Lauren Oliver answers my question

Okay, so ever since I finished Before I Fall, the one thing I can't seem to shake out of my head is WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PEOPLE SAM LEFT?! ESPECIALLY KENT?!?!? So, of course, I asked Lauren Oliver immediately, when I found out she had a Tumblr. I didn't think she would answer though.

But this morning, SHE DID!!!!!!



But whatever! This is some kind of blessing for me, because now I can formulate my own head canons and not be all like, "but what if the author had meant for something else to happen?" 

So in my head canon, KENT IS ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATED! And he's confused. He thinks that maybe Sam had known she was going to die and, because of this, he would feel special for a second, because she chose him to be one of the people she would spend her last day with. But then he'd be angry. Who wouldn't be?! You finally get your dream girl and then a few hours later, death takes her away?! I would pretty pissed. I feel like he'd be depressed for weeks, even months, because I think that's the kind of person Kent is.

Stopping now because I'm going to cry.

Evernote Dump

Look what I found on my Evernote! I wrote this months ago and I don't know WHY. Okay, maybe I do. It's for something I've been writing but lost the will to continue. Hah. This is one of the first scenes I wrote. It's fairly simple, really, and I remember promising myself that I'm going to polish this but I never got around to it, so it's just been gathering imaginary dust in the bottom of all my notes in Evernote. Then I downloaded the Evernote onto my phone last night and re-discovered this one. I'm going to post this out of all the other scenes because a.) I LIKE IT. There's no other reason. Hah. (This might not make sense though, because it's part of a story with an actual plot. Still.) 

P.S. YES, the theory is from HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER! HAHAHA!


"Red, have I ever told you about this theory I've read somewhere?"

"I don't know. You tell me a lot of things." He laughs and faces me. I sit Indian style on the couch, already facing him.

"Someone said that the moment leading up to a kiss is better than the actual kiss itself."


He scoots closer to me until his face is only about 10 inches away from mine.

"The moment," he puts a hand behind my head, "leading up to a kiss," he pulls me closer toward him until our foreheads our touching, "is better than the actual kiss itself."

I can't hear anything anymore. My heart's beating so fast. This is the closest we've been since we've met.

"Technically, we're not violating any of our rules here," he whispers, loud enough that I can hear him. I put my hands on both sides of his shoulder for support. I feel faint.

"No, we're not," I manage to breathe out finally. He pulls me closer again, the tips of our noses touching, our lips so close that all I have to do is lean forward a few centimeters and we'll be kissing.

But we agreed we wouldn't. 

He closes his eyes. His breathing is uneven. His face looks conflicted.

"Whose theory was that?" I ask, trying to deviate my attention from his soft-looking lips.

"I can't remember." He whispers again, after a few short seconds. I can feel his breath on my lips and I fight the urge that washes over me again to just lean in and forget whatever it was we had agreed to.

"This sucks." I close my eyes, suddenly feeling like crying. The feeling of him being so close to me and yet not being able to have him is so overwhelming.

He laughs, or I guess he tried to, because all that comes out from his mouth is something that sounded like a gasp. "I know. This isn't better than a kiss. It's worse."

The struggle in his voice is obvious and I thought for a second, he's just going to kiss me. But he doesn't.

I feel his hand move from behind my neck to play with my hair. I feel sleepy whenever someone plays with my hair, but I fight the urge to yawn. I want this moment to go on forever.

"You know what would be the worst thing to say right now?" I open my eyes and I see his green eyes staring  intently right into mine. Those beautiful green eyes. I want to be able to look at them whenever I want to. But I know I can't. So I took a mental picture of them. They look perfect against the dim light of the room. They're darker and mysterious, like they're hiding something. Maybe they are.

"What?" I whisper, but no sound comes out.

"I love you." My breath hitches and I feel a lump in my throat. I close my eyes again. I'm scared he would be able to read my mind just by looking at my eyes. I'm scared he can tell from looking at my eyes that I wish it was true, that maybe we can just throw our stupid made-up rules out the window, that I can just stop being scared of feeling this way about a guy I've known for only 3 weeks.

"I love you too." I don't know where that came from but realization dawns on me. It was my voice. My eyes fly open to see his reaction but his eyes are closed. A part of me is terrified that I've broken the spell between us.

