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I was just reading an article on CNN about how high school students have gone beyond baseball cap brims and water bottle labels to cheat. They're now downloading audio files onto their iPods and sneaking the earbud through their shirt, around their ear, and into their tiny ear canal.
Isn't studying the faster, easier way to get the same result?
The odd thing? Teachers who let their students bring iPods to use in class. Is ADHD really so rampant that homework and books and other "I'm done with the test, now I need to pass the time" opportunities seem passe?
So I'm in Target looking for a particular book by Laurie Halse Anderson and I see a name that instantly sends electric currents of warm fuzzies straight to my stomach (the way a homemade batch of oatmeal raisin cookies does or a repeat of a Brenda-years 90210 does).
Judy Blume.
Judy Blume wasn't really my generation. I read her as a seven-year-old in the early eighties, and Are You There God, It's Me Margaret had come out in 1970.
The topic of bras and periods were foreign to me until AYTGIMM. I was seven when I read it, for goodness sake! But I loved the book.
That's not to say there aren't other great Judy Blume titles. Today, the Target cashier saw I was buying Just as Long as We're Together, and she gushed, "That was my favorite book as a kid." Seeing as how she was maybe 16, I guess she meant "elementary school kid." (When you're 30, you start to understand why the term "whippersnapper" is still be used by those with less-than-limber joints who were last called "kid" 50 years ago.)
But it was nice standing across from one another, a beloved book being scanned between us, and know that a whippersnapper 14 years younger than me has the same comfort-food reaction to Blume that I have.
I actually read a few books this month, a first for me since the calendar's had a year starting with a "2" in it. A good book by Lisa Gardner, a speaker at many of the writing conferences I go to. When you meet Lisa, you would never think her brain holds the creepy twists that show up in this kind of book.
If you're in the mood for a good psychological thriller with a female who may or may not be the bad guy, this is the read for you. (And a MUCH better read than James Patterson's Honeymoon, the last book I read with a female villain.)
The speed of light is 299 792 458 m/s.
The speed of sound is 340.29 m/s.
The speed at which I post my blog? Once a month. I have my reasons for the turtle-like pace. One of which my book isn't out for another two months. Then I'll have to be more responsible. Maybe post two times a month.
:o)
So I just survived my first Class 2 Hurricane AND an evacuation. In Arizona, I had experienced neither. Sure, there was the time my high school canceled classes for the day when the air conditioner broke. But other than that, weather hasn't played a big role in my life. That's sorta why I decided to move to New England, for weather. And trees. And 120-degree-less days.
I sure got it. As well as the ocean shoving past the houses across the street and slushing past the front of this house.
While this was happening here, Boston was pelted with the storm. And the Boston Marathon hailed a winner. Somehow, I don't think Kenya's Robert Cheruiyot has dealt with New England weather too much, either.
I was just reading an article on CNN about how high school students have gone beyond baseball cap brims and water bottle labels to cheat. They're now downloading audio files onto their iPods and sneaking the earbud through their shirt, around their ear, and into their tiny ear canal.
