day three

Another day almost entirely wasted. Spent the more exciting parts putting together outfits on Polyvore.com, and I've made six sets so far.

I've had this tab open for almost an hour and I keep distracting myself reading about Kristen Stewart hahah. I joined this fan community for her on Livejournal and anytime Paparazzi photos of her show up, they get posted online as well as interviews and stuff. It's all mildly entertaining and whatnot, considering I've developed a fat girl crush on her. I think she's gorgeous, though I can admit she's not the best actress. I think her awkward persona tends to come through in everything she does, but maybe that's what's sort of endearing about her. I don't know, I just like her.

Completely unrelated, but I wanted to type out something from a book I've had since I was in elementary school. It's called Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse and it used to be one of my favorite books, though it's a bit depressing. Learning about the Dust Bowl in my US History class made me think of it, and there has always been one chapter that stood out in my memory. It's called "The Accident."

I got
burned
bad.

Daddy
put a pail of kerosene
next to the stove
and Ma,
fixing breakfast,
thinking the pail was
filled with water,
lifted it,
to make Daddy's coffee,
poured it,
but instead of making coffee,
Ma made a rope of fire.
It rose up from the stove
to the pail
and the kerosene burst into flames.

Ma ran across the kitchen,
out the porch door,
screaming for Dadd.
I tore after her,
then,
thinking of the burning pail,
left behind in the bone-dry kitchen,
I flew back and grabbed it,
throwing it out the door.

I didn't know.
I didn't know Ma was coming back.

The flaming oil
splashed onto her apron,
and Ma,
suddenly Ma,
was a column of fire.
I pushed her to the ground,
desperate to save her,
desperate to save the baby, I
tried,
beating out the flames with my hands.
I did the best I could.
But it was no good.
Ma
got
burned
bad.

July 1934

Sorry to drag it all out like that, but it's written that way. Apparently that's what you call a verse novel, where the whole thing is told through poetry instead of prose. I kinda wanna read the book again now after remembering that part of it. I remember that the mother dies in childbirth, and the younger brother shortly afterward. I remember that the father ends up drinking a lot and the main character, the girl, Billie Jo (they had wanted a boy the first time around as well), plays piano until the accident happens, because her hands get burned and she can't play anymore. That's all I remember though.

I have a habit of re-reading old books when I have the time to read, instead of finding new ones. I'd like to read a lot more but I never feel like I have the time. At least not during the school year. Summer should be good for that though. I want to start re-reading From the Corner of His Eye when I turn off my laptop tonight, because Michael reminded me how much I used to enjoy that book. Dean Koontz tends to write the same kind of story in every book but I've always loved this one.

Staying up late to read seems like a much more worthwhile way to spend the night.