"That would be the worst response to the worst thing I can say." He smiles and laughs a little. His face is telling a whole different story. I feel relieved, for some reason.

I grip my hands tighter on his shoulder. We're sitting but I feel like if I let go, I'm going to fall.

Finally, after what felt like hours of ragged breathing, he pulls away. I hesitate but he leans forward even more until his head is resting on my shoulder.

"What's our rule again? About no kissing?"

"We cant kiss."

"On the lips?"



I hesitate to answer. We never really covered the limits of the rule. "I don't -" but before I can finish my sentence, he pulls the sleeve of my over sized sweater down, until my right shoulder is bare. I shiver as he starts to plant light feathery kisses all over my shoulder. For a second, I became conscious of the freckles I have there, but he seems like he doesn't care.

I rest my head against his own shoulder. I feel faint and overwhelmed. His lips feel so good against my skin and I wonder how they would feel on my lips.

I remove my hands from his shoulders and wrap them around his waist, under his jacket. The heat emanating from his skin through his shirt feels good against my cold palms. He groans, whether from the action or the shock of my cold palms, I don't know.

He stops kissing my shoulders. He pulls my arms from under his jackets and holds my no-longer cold hands between his own. I watch our fingers as they lace with each other on their own, as if they know they're right where they belong.

"You don't know how bad I want to kiss you right now." His breathing is uneven. I look at him and he's looking at me with a look so intense, they could melt me into a puddle.

I want to tell him that I do. I do know how bad he wants to kiss me because I'm feeling the same way, and it hurts because this might be the last time we'll be seeing each other for a long time, or even forever.

He lets go of my hands. I seem to have lost control of them because they fall limply between us, like they're boneless. He laughs and I giggle. It's a pretty funny sight. "Look at what you do to me," I tell him.

"This is the worst way to say goodbye."

"I know." And I try, one more time. Even though my head's telling me that I shouldn't, and that it's best that we just move on. "Maybe we shouldn't."

He laughs. Not the response I wanted.

"Our three weeks are up."

"I know."

"You keep saying that."

"I don't know what else to say."

"The last three weeks were amazing."

"I don't even know you. At all." I look down, scared that a tear might escape from my eyes. "All I know is that you're smart, funny, you study a lot, you hang around the hospital even after midnight and that I really like you. A lot."

"I really like you too, red." He tilts my chin up with his forefinger and thumb and I am surprised to see the agony in his face. "You're beautiful, in every possible way a person can be beautiful. You deserve so much more than me." He pulls away, and I feel that he's not just pulling away from me, but from my life also.

"Do you know what I've been telling myself during the last three weeks?"

I shake my head.

"That we're just two people who met at the wrong time. The absolute worst time." He stands up and I want to reach out and pull him back.

"Hey, maybe we'll meet again. Someday. Maybe when I've sorted everything out in my life, maybe when you decide that I'm kind of okay." He smiles and I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see his smile. 

"I'm okay with you now."

"I'll think of you, red." He backs away slowly, keeping his green eyes locked on mine. I can't read them anymore. He's isn't close enough. He finally turns around and walks away. I realize he will never be around anymore to actually be close enough.

I should be okay with that. It's a train wreck waiting to happen.

But I'm not. I'm really not.


You now have my permission to laugh.

"I'm done."

While I was studying for Medical Parasitology exam just a while ago, after I tried so hard to absorb all the names of the intestinal and lumen-dwelling parasites and the diseases, I put my book down and said, "I'm done." It wasn't loud enough to be a scream, but loud enough to be heard by my sister who was in the next room. She replied with, "You've been saying that all week!"

I asked myself if I really have been.

Yes, I have.

I'm done with studying, memorizing. I don't want to be studying all my life. I don't want to memorize the life cycle of stupid parasites that cause diarrhea or ulcers. But I realized that all of these, these are exactly what I'm going to have to do if I continue on this career path I chose. Frankly, it's not very appealing right now.

I'm just done with everything. I just want to read, but I can't even do that, because I have to study, so I can pass, and not get kicked out of university. Have.  I can't wait until that time when I can do actually something I don't have to do, but want to do. Like reading, or travelling, or getting out of this country. I don't want to be tied down to something, not to a career, not to a place, not to a person. I want to do what I want, not what people want me, or expect me to do. 

