Well I'm Screwed

So, I was messing around on Blogthings this morning and I took two quizzes. The first is Which Sign Should I Date?

Your True Love Is a Virgo

Why you'll love a Virgo: Almost perfect and a total perfectionist, your Virgo will do almost anything to please you.Low maintenance and loyal, it's almost too easy to love a Virgo! Why a Virgo will love you: You're totally dependable and discreet. A Virgo knows that you can be trusted.Attractive and a high achiever, a Virgo can appreciate your attention to detail.

What'>http://www.blogthings.com/whatsignisyourtruelovequiz/">What Sign Is Your True Love?

The second is Which Sign Should I NEVER Date?

Never Date a Virgo

Demanding, picky, and a total perfectionist - there's no way you want to live up to Virgo's standards.It's not that you couldn't please a Virgo... you would just hate yourself for doing it. Instead try dating: Libra, Leo, Aquarius, or Aries

What'>http://www.blogthings.com/whatsignshouldntyoudatequiz/">What Sign Shouldn't You Date?

I'm screwed.

S-Project_Little Red in the Hood

My latest submission to the S-Project. Comments and critique welcome.

Little Red in the Hood

I remember it like it was yesterday even though it was far, far away and a long time ago. Red’s mom used to always send Red on her errands. It would be “Red, go down to the corner store and get me a diet coke” or “Red, pick up the dry cleaning, would you, and make sure that crook, Peterson, didn’t over-charge us again.” That day we were hanging in the back yard shooting the breeze, when her mom opened the back door to holler, “Red, take the leftover lasagna to your gramma’s house and be quick about it because I have a few things I need you to do back home.”

Red didn’t want to go. For starters her gramma was kind of strange. She wore bowling shirts and hung out with a bunch of crazy old ladies—dirty old ladies who liked to talk about sex and stuff. When you’re 13 there is nothing more disgusting than little old sex-obsessed ladies, unless one of them also happens to be your gramma. But besides that Red’s gramma would sometimes go out with this weird guy named Ed. Ed had a ginormous head with a great big wolfish smile. He sort of creeped Red out, even though Red’s mom said he was harmless.

“You be nice to Ed,” she was wont to say. “He’s good to your gramma and he’s a good friend.”

Red looked at her mom and set her jaw stubbornly. She actually looked kind of like her mom when she did that, but I wasn’t going to be the one to say so. “Aw, ma, I don’t wanna go. You go,” cried Red plaintively.

“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady,” replied Red’s mom. “Besides, I can’t go. My soap is on. Dirk is about to pop the question to Adrianna, and I don’t want to miss it.”

Red sighed and gave me a look that plainly expressed her exasperation. “Let’s go,” she said.

“Wait a minute,” her mom yelled. “Don’t forget your coat, it looks like rain.”

Red scowled. She hated that stupid coat with its stupid babyish red hood. “It’s not going to rain, Ma,” she said. “Besides Elizabeth’s ma isn’t making her wear a coat. Why do I have to?”

“Elizabeth’s ma will regret not making her wear a coat when she catches a cold and then dies. You don’t want to die like Elizabeth, do you?” she replied snappishly. And then to me, she said, “You aren’t really going to die, dear. I’m just making a point. Would you like to borrow one of Red’s old coats?”

“No thank you, ma’am,” I replied. Red’s mom looked for a moment as if she was going to force me into a coat, but she merely shrugged her shoulders and handed Red the red monstrosity with the baby hood. Red threw the coat on over her shoulders and raised the hood. “Happy now, ma?” she asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Yes, I am,” said Red’s mother, choosing to be oblivious to Red’s waspish reply. “Look sharp. I’ll see you soon.”

Red grumbled the entire walk over to her gramma’s. Now I gotta be honest. Red didn’t have too much to complain about really. I mean, yeah, Red’s mom gave her a lot of chores, but she got a lot of free time still. Plus three squares a day. I’m not saying my mom starved me, because she didn’t at all. What I’m saying is that my mom wasn’t a very good cook. She tried and all, and sometimes, she’d come up with something that was pretty tasty. But usually? Ever had an egg omelet with tofu? Well, if you haven’t, then don’t. That’s all I’m saying. Red’s mom was practically gourmet, and except for her obsession with the soaps and her tendency to dress Red a bit younger than Red would have liked, she was tops as a mom. So the closer we got to Red’s gramma, the more annoyed I got.

“Your mom doesn’t censor what you read,” said Red out of nowhere.

“Yeah, well you don’t read all that much, anyway,” I pointed out.

