The Brooklyn Bridge

This book was strongly recommended to me, and the title snatched me for sure. Unfortunately, I was overall disappointed. Sentence-Synopsis:   Fangirl is about a girl who is obsessed with Harry Potter and doesn't want to move on to college but she has to anyway and has personal growth. First of all, I really enjoyed Rowell's writing style. Her sentences were crisp and her vocabulary was good enough to keep me interested. She had excellent flow and easily painted a picture of each scene for her readers. She often includes details that may seem unnecessary, but really end up complementing the piece nicely. Having just finished my freshman year of college myself, the story was very relatable. Cather has all the same apprehensions we do, and same dry humor we love to use in ventilation on Twitter. I can see how readers easily connect with her story. We root for her as we would ourselves in her relationships and accomplishments. I was simply disappointed that the story didn't ...

Sometimes I go lovely places and marvel at a geographically different portion of the sky we live under. The trees are majestic and the mountains are big show offs and the air feels lighter. When the environment changes sometimes the thoughts get cleaner and deeper and extremely analytical. So I feel like I've learned another tiny piece about something  I want to be good at and am a long way from doing so. But I forgot my journal, so here's another 212 words into the sea of internet oblivion. It's not about loving each other despite our weaknesses, it's about loving each other because of them. When they have a weakness and they're willing to show it to you, that is a rather high level of trust. They don't want the weakness, maybe they haven't even recognized it yet. But there is a good chance they are trying their best. With the trust, you have the opportunity to help them improve their character and yours by demonstrating patience, understanding, suppor...

So there's that moment. When you have to use the bathroom at your guy friends' apartment, and you're like ew. Just ewwww.*Shiver* No Brooklyn, it's okay, they're boys. Boys just do, they don't analyze spaces. Boys are messy. No big deal. But then you realize, oh my goodness. I'm marrying one of these someday. And that means live in the same proximity thereof. So conclusion: Boys (or messy people): ask your mother if you're rather messy, and if so, enhance your bonus points enormously by working on it in the name of love. Girls (or fellow anxiously OCD people): take a deep breath and calculate priorities. Messy rooms are not rebellious backlashes of evil laughter. They are humane occurences. Wishing you peaceful, strong, responsible and passionate love, Brooklyn