It's stupid how I'm just realizing this now. Maybe if our country had adapted that K-12 system of education years and years and years ago, I wouldn't be having this problem, because I would only be a high school senior right now. Instead, I'm an 18 year old college junior.


prompt: the movie 'flipped' and some guy

If this was a year ago, you would have sat next to me during Trig. You would have asked me what time it is already, and complained how time seems to slow down to a crawl during this class. You would have already started a one-sided conversation with me about the last book you read which is supposed to be 'so awesome.' You would have already asked me about the book I'm reading, and if maybe you could borrow it after pretty please, I'll return it plastic covered. I would have told you no, buy your own copy. You would have started on another topic, like how books are so expensive, it's insane. I would have agreed. You would have asked me if I was doing anything on Friday night, and I, as usual, would have told you I would be reading. You would have said Cool, me too. And then before you can start on another topic, I would have shushed you, told you to listen to the lesson because we have a major quiz tomorrow. And then you would be quiet. 

But this is a year after. And I glance at you from afar in Calculus, because you're all the way down the end of the room, as far away as possible, maybe striking up a conversation with whoever is sitting next to you that day, because that's just how you are. You're friendly and nice and I'm sorry I didn't see that before.

Before I Fall

What if you only had one day to live? What would you do? Who would you kiss? And how far would you go to save your own life?
Samantha Kingston has it all: looks, popularity, the perfect boyfriend. Friday, February 12, should be just another day in her charmed life. Instead, it turns out to be her last.
The catch: Samantha still wakes up the next morning. Living the last day of her life seven times during one miraculous week, she will untangle the mystery surrounding her death--and discover the true value of everything she is in danger of losing.

 I cried in the end. WHY? Because Sam's really dead. I thought for sure she was just in a coma somewhere and she's going to wake up and everything will be okay. BUT IT'S NOT. She's really dead. And I cried because the situation was just so hopeless and unbearable. Sure, during the 7 days of her after-death, she realized her mistakes and went to correct them, realized she'd been blind and that she actually likes another guy, realized that people have baggage and secrets that they carry with them that sometimes gets too heavy to hold, but goddamn it, she's still dead. 

No matter what she does, she dies at the end of the day. I think that's what made me break down. Maybe because I'm scared of death, or the idea of dying. Terrified.

And I thought about the people she left. Especially Kent. Kent, who's been pining over her for years while she ignores him, who finally got his dream girl ON THE DAY SHE'S SUPPOSED TO DIE. That must hurt like a I want to know what happens to Lindsay, or to Juliet after Sam saves her, or to Izzy. 

The ending was so sudden for me. I thought I had a few more pages left but they were just ACKNOWLEDGMENTS!! 

Yeah, I rated it 4 stars because I loved it and when you love stuff, you give them at least 4 stars. 1 star because after I was done with it, the urge to hurl it on the wall was so strong, and that must mean something, like it was amazing and I didn't want it to end.

"I don't know."

Today, I realized that some of my friends are afraid to say "I don't know," as if saying so makes them stupid. Instead, when you ask them something, they answer back with a question, which then someone answers with something else, and then you're just left staring at them thinking "what just happened?" Sometimes, I just want to shake them and shout at them "IT'S OKAY IF YOU DON'T KNOW EVERYTHING!!!!" No one has to pretend like they do, because that should be exhausting. It seems to me like they want to impress people, which stupid, because I think that the people worth impressing don't need your impressing. If that makes any sense.

I, for one, am not afraid to say "I don't know," that when people ask me something and I do actually know but don't want to be bothered, I reply with it. Sorry. But seriously, it does not make you stupid. It just makes you someone who doesn't know one thing. 

I'm just tired of people who care more about what people think of them than caring about what they really are.

WinterHaven Sleigh Tour: Dear Santa Wishlist

Today, I am excited to share my Dear Santa Book Wish hosted by WinterHaven Sleigh Books. Too see who has wished to Santa, go to WinterHaven Sleigh Books for the links to the participating blogs!

