It’s difficult to know when to stay and when to go, especially when in your 20’s. Whether it be the city you live in, the job you’re stuck at, or the relationship you’re holding onto. Every decision feels as though your very being depends on it.
I’m currently in a relationship that I love, in a city I dislike and in a job I have no passion for. It seems simple. Quit the job, move out of the city, drag the boyfriend along. Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple. The boyfriend has a name, mind, and opinions and won’t want to be dragged anywhere. Ok, so do I dump all three? There has to be a better option.
My lah-hay-day. November 2012
This is quite easily, my happiest time spent.
I seriously think selfies are great. Every time I take one, I feel self indulgent and vain. And every time I post one, I feel like a huge asshole. But I still do it because it also sort of, kind of, makes me feel a little bit good. Why can’t I say to myself, “You look and feel good today girl - Gehhit. Why not share it on social media? This shirt is also doing great things for your boobs.” I can and so I do.
because this is me and I thought you shouldn’t know.
This has been out since Christmas, but since the skinny guy with the cute smirk is my boyfriend, I figured it deserves a post.
Into Thin Air is a riveting first-hand account of a catastrophic expedition up Mount Everest. In March 1996, Outside magazine sent veteran journalist and seasoned climber Jon Krakauer on an expedition led by celebrated Everest guide Rob Hall. Despite the expertise of Hall and the other leaders, by the end of summit day eight people were dead. Krakauer’s book is at once the story of the ill-fated adventure and an analysis of the factors leading up to its tragic end. Written within months of the events it chronicles, Into Thin Air clearly evokes the majestic Everest landscape. As the journey up the mountain progresses, Krakauer puts it in context by recalling the triumphs and perils of other Everest trips throughout history. The author’s own anguish over what happened on the mountain is palpable as he leads readers to ponder timeless questions.
I find Jon Krakauer to be a thrilling writer and I absolutely loved Into Thin Air. I have also read Krakauer’s, Into the Wild and Under the Banner of Heaven, I loved both of these as well.
Krakauer writes honestly, even if you are not a fan of his writing, you have to give him that. Although not a difficult read in the literary sense, this book is obviously not an easy subject matter. Into Thin Air recounts the tragedy that occurred on Mount Everest in May 1996 when a group, ranging from the most experienced to the least experienced climbers, embarked upon a deadly journey.
Krakauer, being one of the climbers is able to give a first hand account about what transpired on the ascent and descent of Everest. Although, opinions and perspectives are likely to vary, I feel that Krakauer honestly depicted the events that occurred in the mist of a tragedy. I don’t feel he blamed anybody for the lives lost on the mountain, but I do believe he pointed out errors made along the way. He pointed out several of his own and spoke of the residual guilt he felt in the aftermath of Everest, something he didn’t believe he would ever be able to shake.
I find it extremely unfair to judge anybody in a situation like that. Without all of your senses intact and your brain depleted of oxygen how great can your decision making be? Unfortunately a lot of judgements were made and it seems Krakauer took the brunt of it. Despite that, he stuck to his guns and remained honest and clear about his perspective and truth of the ‘96 Everest expedition.
Earlier when I said Into Thin Air was not a difficult read in the literary sense, that remains true (it wasn’t War and Peace), but it was extremely well written. All of Krakauer’s work is. I truly love reading his novels because they aren’t just stories, they’re real events with real people. He gives us a profound look into the lives of some remarkable and some grotesque people, but either way, without him we may never have known them.
Into Thin Air is a great read and I encourage everyone to read it.
Paulo Coelho’s enchanting novel has inspired a devoted following around the world. This story, dazzling in its powerful simplicity and inspiring wisdom, is about an Andalusian shepherd boy named Santiago who travels from his homeland in Spain to the Egyptian desert in search of a treasure buried in the Pyramids. Along the way he meets a Gypsy woman, a man who calls himself king, and an alchemist, all of whom point Santiago in the direction of his quest. No one knows what the treasure is, or if Santiago will be able to surmount the obstacles along the way. But what starts out as a journey to find worldly goods turns into a discovery of the treasure found within. Lush, evocative, and deeply humane, the story of Santiago is an eternal testament to the transforming power of our dreams and the importance of listening to our hearts.
