I've never cried at a movie and I can only think of 2 books that have ever made me cry. I can now bump that number up to 3. If you haven't read Deadline by Chris Crutcher and want to, stop reading here, because I'm totally spoiling the ending here.

When I first picked up Deadline, I thought it would be a good book about a guy living through his senior year of high school thinking that he would die in a year from the terminal illness that he discovered he had at the beginning of the book. And of course, near the end just when you thought he would die, a miracle cure would be found or he would find out that the doctors got the blood samples mixed up and that the guy never actually had the illness to begin with. The guy will live on into the cliche happily-ever-after.

But no.

Instead, Crutcher spends over 300 pages getting you to know this cool little midget of an 18 year old. Those entire first 300+ pages are told in first person from the sick guy's point of view. You see his determination in making his last year the best yet, his confusion about when to tell poeple, especially his family, about his illness, his excitement when he finally gets the guts to talk to the girl of his dreams, and his regret when he falls in love with her.

And then BAM! Next thing you know, you've passed those first 300 pages and are at the epilogue, where his brother, who was in the same grade, is reading something this guy wrote before he died, at his senior graduation, because our beloved main character managed to die only one week before.

I love this book and I hate this book and I love this book even more because I hate this book. I can't even explain it to you. But you've got to appreciate those books that touch you so much that you cry. You just gotta.

The complex infrastructure known as the felmale mind

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

I love this quote. I have no idea who said it, though I'm sure I could find out. But alas, I am too lazy at this exact moment. Whoever it was had some pretty deep insight, though. Or has had quite the experience first-hand.

But it works the other way, too. I mean, a man scorned is just as, if not more furious than a woman scorned. But then again, in the times that they used language like "hath", it was mostly the men doing the scorning because women were practically bred to obey and bow down to men. But hey, we're women. So naturally we found ways to deal the vengeful death-blow with a polite smile on our faces and no one the wiser.

That's one of the things I love about our gender. And hate. But the constant back-stabbing between women and the rest of the world keeps us always alert. Never a dull moment.

Speaking of women and back-stabbing, what is it with us? Why do we feel the need to not only hurt other people so much, but to do it on the sly, keeping the relationship good on the surface where others can see it?

I know that I do it, when provoked. I think everyone does.

Que triste.

The new Wednsday Night Tradition

Have you ever gone to A&W and got their unlimited Frosty Mugs? They give you giant Mugs that have been iced and let you fill up your own glass with root beer as many times as you want. It's cheap, it's cold, and it's delicious.

Last night a few of my friends and I went over to A&W for the amazing unlimited beverages before heading over to the church for youth group, and, naturally since 3 of those friends were guys, there was a contest to see who could down the most root beer.
I was one of the four who participated, and I drank almost 4 mugs. Since each mug is about the equivalent of 2 cans, that means I drank almost 8 cans of root beer in an hour. And the sad part is, I didn't even win. I took third place.

When we got to the church, we all instantly headed for the bathrooms and threw up our ridiculously full stomachs. I felt much better after that but still not very great.

Though I have to say that if I had the chance to go back and do it over again, I wouldn't change a thing. It felt good to be up there with the guys, chugging root beer, instead of sitting back and only drinking a mug or so like the other two girls in our group.

Desperation

You know how it is when you find one of those amazing books that you just can't put down? The ones that you finish in only a couple days because it's just that amazing? And then you spend the next couple days finding out what else the author has written just for another of those amazing books?

Yeah, I haven't had one of those in a while. So to make up for the lack of ridiculessly good books, I've beeen re-reading all the other ones that I've aquired, like the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer and Crown Duel by Sherwood Smith.

And while these are all absolutely fabulous books, I still really just want another book like that that I haven't read already and know exactly what happens. I mean, as great as the books are, the mystery is gone.

Does anyone have any suggestions?