Dear Santa,

You of all people should know that I've been nothing but good this year! You should, since you have a list and all, and you probably have a naughty and nice tracker or something. So maybe for Christmas, you could help me cross out one book from my Wishlist? Even just one would be great. I would love David Levithan's The Lover's Dictionary, which I have been looking for everywhere but can never seem to find!!! Or just about anything by David Levithan, except Will Grayson, Will Grayson. I can also accept Realm of Possibility and 21 Proms, or How They Met and Other Stories. OH GOD MAKE ME STOP. Okay. Anyway, that's all. Just one of those would be great! And I promise to be extra good next year. 

running the red

prompt: all too well - taylor swift (GOD THIS SONG IS STUCK IN MY HEAD LIKE WTH GET OUT)

"Cause there we are again on that little town street
You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over me
Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well."

The sound of tires screeching against the pavement of the road broke the silence of the autumn night. She jumped and turned around to see an old familiar Ford braking just before the green light turned red. The driver could have just beat the red and one notice. This part of the town was deserted during this time of the night. Frankly, she didn't even know what she was doing there. Her feet had a mind of their own. Maybe they had missed walking on this town. It had been 3 years, after all.

She started to walk but she saw something that made her stop in her tracks. Or rather, someone.


He would recognize that red hair anytime and anywhere. It was unmistakable. It was her. Even in the pale light of the street lamp, he knew it was her. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be ... away. She had left 3 years ago. He could still remember it, even though he'd tried so hard to forget. He could remember every little detail of that day she told him she was going, her green eyes that sparkled with tears, the yellowing white dress she loved that she wore, her flaming red hair.

Of course it was her.

He turned his eyes to the road again only to see the traffic light in front of him turning red. He hit the brakes immediately, and his old tires made a screeching sound that hurt his ears every time.

She turned around. Even though he didn't even need further confirmation, he proved to himself that even after three years, he still wasn't over her.

In that moment when their eyes met, every significant moment in their relationship which she thought she had completely erased out of her system came flooding back to her. Their first date, their first dance at prom, their first kiss. The memories were too clear. She remembered them all too well. Especially that day she left him. She could still remember the pain in his blue eyes, the red that colored his cheeks, his furrowed brows. The way he asked her to stay.

It was all it took. Just one look and she was back to three years ago.


He managed to smile at her, although every part of his body wanted to jump out of his car and run to her, hug her, kiss her. But his heart stopped him. It was pride, he thought. And he had too much of it to do what he wanted badly to do.


The smile she thought she would never see again, it was suddenly right in front of her. But why did it make her heart feel as if it was being torn apart right in the middle? Why did she feel a lump form in her throat? Why had she gotten the urge to cry?

But she forced herself to smile back. Because he was happy, finally. He was fine now. He deserved to be. She even managed  to wave at him.


He was the first to look away, but only because he looked at the traffic light. Green.

Maybe it was time to go.


Love Story

Oliver Barrett IV, a wealthy jock from a stuffy WASP family on his way to a Harvard degree and a career in law . . . Jenny Cavilleri, a sharp-tongued, working-class beauty studying music at Radcliffe . . .
Opposites in nearly every way, Oliver and Jenny are kindred spirits from vastly different worlds. Falling deeply and powerfully, their attraction to one another defies everything they have ever believed--as they share a passion far greater than anything they dreamed possible . . . and explore the wonder of a love that must end too soon.

The story is just what the title says it is: a love story, and a cliched one at that. It's the rich boy-poor girl angle everyone seems to be tired of already, but it still appealed to me. Maybe because I'm a sucker for cliched love stories.

The plot of the story is fairly simple: boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy marries girl, then something tragic happens. All that happens in less than 140 pages. Reading the book felt like getting little glimpses in the lives of Oliver and Jenny. Nothing is over complicated. One chapter, they're on a date, the next they're talking about getting married. Sometimes, I just wanted to shout "STOP WAIT A MINUTE LET ME CATCH UP!" but I realized that this wasn't a normal reading experience; it was listening to someone recount his love story. When someone tells you a story, they don't go into every detail, they just tell you the ones they remember, the significant parts. That's what Love Story is. Someone telling you a story as if you were his friend. They don't recite each scene of their lives, they don't say what they had for breakfast or what they said to each other word per word. It was a refreshing read, actually.

Except the tragic ending.

Which I made the mistake of reading in school. If I wanted to, I could have read it in two days, but I didn't want it to end yet. Before Calculus class, I only had like a few chapters left to read so I figured I could read it before the professor comes.