No. No. No. No. No.
Wasn’t this a must read or something? I don’t usually say this, but I hated this book. I really, really hated it. I don’t have a soliloquy of words to better portray my thoughts in some poetic manner. It was just pure shit.
I felt as though I was reading a self-help book. Self-help books are fine (they’re not my favorite read, but they’re fine). What’s not fine is the belief that you’re embarking upon a well liked novel to only be slapped in the face over and over again by a child’s guide to following your dreams. Thanks, Paulo Coelho, for teaching me the secret of life. If you want something really badly and you are determined to get it, the universe will deliver. Barf.
And what makes this, already unbearable, novel that much worse is the moment he fell in love with Fatima. The love at first sight bit. I’m barfing, I’m gagging, I’m unable to control my bodily functions.
I don’t have the ability to stop reading a book once I’ve made the commitment to start, so it had to be finished, but it was rough. IT WAS ROUGH.
SIDENOTE: If this book was intended for children, I take most of this back, but I don’t think it was…
SIDENOTEPLUS: I feel a little bit bad about bashing Coelho’s novel, but I feel better about the fact that tons of people like The Alchemist and he’s a well established author. No writers were harmed in the writing of this review.
Roots is an amazing piece of historical and literary work. Alex Haley takes his audience on an inspiring journey from the Gambia to the United States. A story ranging over 200 years, my resistance to put it down surprised me.
I think what impacted me most was the thought that just through word of mouth, generation after generation was able to recount and maintain at least a piece of their history. Knowing the name Kunta Kinte, hearing the words he spoke in his Native tongue and passing those few words down the family chain, provided Haley with bits of information that would lead him to the answers he so desperately searched for. The griots in the Juffure village who could recount their community history by memory, as though reading from a scribe, was fascinating and beautiful to read.
I remember during adolescence constantly asking my grandmother questions about her life in Brooklyn and those of her parents that came to New York from Ireland and Scotland. I wanted so much then to know my roots. My grandparents are deceased now and so for the last few years I’ve stopped asking questions. However, reading Haley’s Roots, inspired me to continue questioning and searching for my families origin. I believe that knowledge is more important than we may think.
Haley truly honored his family name and all of his family members lives by tracing his lineage and recounting their stories. It felt an honor to read a brief part of their history.
Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that has bought her a few years, Hazel has never been anything but terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when a gorgeous plot twist named Augustus Waters suddenly appears at Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazel s story is about to be completely rewritten.
I feel like it’s been a while since I’ve read a story that encapsulated a time, a place, a feeling - that took me on a journey. I’m not even sure I was conscious throughout the entirety - I was just floating. I read it quickly. I can break it down in hours as opposed to days. It was just irresistible, which I know is strange to say considering it’s riddled with cancer. I think most would know what I mean, though, about John Green’s, The Fault in Our Stars.
The thing is, I think most everyone has known someone who died of cancer. And I don’t mean, knew a friend of a friend of a friend, I mean they actually KNEW somebody. Regardless of age, it’s horrific to watch somebody you love ravaged by that fucking disease. John Green made it clear he knew of it too. OBVIOUSLY, it’s an entirely different experience to watch somebody suffer and to be the one suffering. I don’t think that anybody pretends to know when they don’t. I don’t think this book was meant to be about comparisons and whose had it worse. It’s all fucking awful, depressing, unfair and complete and utter shit, but we all know it to some capacity. We feel for these characters in a very guttural way, which is why many people were moved to tears. It didn’t make cry - I’m a tough nut to crack, but throw a dog in there with three legs and a tumor and I’m mush.
I think it’s a nice idea to think that despite how shitty this world can seem at times, we do have compassion for one another. We do love, and pray, and hope for one another. I think The Fault in Our Stars made many of us get outside of ourselves for a minute and think. Annnnd who doesn’t love a good romance between budding teens?
