuing the bass red foliage to begin the movement.
I wondered how the changing season would sound in concert, despite the amphitheater mountains that surrounded me. The vibrato tones, twanging strings, the percussion laying down nature’s heartbeat set against the whistling wind.
I followed the rhythm of the road. Crescendo and downbeat carried my tires through a silent chorus of trees. The rising melody of asphalt and rubber thumped in my chest, and the baton rose call for the firs to shed. A drum of rain drops began to play its part on my car.
A hanging cloud by no means meant that the concert was coming to a close. Only that it would be a more dramatic piece than I thought. Instead of a soothing ambient lullaby, I would hear the hero’s journey and triumph as I made my way home.
The tacky film gives me Spider-Man’s grip as I hold the treat aloft. The stick holds no reprieve from the sweet slime, but my grip minimizes surface area touched.
Greedy grabbing fingers from the previous owner supplements the words needed to request its return, having finished re-tying her shoelaces. The lollipop is longer than her leg, even after the inch that disappeared in her mouth.
I barely dodge her drum major conduction, indicating the next ride she wants to go. Indulgence is the name of the game, especially on birthdays. Especially after missing so many.
A sticky hand grabs mine and she pulls me forward, hurrying my steps. I’m not the only that endeavors to spoil her rotten, I just have less of a chance to.
The noise of the world (screaming wheels, shrieking children, and wallets emptying) intrudes once more.
I plot to get her a sugar stick as tall as she is before we leave. She won’t object.
Her mother’s going to kill me.
For humiliation, depending on whether or not you use your humiliation as a shield, instead of letting others turn it into a weapon against you.
Case in point: http://www.fmylife.com/
Having a public domain to anonymously lay yourself bare about the latest humiliation the the universe has dealt you is an inspired idea, and giving you an audience that either sympathizes with you or not.
I view this site to for amusement, and to remind myself that my life isn’t so bad. I have my own FML moments but have never posted them. I am ever Murphy’s bitch, and he delights in toying with me. Like when the Army tried to recall me, causing me to have to withdraw from college halfway through the semester and owing the VA half the tuition they paid, plus missing the deadline to reapply for the next semester. FML.