Oliver and Jenny goes to the doctor to find out why they can't get pregnant. Instead they find out something else. Jenny has leukemia. I literally had to clutch my chest and mutter "oh god oh god oh god", which earned me weird looks from my classmates. Jenny was going to die, I know for sure. I couldn't wrap my head around it. WHY?! Why did someone have to die!? This was a love story! They're too young, damn it! That chapter hit me square in the face like that stray volleyball in gym class a few years ago: unexpected and fucking painful. And yes, like that time in gym class, I cried.

And Jenny wasn't even dead yet.

Why did  I care so much about two characters who anyone would think would be impossible to know in less than 140 pages? I don't know too. It was pretty crazy, if you ask me. But it just pained me to know that thes two people aren't going to have a happily ever after.

Thanks Erich Segal. For breaking my heart.

Anyway, let me address something that a few people would consider a minor flaw in what would otherwise be a flawless book: the line "Love means never having to say you're sorry." Although I also don't agree with it, I thought that maybe the author just worded it wrongly. Maybe his point was if you love each other and understand each other very much, you don't need words like "Sorry" because I guess you just know ... you know? Ugh. I suck.  I can't explain it properly, but I tried oh well.

Also, this was turned into a movie and I only found out yesterday! The movie was in 1970. Pretty old, but apparently a tearjerker, according to IMDB User Reviews. I downloaded it. Heh.


miserable and magical

prompt: a love story that takes place in winter

"How's your first snow?"

 I sniffled. "Awful."

"How so?"

"It's not what I thought it would be. It was supposed to be magical. But it's only snow cones, but without the flavoring. And I wouldn't want to roll around a flavorless snow cone."

He laughed. "Snow is just not for everybody, especially for someone who grew up in a tropical country."

"I guess. It's just really cold here. I have to put on a dozen layers of clothing before I go out or I'll freeze to death."

"I guess you can't wait to go home, then. You have two weeks and three days left, right?" He looked at me with sad eyes. "But who's counting?" He smiled. It wasn't a genuine smile and I felt it stab right through me.

"This sucks."


"This." I pointed a finger at him and then at me. "Me meeting you on my first trip here, on Christmas break. Me having to leave in two weeks and three days." I sighed. "Me falling in love with you in less than a three weeks."

"I know." We sat there in my aunt's porch, overlooking her backyard covered in snow. The coldness of the breeze that frequently blew over making me shudder. He put his arm around me and I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"This is going to sound corny and I will deny having said it if you told anyone I did," he kissed me on the top of my head, "but I feel like I've been waiting for you, you know?" It was his turn to sigh. "Not even waiting for someone like you. When I saw you slip on the steps and land flat on your butt, something inside me said 'Oh, there you are.' I was waiting for you. Exactly you."

"That was why it took you a long time to come and rescue me. You were having an epiphany."


I pulled away from him. He looked down on me, again with those sad eyes.

"What happens after this?"

"Well, I would go in and sit in front of the fireplace to thaw. Maybe have hot chocolate too." He laughed and stopped abruptly.

"God, I love you." He sighed again. "Seriously, what happens?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Would you stay if you could?"


"Even with the snow?"

"You balance out the misery the snow makes me feel. It's like being miserable and feeling magical at the same time."

"Are you trying to be poetic? Because that doesn't make sense at all." I nudged him with my shoulder.

"We'll figure something out, won't we?"

"Of course we will."

not over you

prompt: not over you - gavin degraw

It started last year. Do you remember? I hope you do so I don't feel silly for being the only one who does. It was pretty memorable, what we had. Damn tragic, but memorable nonetheless. I never paid any attention to anyone and everyone else did the same to me. But you weren't like everyone else. You saw right through me. I hated it at first. Your first attempt with a conversation with me, do you remember? It was during Calculus class and you asked me how I did with my exam. I didn't do pretty good, so I told you it was none of your business. Because who were you, really? Just a random classmate in a class I despise. You just laughed, not the laugh that made me think you knew I scored low in the exam, but the kind of laugh that sounded a tiny bit like fascination. I didn't want to admit it, but I knew I would give anything to hear that laugh again.

