Attempting poetry

     The phone rings,
  Oh, who could it be?
         I garantee,
       it isn’t for me.
This doesn’t count as your post, darling. It just hit me so I wrote it.
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"Fresh Off The Boat" – By Melissa de la Cruz

My thoughts:

       I couldn’t go through the torture of finishing this book. Pure anguish was it to read! I’m not a girly girl and evidently the author is — or was trying to be. Sprinkled throughout the narration (it wasn’t even the dialogue!) were the words “like”, “totally” and so on. In short, I couldn’t stand it!! And, generally, I don’t give up on books or, if I do, I don’t write reviews on it. But sheesh . . . I just had to warn you: don’t waste your time on this book! I think I made it to the second chapter when I finally gave up and flipped to the back to see how the ending was. It wasn’t worth it.

All Gussied Up

       Here’s the thing about being a girl: you never need a reason to dress up. Ever.
       It all started when we were little . . . After a couple hours of clothing the glorious Barbie, we think, “how come I can’t wear purty outifts like her?” It’s evident that this isn’t fair. So, what do we do about it? We throw open our closets, rip clothes off their hangers, and send blouses, skirts, and sweaters whirling through the air — all destined to land perfectly on the floor. Since, every girl knows: you can’t create a red carpet worthy outfit unless the articles have spent a good thirty seconds lying on the ground. We learned this technique from Barbie — all her clothes start out as strewn across the carpet, so ours have to go through the treatment as well. Also, (and I’m not positive as to why we do this, it might be the whole inner-Mom-organization thing coming out) we’re always certain to put everything away EXACTLY where we found it . . . where we found it on the floor, that is.

       Old or young, girls never grow out of the dress-up stage. We’re just more secretive about it. For instance, take the time when you don’t see a girl for the 4-ish hours it takes her to get ready. All you know is that she has locked herself in her room, the radio’s blasting, and unless the boom box is too loud, you can hear the crashing sound of drawers being opened and closed. What you don’t know: she’s parading around her room in a prom dress and heels, and the reason behind the deafening music is because she wants to sing love songs like Cinderella without having to worry about someone listening to her lovely vocals. This isn’t a time to catch a prince (or scare one away). This is a time to be a princess . . . and have fun doing it!
       Okay, sure, it might take us a whole 24 hours to finally emerge from our rooms before we’re dressed for some big shindig. But when we do, ya gotta admit; we look gooood.

***

P.S.

       Do you mind me asking a very random question that has absolutely nothing to do with my blog post? How long has the spell check been available on our blogging? Am I seriously THAT blind?!