“So what,” said Red. “It’s the principle of the matter.”

“Okay, fine, you’re censored. But you get gourmet meals all the time. You are so lucky.”

Red scowled at me. “Is that all you ever think about? Food?”

“Have you ever had a tofu omelet?” I asked her, melodramatically.

“Enough about the tofu omelet. I’m sick of hearing about the stupid tofu omelet,” said Red grumpily.

We walked the rest of the way in silence. When we got to Red’s gramma’s house, it was shut up tight.

“Did she go somewhere?” I asked Red. “I thought she was expecting us.”

“I don’t know,” answered Red. “But there’s a key under the concrete statue of the three little pigs, there by the daisy patch. Grab it for me, okay?”

I handed Red the key and she opened the door. “Gramma?” called Red.

No answer.

“C’mon,” said Red, “let’s just leave the lasagna in the fridge and go back home.” Red’s gramma had a nice kitchen. Lots of yellow gingham and a tin full of yummy-smelling cookies.

“Are those snickerdoodles?” I asked Red.

“Geez, eat one and shut up,” said Red handing me a cookie. “Let’s go.”

But just then we heard a peculiar sound coming from the bedroom.

“What is that sound?” Red asked.

I paused for a moment and listened again. “Sounds like someone snoring. Think your gramma is asleep or something?”

“That’s snoring?” asked Red incredulously. “Sounds like a freight train.”

“That’s what my step-dad sounds like when he snores. Seriously, it’s that loud. She’s probably just asleep. We should go.”

“But it’s the middle of the day,” said Red. “Maybe we should check on her.”

“Okay,” I replied. “You go. I’ll wait here.”

“No,” said Red. “You come with me. Please? Pretty-please?”

“Fine,” I said. We made our way down the hallway and to Red’s gramma’s room. Red tentatively opened the door. Red’s gramma was lying in bed completely obscured by all the blankets.

“Gramma? You okay?” asked Red.

“Mm-hm” came a muffled reply.

Red stepped closer to the bed. “You sure? Can I get you anything?”

“Nm-hm” came a muffled reply.

Red hesitated. “Are you sure, gramma? ‘Cause you have to be hot all smothered in that blanket. Let me fluff your pillows for you.”

Red’s gramma snickered funny and then replied in a high-pitched voice, “It’s okay, dear. You go home now.”

But Red had already crossed to the bed and grabbed the pillow at the top of the heap, only to expose Ed and his big wolfish grin. Red shrieked and backed away, still holding the pillow.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” said Gramma, emerging from the blankets. “It’s just Ed. You go home now. Hi, Elizabeth, didn’t know you were there. Go home, the both of you. And don’t tell your ma, okay? She wouldn’t understand.”

We turned on our heels and left as fast as we could. We were halfway home when Red started laughing so hard she had to stop and lean up against a tree.

“Gram and Ed,” she said, wheezing, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Ma is gonna die.”

“Don’t tell her,” I said. “Even dirty old ladies need some privacy every now and again.”

Red considered me for a moment thoughtfully. “Well I have to tell Ma something. She’s gonna ask.”

“Make something up,” I suggested.

And that’s how the fairy tale about Little Red Riding Hood was born. ‘Course nobody mentions how much trouble Red got into for telling the big whopper about her gramma and the wolf. But she kept her Gramma’s secret her whole life.

Life List

Jehara and ChaucerianGirl got me all inspired to make a life list, so I thought I should do the same thing. So I started thinking about all the stuff I wanted to do and I sort of got overwhelmed. I think there's a poem in Where the Sidewalk Ends - or maybe it's A Light in the Attic - by Shel Silverstein about eating an elephant, and how in the world do you possibly eat an elephant. Or maybe it's a hippo. Okay, I need to reread Shel. Anyway, the point is I kept thinking of more and more stuff to do and then I started wondering how in the holy heck I was going to get it all done. I have a lot of faults, and one of them is a tendency toward all or nothing thinking. It's stupid, I know it is, but my mind goes that way more often than not.

So, here's what I'm thinking. I pick one goal to start with - just a goal, something I want to accomplish and I work really hard on it till I'm feeling good about it and then I add another goal. Is that copping out, do you think?