The second time was when you sat with me during lunch. My friends were having their own conversation about some guy one of them liked and I was left out, as usual. But I didn't mind. I had my book. So I read, the macaroni in front of me turning cold and soggy. From the corner of my eye, I saw someone sit in front of me, but I didn't know who it was until my friend squealed your name. I looked up and saw you were already looking at me. You smiled and I wanted to smile back. I really did. But I couldn't. Because who were you, really? Not exactly someone I would smile at.

But you didn't move out of our table. Instead, you fell into a conversation with one of my friends. Something moved inside me. I don't know what it was but I now have a feeling that it was jealousy. But why would I be jealous? Why should  I care if you talked to her?

"I like you," you whispered to me while I was doing the assigned problem sets our Calculus professor gave us. I jumped, surprised, and turned to look at you. Your face was so near that if I lean in just a half inch, the tips of our noses would be touching. That was when I noticed your blue eyes, and how striking they were. And your barely visible freckles. I wondered if anyone else in the room knew you had freckles, if anyone had gotten this close to you to actually notice them. You smiled and said it again. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I wasn't used to feeling noticed. I wasn't sure I liked it, but  I smiled back at you anyway. Maybe I could like you back.

"I like him," she told me during lunch. She, being one of my friends. She, being the one who you talked to that first time you sat lunch with me. She, who was referring to you. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to ask if she meant who I thought she meant because I know she did. "I think he likes me too, because he always sits during lunch with us." I wanted to tell her that she wasn't the reason, but I couldn't. Because I realized something. They were talking about you. All the time I didn't bother to listen in on their conversations, about a guy one of them liked, I realized something. They were talking about you. Do you know how long they've been talking about that guy? Too long. Had I listened to them, I would have thought first about getting involved with you.

I told you I can't do it anymore, 3 months after you said you liked me too. A month after I finally admitted I liked you. 3 hours after my friend told me she likes you. I couldn't be in that mess. I should have given it more thought, but I acted on impulse. You asked me if I was going to explain. I told you that I just can't, but that I really liked you. I saw your jaw harden and for a second I thought you were going to scream at me. But you didn't. You closed your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again and asking me, "Do I not deserve an explanation?" I debated in my head. Should I tell you the real reason? That my friend likes you, and has liked you for a long time? That I feel like a bad friend for not knowing? For not paying attention? That wasn't what I told you, didn't I? Instead I told you the first thing that came to my mind: "I guess I just don't like you that much." Your eyes widened for a bit and then squinted as if you were trying to read me. I looked away then down on my shoes. You told me I was lying. I was, but I didn't let you read me further. Because I turned around and walked away, with nothing, not even a goodbye to you. 

You went to prom together, didn't you? It was 4 months after that fateful day. I saw your pictures and she looked really happy. You were smiling, but your blue eyes, your beautiful blue eyes, told a different story. It hurt to see you together. I don't care if that makes me a bad friend, because that was how I felt. I imagined going to prom with you, and how that would be like. Maybe your eyes would have smiled too.

There's a lot of things I regret, like not doing my Biology project earlier, and not eating dinner last night, but one of the things I regret the most was not fighting for you. For being a coward. For being so damn scared of a risk. 

It's been a year since you whispered in my ear how you felt about me. I still see you sometimes, in the hall, and it hurts when you look away, but  I guess that didn't match up to how I hurt you. I wish you just didn't know me at all, you know? That would hurt even less, you ignoring me because you don't know me. People ignore me all the time. But this, this hurts a hell of a lot, because you do know me, and you are deliberately ignoring me.

I know I should move on, but screw the protocols. No one said you should be over someone in a year.

Let It Snow

Sparkling white snowdrifts, beautiful presents wrapped in ribbons, and multicolored lights glittering in the night through the falling snow. A Christmas Eve snowstorm transforms one small town into a romantic haven, the kind you see only in movies. Well, kinda. After all, a cold and wet hike from a stranded train through the middle of nowhere would not normally end with a delicious kiss from a charming stranger. And no one would think that a trip to the Waffle House through four feet of snow would lead to love with an old friend. Or that the way back to true love begins with a painfully early morning shift at Starbucks. Thanks to three of today’s bestselling teen authors—John Green, Maureen Johnson, and Lauren Myracle—the magic of the holidays shines on these hilarious and charming interconnected tales of love, romance, and breathtaking kisses.
Synopsis from Goodreads.