Sure, a few circumstances seemed a bit farfetched. I consider myself an intelligent person, but I didn’t speak like Hazel or Augustus at age 16. Heck, I don’t now. I’m not in the business of metaphors, per se. I’m more of the ‘say what you mean….bluntly’ type. I think the idea was that they not seem like regular teenagers though. And no, I don’t think that cancer makes you smarter or beyond your years necessarily, but just because they threw around some big words doesn’t actually mean they’re grown up. They both made some dumb decisions and acted immaturely at times. But Hazel, in particular spoke the way that she did because she didn’t hang out with teenagers. She read A LOT and hung out with her parents 99.9% of the time. I recall as a teenager, although avoiding metaphors, speaking more articulately and with a larger vocabulary than most of my friends. I attributed that to the amount of reading I did and the way that my parents spoke to me. “You don’t know a word? Look it up.” I don’t think the characters way of speech takes away from the story. I think it’s important to find reason for it though and I’m assuming that having cancer as a child does make you grow up faster than it does for kids who don’t. Somewhat like a kid growing up in a tough household or in a tough neighborhood.
Although I didn’t mind how Augustus and Hazel spoke I did have issue with how Kaitlyn (Hazel’s friend) spoke. She was depicted as seeming very pretty and perhaps popular, but I know that if a girl feigned a british accent and acted like a 30 year old when I was in high school, people would have thought she was a weirdo.
BUT Green’s choices brought a lot of life to the story and that’s what the book was really about, right? Living.
Richard Papen arrived at Hampden College in New England and was quickly seduced by an elite group of five students, all Greek scholars, all worldly, self-assured, and, at first glance, all highly unapproachable. As Richard is drawn into their inner circle, he learns a terrifying secret that binds them to one another…a secret about an incident in the woods in the dead of night where an ancient rite was brought to brutal life…and led to a gruesome death. And that was just the beginning….
Donna Tartt’s, The Secret History, made me feel like an inadequate college student. Granted, I actually graduated and so the thousands of dollars spent in tuition weren’t wasted like it was for five out of the six protagonists in this story. However, I didn’t sit around philosophizing, drinking scotch, and taking jaunts into the country for some ‘me’ time. I studied and I went to class and my friends didn’t particularly care much about my views on my newest literary venture. Keg stands and beer bongs were more prevalent.
That being said, it was a different world, which is part of the reason I enjoyed it so much, I guess. I’m assuming Tartt made an effort to make it nearly impossible to figure out what era this took place. These young 20 somethings acted more like mid 30 somethings in the 30’s. Although, there were glimpses of things from our time, or at least the 90s that would momentarily and occasionally, clear things up. I believe it took place within my generation (I’m an 80’s baby), but the mystique of it all made it quite interesting.
I enjoyed The Secret History - greatly, actually.The more it developed and the more the characters unraveled, the more intrigued I became. Sure, it was a bit psychotic and farfetched, but isn’t that the point? I don’t think it was necessarily supposed to remind us of ourselves, our friends, or our lives. If it does, treatment may be in order, as well as new friends. It isn’t like my world, but it still existed enough in my world to resonate, but far enough removed to take me elsewhere for 500 or so pages. Escapism at it’s best.
I have yet to read the book, Lone Survivor, but the movie was amazing. I go to the movies at least once a week (I know, scary), but really what do you expect, I live in LA. This movie is the best movie I have seen in quite some time. It was truly remarkable. If you have an issue with crying during movies, i.e you’re embarrassed to do it in a theater, then wait until it comes out on DVD or Netlifx, but I really wouldn’t want to wait that long if I were you.
It’s an amazing story based on actual events - the story of 4 remarkable soldiers and one mission that went terribly awry. I sat in the theater well after the movie had ended trying to get my bearings (I lost my shit and was sobbing). I just kept repeating to my boyfriend, “that wrecked my world. My world is wrecked.” I think he found me a mixture of scary, cute, and scary.
The stories of my sobbing may be scaring you right now and you’re thinking, “bitch, you’re crazy,” but try and ignore that and see it anyway
Wahlberg, Kitsch, Hirsch, and Foster all do a phenomenal job. For me personally, finally seeing Taylor Kitsch get a breakout role was amazing. He’s so talented and has been dealt a hand of shit in the cinematic world, I think this will be his ticket.
GO SEE IT.
Truth. Thanks Evan Rachel Wood.
Bisexuality is 100% real.
I just like pretty things. It’s super simple.