So my goal right now is to become a runner again. I was one for a while and I let stupid little life struggles get me depressed and lethargic and fat. I'm typing that up right here so people can come back and ask me about it. (editing to clarify-please ask me how I'm doing on my goal of becoming a runner again, not about my lame pathetic struggles. I don't particularly want to revisit them, and also expect you don't really give a crap) I know that might be kind of a vain goal, since it's pretty much tied into becoming physically fit again. I mean, wouldn't it be better to work on emotional and spiritual fitness? And the answer to that is sort of. The truth is how I feel about myself physically has always played into my emotional health. When I was running every day I was happy and optimistic. I slept better. I ate better. I was inquisitive and slow to leap to conclusions and judgements. In short, I think my life was better when I was running and I think I was a much nicer person.

So that's my plan. I'll keep you updated. And who knows? Maybe making a life list won't seem so freaking scary when I'm taking care of myself again.

Harry Potter Book 7

I'm sorry, but it has to be done. I'm geeking out. I just saw the US and British Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows book covers over at The Leaky Cauldron. If you haven't seen them yet, go ahead and look. I'll wait.

You back?

Holy crap!! Yes, I do know I'm a dork, but I'm so excited. I think I like the US cover best-much more scope for the imagination. I won't post anything else here for those avoiding spoilers. Just wanted to say YAY!!! And do a little jig of joy.

Jury Deadlocked: Hamlet Remanded to Pages of Literature

So yesterday while reading the paper I came across a little blurb describing a performance at the Kennedy Center in which Hamlet was placed on trial for the murder of Polonius. Apparently, this has been done before in various parts of the US. Ruth Bader Ginsberg was part of the Washington jury about 15 years ago and "thought Hamlet quite sane and possibly also culpable in driving Ophelia to suicide." It's an unscripted performance in which actual lawyers act as prosecution and defense. This performance was tried by an actual Supreme Court justice, Anthony Kennedy, which just totally rocks. I would have loved to see this.

Here's a Reuters story about it.

Fun With Monsters

I got up yesterday at 4:30 (ish) in the morning to take my step-mother to the hospital for surgery. Minor surgery, but still the kind that requires an anesthesiologist and generally produces at least a low-level panic in the victim/patient (which ever way you look at things). Random thoughts and moments from my long day—

4:30 a.m. - Alarm. Damn. I’ll get up in a minute.

4:40 a.m. - Fine. I’m awake. Stupid freaking surgery.

5:10 a.m. - I really like driving this hour of the day. Well, okay, not as much as I enjoy being asleep this hour of the day, but we were on major highways, and there were hardly any other cars on the road. I tell my stepmother I should get a job where I go to work at 5:00 a.m. and leave at 2:00 p.m. before traffic begins sucking. She laughs hysterically at the idea of me actually getting up that early every morning and then thanks me for the distraction.

5:40 a.m. - We are sitting at the registration booth at the Emergency room of Baylor Medical. We have to check in here because the front desk will not open for another 2 hours and 20 minutes. The monster realizes that she forgot to “mark her foot” with ink. While I am slightly disturbed that they need her to remind them which foot they are operating on, she grosses out both the receptionist and me by sticking her bare foot on the desk, grabbing the pen attached to the sign in clipboard and marking a big black ‘X’ on her right foot. The receptionist says nothing, but at as we walk to the lab, I see her toss the pen and attach a new one to the clipboard.

6:45 a.m. – An orderly whisks the monster away and directs me to the waiting room, where another family has already gathered. They are passing time by talking about American Idol (they like Doolittle best—I haven’t seen it this year, so can’t comment). I pretend to be reading the newspaper, but am actually eavesdropping like crazy. I was in this scene study class with Betty Buckley and one of our assignments was to observe someone in a waiting room and then come back and interpret it. It felt creepy then, and still feels creepy. It occurs to me that I am a creep. I am now embarrassed and begin reading the newspaper in earnest.

7:15 a.m. – The waiting room telephone rings and a guy from the AI group runs to answer it. His face falls momentarily and then he looks at me and asks if I’m Elizabeth. I nod and take the phone from him gingerly, feeling irrationally guilty that it was for me and not good news for him. Monster is fine, but they’re running a bit late. They will call me when they start.

7:50 a.m. – The phone rings for the second time. The same guy answers it and the process is repeated as he passes the phone off to me again. They’ve started and will call me when they’re finished. I decide to go eat breakfast in the cafeteria. The café employee looks like she’d rather be just about anywhere else. She takes my order without comment and rings in my sale. As she gives me back my change, she erupts into a massive coughing fit. Turns out she’s sick as a dog and will be leaving as soon as her co-worker arrives. My one egg fried over-hard suddenly seems very yucky. I add an individual box of cereal and milk to my order.

