At some point in my sophomore year of high school, I randomly bought a book, Why Girls are Weird, because I thought the cover was neat looking. I thought, in that moment, that I was meant to read this book, because I could identify with the woman on the cover. Black and white awkward dress, a brown paper bag over her head, and a cat in her lap. I didn’t even read the back. I just bought it, along with a couple of other titles that mean nothing to me now. My spending habits were a lot more frivolous back then – the real concept of money hadn’t yet hit me, and I had never been employed.. also my mother happened to come with a visa card and possessed every intention of supporting anything educational. And hey! What’s more educational than reading?
So I bought this book, and carried it around with me for a week or so afterward. I would sit in homeroom, or physics, and flip it open in an attempt at reading it. Of course, I never got passed the first page. I was really into fairies, eating disorders, and Xanga (though I treated it like people treat MySpace) back then. I couldn’t have told you what, exactly, this book was about. So, inevitably, the little orange book found its way onto my bookshelf and was quickly forgotten, becoming more of a decoration than anything else.
Now I’m a junior in college, without a lot of time for pleasure reading, and in the possession of a full (and miserable) understanding of money, credit cards, and debt (along with gas prices, politics, rent, and bad relationships). So, when my mother graciously offered to pay for my first pair of contacts (I’ve been sporting thick rims since 4th grade) I almost tackled her in excitement. The only catch was having to sit for two hours in a grungy, smelly waiting room. The morning of, I grabbed the first book that caught my eye (that I hadn’t read yet) and we headed out the door.
That book, of course, was Why Girls are Weird.
And I have to say that it is now one of my favorite reads since Good Omens. I can’t put it down. And now, I can honestly say, that I completely identify with the woman on the cover – and not because of her dress or the cat. She is nothing miraculous, she’s an average, normal, woman – well… she’s full of wit and sarcasm as well (I laughed out loud in the waiting room and received several dirty looks from the various couples around the room) and is running an extremely successful blog. She has relationship issues, friendship issues, body image issues, etc etc, and a lot of them run parallel with myself. Which I guess is the point – she’s average and easy for any American woman to identify with. Or maybe any woman. Anyway, this book makes me feel sane without boring me. I love it.
I’m pretty sure you would have to live in a country, without electricity, to be unaware as to what a blog is – and even then I wouldn’t be surprised to hear the word thrown around somewhere. Blogs blogs blogs – the new craze (along with Twitter – though that is something far less validated).
Anyway, right. So I’ve never tried blogging… I keep journals and diaries – they’re in various stacks around my room at home – but I’ve never had a blog.. and this book has inspired me to start one. For myself, obviously.
I don’t know enough about politics, entertainment, or whatever else popular culture likes to keep one necessarily about anything. Other than myself, obviously, but yeah.
My cat is wandering around with a discarded Doritos bag in his mouth, meowing. I’m getting distracted.
Hmm…anyway, so this is it.
If you haven’t read that book yet, I totally recommend picking it up. It’s great. I keep laughing at it. Out loud. It’s kind of embarrassing.
-Nyn
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