I would just spend the whole time Windex-ing the inside of the glass, and scowling at anyone who touched it from the outside.
It'd be fun to bring a life size decorative ceramic castle in, and constantly mill neurotically around and through it, though.
TIME believes this is reasonably categorized as "Science & Space." Uh huh. "Science." You know, like What Season Are You Science. And someday when we get to Outer Space, we can dangle a pencil over our hands in zero gravity, to see who we'll marry. : P
@Edith Zimmerman The Best Time Someone I Admire Greatly Called My Bluff.
Fire up yer viewmaster: delivery within 36 hours. (I know you're in it just for the waving bears, because who wouldn't.)
@juniper I think they made more money off the cheat books (HUGE, fat volumes) than the game itself.
Really, the best thing about this series is the astonishing way that it manages to
If you'd like to read the rest of this comment, it's $1.99, which covers my opinion of four other posts, as well as a link to (free) animated gifs of bears waving, and a spirited discussion of the pronunciation of 'gif.' You must have a Kindle, a viewmaster, and a flashlight in order to participate.
"it's stupid how beautiful she is. It's like getting a splinter in a hotel ballroom."
On Lionel Shriver on obesity and the surplus of attractive characters in fiction: "The solution is to get a grip and put human beauty in perspective"
I had my twenty minutes of being remarkably pretty in my twenties, and I hated the attention, really resented and despised it; I only felt angry and self-conscious.
Now I am middle-aged and fat, and I am resentful that I didn't relish that brief moment, despite the fact that if I had it again, I know I'd feel exactly the same way. There is no logic to be had in body image, nor for some, peace.
I don't want attention for being fat any more than I wanted attention for being pretty and lithe.
I joke about wishing I was a brain in a jar, with wires running to a printer, but some days I'm barely joking.
Loved these stories, vicariously. They were really evocative of something I only glimpsed.
My sister went to summer camp, for Bluebirds. Which is astonishing now, to think my angry, angry, sister was ever a Bluebird.
She came back fiercely wild, full of knowledge and power that she'd previously been denied as the youngest, least worldly member of our family. She tossed around Camp Terms and horse-riding knowledge at the dinner table, and some of it lodged permanently in our family lexicon: a skimpy serving of food is still and forever will be a Tanadoona Portion.
When we picked her up after her month of making new friends but keeping the old, I was envious of the elevated cabins with four screened sides and the lake, the bit o' honey ponies, but relieved my parents hadn't thought of sending me away to be tormented by Normal boys for a month. I'd never have survived it.
But to be legit crafting, in the woods: that part still makes me envious.
I remember my sister carrying around a beat-to-hell copy of "Bless the Beasts and the Children" a couple of summers later. She was haunted by it. Camp alters people, apparently.
Anyhow, thanks for the stories.
"If you are offshore in a boat, the pigs will swim out to you. But beware: If you get too shallow (like, three feet of water or so), the pigs can – and probably will – jump into your boat and look for your lunch..."
This made me oddly happy, despite the fact I don't want to be capsized, and I want my lunch. I feel like I would laugh ridiculously hard and end up floating, while my lunch was noisily consumed.
@frigwiggin Some are people, but some went right from fetus to swagger, and avoided the whole personhood thing entirely. I'll pity them just as soon as THEY GO AWAY.