8:25 a.m. – Back in the waiting room, the telephone rings again. AI guy looks at me, shrugs his shoulders, and I go and answer the phone instead. He watches me expectantly and his face falls again as he realizes the phone call is once again for me. They’ve finished and she has been moved to the recovery room. They ask me to meet the doctor in the patient consultation room right away. He is very nice and likeable and tells me the surgery went very well and he expects she’ll be up and about in no time. He gives me a few discharge instructions and we chit-chat a bit longer before he walks me back to the waiting room. He says the nurse will call in about 45 minutes or so and I will be able to see her at that time.

9:01 a.m. – I am engrossed in the October travel issue of National Geographic (Seriously, I want to go to Patagonia) when the phone rings again. AI guy looks at me. I tell him it won’t be for me quite yet and he practically leaps to the phone and answers it. His face falls again, and he hands the phone off to an older man sitting by himself in the corner. I smile sympathetically at AI guy and he heads back to his family to continue their discussion on why-Taylor-Hicks-should-never-have-won.

9:15 a.m. – Phone rings again; AI guy totally ignores it, and I wonder, as I cross to the phone, if this is a new tactic. Maybe he thinks that if he pretends the phone call is not important to him, it might be for him this time. It isn’t. It’s for me. Monster is back in her room in day surgery and ready to see me. I put the National Geographic back in the magazine rack and turn to leave. AI guy waves at me, but then his smile falters a bit, as the phone rings again. I answer it and then grin at him. It’s for him. He takes the phone from me eagerly and I leave the waiting room.

10:00 a.m. – Monster is great. She’s totally mellow like she is on Christmas day after about four whiskey sours. I consider asking for a rent decrease right then and there, but decide that would be taking unfair advantage.

3:00 p.m. – Monster is annoying the holy frakkin’ crap out of me as she keeps getting up and trying to do things around the house. I force her to sit back down and she glares at me before suddenly turning back into nice monster again. She falls asleep in the middle of Ellen and snores loudly. As if on cue, one of our labs, Cydney begins snoring too. I’m hard pressed to decide who the better snorer is. It’s sort of cute.

6:00 p.m. – I consider beating Monster with a stick, but I’m a strictly non-violent sort of person, and besides I usually like her very much. I become really smug when Dad sides with me and Monster gives in with bad grace. She’s not at all tired. Her foot feels fine. But okay, fine, if we want to be that way… We do.

I was so glad when yesterday ended. Today looks to be busy, as I have to go to work after work, but I’m okay with that. Because Dad is home with Carol and he gets to fight with her all day instead of me. That works really well for me.

This Post Brought To You By The Letter 'B'

Another meme from ChaucerianGirl. In her own words:

Yes, it's another meme. But that's because I'm really busy and have been going back and forth between about 10 different things all at once. Amanda posted this today on her blog; it's one of those fun "get-to-know-you" memes that will probably teach you more about me than you all care to know, however it's fun for me to do! All I had to do was request a letter and once received, I tell you all 10 things I love that start with that letter. I was handed an "R," so here are my 10 items I just love, all beginning with R, in no particular order.

She gave me the letter 'B' even though she really wanted to give me the letter 'Q' or 'Z' all because I had the audacity to call her briefcase a briefcase. She think's it's a purse. You be the judge. It looks a little like this except it's black. I don't know what brand, but probably a good one, because she's a purse snob. Except in this case it's a briefcase. Or at least an attache. It's not a purse.

Oh yeah-10 things I love that start with the letter B.

1. Books. Yeah, I know ChaucerianGirl said reading and this could be construed as copying off her paper, but it's a very true thing. Our mother raised us to love books, much to the distress of anyone who's ever had to help any one of us move. I paid a mover last time, though, so he kept his comments to himself. Minus one little bitty, "Wow, you sure do like to read, don't you?" Yes. Yes, I do.

2. Baxter. He's my beautiful yellow lab. One of them anyway. I love Cydney bunches and bunches too, but her name begins with a C.

3. Being on stage. Dude, that was totally a cheat, but true.

4. Banana splits. I've only had a banana split once or twice in my life, but I really love them. I seriously doubt I could eat one all by myself right now, but when I was a little girl and I got my first one, I ate the whole thing. I was really little too and my dad didn't think I could do it. There's a whole story about the banana split with which I will not bore you.

5. Beach. I love the beach. I love the ocean. I love being on boats. Hey! Boats. A'nuther B word.

6. Ooh, and B-word made me think of bitches which made me think of bit-cahs. Two of my favorite people always get cranky when I tell them they're sweet. They say they're bitches/bit-cahs and who am I to argue. But if they really are bitches, then I must think bitches are pretty damn cool.

7. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It's a good television show. Why do I always feel like I have to defend myself every time I say I like it? Oh, yeah. 'Cause it's called Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

8. Bohemian Rhapsody. What? It's a good song. It's especially good when you're with your sister in the car on a road trip. Seriously.

9. Brainstorm. As in having a fabulous idea right when one is sorely needed.

10. Breakfast. Lately, anyway. I actually get up early enough to sit down and eat some breakfast over the morning paper with two truly adorable dogs sitting close by. That's pretty frakkin' close to perfect.

The Usual Stuff

I'm a little grouchy right now because as soon as I get off work, I have to go to work. Apparently, that's a side effect of having two jobs. I'm working at the theatre tonight. Well, sort of working. I'm in the process of helping to train a new box office person. Tonight, he'll be doing everything and I will be shadowing in case anything strange comes up. Believe me, I'm highly motivated to get him all nice and trained so he can pick up a few shifts. I know I sound like I hate my second job or something. That's actually not true. I love theatre whether I'm working in a box office or acting on a stage. And the people at this theatre are particularly nice. I'm just kind of tired and truthfully I'd rather go see a movie tonight. I don't really care what movie-I don't even know what's playing right now. I just want to sit in a dark theatre with a box of junior mints and be mindlessly entertained for a couple of hours. Then I want to go home and go to bed. I'm easy. Not like that. Sheesh. Dirty.

Banned Books

A meme invented by Chaucerian Girl based on the Banned Books Challenge.

Below is the 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990 - 2000. Read any? Bold them. Any in your personal library? Place a + in front of them. Any you want to read? Italicize them. Which do you plan to read for the Banned Books Challenge? Make them large. Any you just don't want to read? Make them tiny. And as per ChaucerianGirl, it's okay if you don't want to read a book. Just don't try to take it away from others who do want to read it!


Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz

Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

+Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

+Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling

Forever by Judy Blume - Judy Blume rocks. I read everything of hers when I was a kid.

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson

Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman

My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger - Add me to the list of "hated this book." I didn't care about a single character in it.

+The Giver by Lois Lowry

It's Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris

Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine - My little sister had a few of these in her bookcase when she was a kid and I read one of them when I was babysitting her.

A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck

The Color Purple by Alice Walker - I've seen the movie, but have yet to read the book.

Sex by Madonna - Friend owned it. I read it. Not that big of a deal.

Earth's Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel

The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson

+A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle - This is actually one of my favorite books.

Go Ask Alice by Anonymous

Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers

In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak

The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard

+The Witches by Roald Dahl

The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein

Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry - Have NOT read the whole series, just one or two book in it.

The Goats by Brock Cole

Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane

Blubber by Judy Blume

Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan

Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam

We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier

Final Exit by Derek Humphry

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood - MA has strongly recommend Margaret Atwood to me. I trust her, so I'm definitely going to have to read this.

Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras

+To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Beloved by Toni Morrison - My mom loaned it to me when I was in high school. I really like it a lot.

+The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

The Pigman by Paul Zindel

Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard

Deenie by Judy Blume

+Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes - Was assigned this in the 9th grade and expected to hate it, but I loved it.

Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden

The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar

Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz

+A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice) - Yep, this is sort of filthy. By sort of, I mean totally way filthy.

Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole

Cujo by Stephen King

James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl - Really, they tried to ban this?

The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell

Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy

Ordinary People by Judith Guest

American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis - I have no idea why I want to read this because I'm not really into violence and anarchy, but I've wanted to read it since I first heard about it high school. I'll probably hate it.

What's Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras

Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume - My all time ever favorite Judy Blume book.

Crazy Lady by Jane Conly

Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher

Fade by Robert Cormier

Guess What? by Mem Fox

The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende

The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney

+Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

Native Son by Richard Wright

Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women's Fantasies by Nancy Friday

Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen

Jack by A.M. Homes

Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya

Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle

Carrie by Stephen King

Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume

On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer

Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge

Family Secrets by Norma Klein

Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole

The Dead Zone by Stephen King

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison

Always Running by Luis Rodriguez

Private Parts by Howard Stern

Where's Waldo? by Martin Hanford - Shut up! They banned Where's Waldo?? Seriously?

Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene

Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman

Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

Running Loose by Chris Crutcher

Sex Education by Jenny Davis

The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene

Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy

How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell

View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts

The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney

Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier

I didn't mark any as a "not-interested-at-all," because I don't know enough about them to indicate that. No tagging. Do it if you feel like. Don't if you don't.