Okay, this is going to be a short one because I should be asleep right now. Simply put: I loved this book! It was a delight to read. Each of the author had their own style of writing, of course, and I had my doubts in the beginning. But throughout the book and the three stories, there were these tiny details ('asshat', the TinFoil Man, etc) that somehow the authors managed to interconnect with each of the stories. I guess that's what made it interesting for me. I kept exclaiming, "Oh yeah that's/he's/she's from that previous story!" It was fun.

My favorite story, and I'm not being bias here, is John Green's A Cheertastic Christmas Miracle (hope I remembered that right). The characters,  as per John Green tradition, were very clever and witty and I wished I was their friend too. And don't get me started on the hilarious-ness of this story! Story time: I read it on my way home one time on the bus because I didn't want to fall asleep, and there's this one part that just made me want to laugh, but being on public transportation, I couldn't. Because that would be embarrassing. So I made that face where you try so hard not laugh and all you end up looking like is someone constipated. Not good.

So yes, it was really funny.

My story I liked the least was Lauren Myracle's Patron Saint of Pigs, simply because I thought the main character was self-absorbed in a very annoying way. I know this was intended by the author and I guess that was her point: to make the reader realize how self-absorbed the character is, but eh. I just don't like how she was portrayed. I would have liked it better if it was told from Jeb's point of view.

And since I talked about the two other stories, I should tell something about the first one, which is Maureen Johnson's The Jubilee Express. I loved this one too, because it was very fluffy and fun. Typical Y.A. romance novel. Nothing I haven't read before, but it was good too. And I loved it.

So there. To summarize, Let It Snow is a great quick read and I LOVED IT.

Reading update:

I'm currently reading Erich Segal's Love Story. I'm liking it so far.

A Lone Rose

Prompt from yeahwriters: someone buying a rose

It was Valentines' Day and somehow he had found himself in the busiest street in town. This street, although lined with florists and gift shops, was packed with men, young and old. All of them had one thing in common: they were shopping for obligatory gifts for the special ladies in their lives:  their moms, wives, girlfriends, or even daughters.

But not him. He didn't even know how he ended up there. He always finished his Valentines shopping a day before the actual day, mostly to avoid crowds. He hated crowds. He would buy chocolates and hide them in the farthest part of the fridge, hoping she would not crave for a snack in the middle of the night and see it there.

He never bought her red roses, though.

He was reminded by this when he was brought back to the present by the screechy shouts of an old man. "Get your roses here! Fresh picks! Your lady will love them!" He picked up a single rose and smelled it.

He lied. Technically, he bought her a bouquet of roses once. It was on their first official date. He remembered hesitating about buying them for her, but he did anyway, thinking she would appreciate the gesture.

She didn't.

"What are those?!" She asked immediately after opening the door for him. He stood there awkwardly, wondering if she expected him to answer.


"I know what those are! But roses? Really?" She grabbed the bouquet from him and led him inside the house. She was wearing a black lace dress that hugged her figure beautifully. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back. She looked wonderful and he thought that maybe he screwed up by bringing her roses. How should he have known? Most girls like roses.

He watched her in amazement, as she disappeared into the kitchen with his roses. He was so sure she would throw them away.

She came back holding a crystal vase with his roses. She set it down on her dining table before she turned to him. "Bring me roses again next time and I will kill myself!" She laughed but all that registered in his mind was that there's going to be a next time.

"Try to get that around because if anyone brings roses to my grave, I will come back to life and throw those darn roses back at them! I swear to you!"

She laughed again heartily and his nervousness at that moment melted away. He realized that this woman was someone he could feel at ease with.

That night, they went out. He remembered falling in love with her that night.

On their third date, he asked her why she hated roses so much. She said she just didn't find them beautiful at all and she didn't understand why roses symbolize love. "It's the lazy flower. Men don't give it a thought when they buy roses! They become meaningless. They should give a lady a flower that describes her, you know?"

So for their next date, he gave her gardenias. Beautiful, timeless, elegant.

"You going to buy that or something!?" The old man's voice brought him back again. He absent-mindedly nodded and took out a dollar from his pocket. He handed it to the man, who eyed him suspiciously. "You sure you don't want a dozen? You ain't gon' get laid tonight with a single rose!" The old man laughed and shook his head.

