when women were birds negative review: This does not exist. Stop looking.
is it insane to post a 3 paragraph response on facebook: Yes, yes it is. If you have friends that you have to write a 3-paragraph post to, then you should delete that person. I don’t have a facebook, but once I had a friend who decided she was going to post a science video (that wasn’t actually science) saying that women on birth control are more promiscuous AND choose the wrong guys. I then progressed to delete her with a very hard click, a pounding click if you will, and went about my normal day.
to kill a mockingbird street project: This isn’t real, I googled it. I got really excited. You know how you can get your graffiti artist students to read, let them graffiti the books.
princess bell curly hair: Unfortunately, Belle only had a slight wave and wore her hair mostly in a ribbon. Don’t fool yourself, the wardrobe had a side job holding a curling iron. I can tell. You can always tell. Naturally curly-haired girls always have one straight piece. It’s like our birth mark.
roses are red violets are blue this kafka book is just for you: A library needs this on a shelf filled with Kafka.
holy mary tattoo: Is it bad that I read this like a comic book BAM! HOLY MARY! Tattoo.
I feel like I could post this video alone on the blog and let it speak the volumes I try to speak to my high school students everyday. Today, instead of fighting another kid, a student asked me to pick him up from the cafeteria when the bell rang. Instead of sticking his fists where the words hurt, he used his words to be a bigger person. I told him, we’re dominant on the animal food chain because we have the ability to reason. I told him not to give someone else control of himself because that’s what fighting is. I told him not to listen to his friends who won’t have a fighting blemish on their record just from cheering him on. We have the ability to say, no, I will not be that guy, that girl, that person, that nobody, that somebody, THAT. I will walk into that cafeteria everyday if I have to, through the hoards of students, to remind just one of my students that they’re important, they’re beautiful, they’re worth it. Tell someone you love them today, tell them they fill a space inside you that rings when they speak.
george washington overdue library book: Is this true? Could it be?
velvet petaled whisperer: What does this mean? It sounds beautiful.
best tattooist in canberra for eyelashes: Can you tattoo eyelashes? I wore my canberra sweats today and felt proud for this search term. #1/16thaustralian
bus terminals: Dirty, concrete, lonely, boys in droopy hats and sagging pants.
It looks weird. I think this must be a book about a tree. I would not read a book about just a tree. And it looks like it’s a sad tree too since it has no friends.
dark victorian street: Charles Dickens would be lusting after this phrase.
self-timer bra: It’s a tweens dream, camera bras!
let us dance in the sun wearing wildflowers: I am loving the carefree people who are finding this book blog.
urban style birdcage: This is like opposite’s attract.
book begin with nothing: I kind of want to read this book since I started a blog with that title, without knowing a book was titled this.
freedom books flowers moon: Does this mean you’re a bookish hippie? Do you have knotted flowers in your hair and a colorful, flowing top on your back. What are you reading these days, Lauren Groff?
Book for a Book, Free Shipping World Wide, All $ Goes to Literacy Orgs.
“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we’re reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.” —Franz Kafka
