seriously though, what a mistake i made today. i figured i'd wear them today, to sort of try them out & on account of how it is ninety-four fucking degrees on the fahrenheit scale. what a mistake i made. i walk about a mile to the train every day: i don't have to, but i like to stretch my legs, & grand army plaza is a sweetheart of a train station. flip-flops, though, it turns out, are made of razor-fucking-blades. my feet are a bloody mess, all abraded & shit. i can barely hobble! so much for my whole "i'll wear flip-flops, i'll show you!" plan. what a mistake.
hallowmere by tiffany trent.
i have only just started this, reading a few chapters on the train the morning, but i don't know if i'm likely to continue. there is a certain thing about teen fiction that really gets me, & this seems to have it in spades: main characters who are just little fuckers. the girl whom this story is about is behaving in ways that wouldn't be excusable in a twelve year old, let alone a sixteen year old. just a little bitch! part of the problem with the modern attempt to recreate the fairytale is the absent parent. in fairytales you sometimes get the "her parents were good people, but they died & her shitty step-mom raised her." which is all they really go into it; if the good parent has a present, it is usually the henpecked father. anyhow, modern teen fiction loves to have fucking soft-focus flashbacks to the hippy parents who raised their kid in absolute paradise. first of, loads of those flashbacks just turn my stomach with their saccharine pandering & ham-fisted manipulation. secondly, it just makes the protagonists seems like spoiled little shits. i just want to smack some of these kids around for not having the least lick of decency.