He tried to smile. Even if I bought a hundred flowers, I'm not going to get laid tonight, he thought in spite of himself. At that, he truly smiled.

He muttered a thanks to the old man before he walked away. He knew where he had to go.

He walked until he reached her new home.

The grass he was walking on felt damp beneath his shoes. It had just rained, after all. He twirled the single rose he held by his side. It had only been the second time he visited he and he wasn't sure he was ready. But he couldn't turn back anymore. He had to do it anyway, and today seemed like a perfect day. It was Valentines' Day. His heart pounded and threatened to burst out of his chest any moment. He looked around to see if anyone could hear it beating so loudly. There was hardly anyone around, except for a woman who had her face buried in her hands, sitting beside a grave stone.

He stopped until he saw the familiar marble headstone that stuck out from the wet earth that indicated that someone had been buried there not too long ago. There was hardly any grass around it yet. It had only been a month.

Kneeling beside her, he placed the lone rose on top of the grave marker and hoped she would keep her promise. He would wait.


Prelims term went from "what's new?" to "WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH THIS SHIT IS GETTING CRAZY!!" I can barely keep up with all my subjects. Just last week, we had a long test for Family and Community Health (that I did not thoroughly study for) and that turned out good, considering I only scanned my notes two hours ahead of the exam. I finished the exam in less than twenty minutes but I didn't want to be the first one to pass my paper so I slept for a while. I haven't been getting any sleep lately.

Then last Monday, we had a long test for Calculus!!! I also did not really study for that. I am now thinking I have a problem. It was okay but you know how your mind completely blanks on that one topic that you did study for and then you're left staring at your exam paper and praying to the God of Remembering Something (if there is such a god)? It happened to me. I wanted to cry because I actually studied for that one topic but I forgot!!! Also, I had the sniffles. The silence in the exam room was occasional broken by the sound of me trying to keep my snot inside my nose. It was embarrassing.

And also, we studied how to take someone's vital signs in FamComm Lab. I struggled. Not so much with the how to wash your hands properly, but with the temperature taking and blood pressure taking and the pulse rate taking and the respiratory rate taking. Mostly with the BP and pulse rate taking.

I could not for the life of me locate the pulse of my partner. It took me about 5 minutes and I honestly wanted to just pretend that I finally felt it and just blurt out a random number that would fall in the normal pulse rate range of an adult.

I struggled so much with how to take a blood pressure. I could cry. Why can't we just use digital sphygmomanometer?!?!?!? I borrowed my friend's sphygmo so I can practice on everyone in my house right now.

I still can't do it. We have a practical exam on Monday. We have to take all the vital signs in 2 minutes.


5/5 stars!
We have a long test for Genetics tomorrow. Why am I online?


I finally finished I Hunt Killers!!!!!


It's actually pretty good. Please don't consider my slowness and laziness in reading this book as an indication that this isn't a good book, because it really is. Towards the end, I couldn't put it down anymore and I read it all night even though I needed to get up early the next day.

I can't wait for the next book because the ending is a major cliffhanger! I wanted to throw the book across the room when I was done with it BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO UNTIL THE NEXT BOOK I'M DYING HERE WITH ANTICIPATION AND SUSPENSE THIS IS WHY I HATE READING SERIES


I also bought a new book: Lauren Oliver's Before I Fall

I bought this last weekend. I was originally going to buy David Levithan's Lovers Dictionary, but I couldn't find it anywhere! So frustrating. Anyway, I also considered buying Jay Asher and Carolyn Mackler's The Future of Us but I left that bookstore because I thought I'd go to another mall and see if they had LD in the bookstores there.

They didn't. And they didn't have The Future of Us too.

So I bought this instead because it's on my Wishlist! I also considered buying Gayle Forman's If I Stay, but I don't know, I felt like I should buy this first. For some reason. I could always come back for it next weekend.


Yes, that means I have Paper Towns now. Woooot! But it is so far down my To-Read List, because I still have a few books to read before that but still, you know? Aaah.

I love books.

I'm currently reading the collaborative work of John Green, Maureen Johnson and Lauren Myracle, which is Let It Snow. I'm on the 2nd story now, which is by John Green. The first one is so cute and fluffy and ugh why don't things like that happen to me

Instead I'm stuck with three Genetics hand-outs and a Medical Parasitology book to study. Darn.