I break bones and laugh.

I finished A Great and Terrible Beauty this morning. I was so tired that I was nauseated but I had to know how it ended. I was a little disappointed. When I first got into it I was hoping "don't let this be The Craft with corsets," and it was better than that but it felt unfinished. I've since heard that Bray plans to write more about Gemma, the narrator, so I guess that's why it felt unresolved. I do think the story is a good idea and I hope she continues it.

I'm very conscious of the luxury of reading, the luxury of education. Reading this book in particular, I can't help but think of the women who were denied this--the women who only a century ago had their lives decided for them. I can't wait to see what becomes of Gemma now that she's become more aware of her own strength.

From the book: She walks out toward them, an apparition in white and blue velvet, her head held high as they stare in awe at her, the goddess. I don't yet know what power feels like. But this is surely what it looks like, and I think I'm beginning to understand why those ancient women had to hide in caves. Why our parents and teachers and suitors want us to behave properly and predictably. It's not that they want to protect us; it's that they fear us.

As you can imagine, in light of recent events, this is exactly what I needed to hear.

In only tangentially related news, I will be applying for my licensing exam tomorrow. Nervousness! I can't write that I think I'll do okay because I honestly don't know. I just need to start studying like a fiend. But I hate studying. I've always been terrible at it. I just have such an extraordinarily hard time trying to motivate myself into it. I will dig out my review book tonight and try to do something with it. Gah.

I went to the bookstore to pick up a new book because in my hurry to finish this last one, I had neglected to pick up a spare. I chose Everything is Illuminated, which I hope changes my life like those of the people on the back of the dustjacket. On my drive back, the DJ on the local pop station was relating how a girl had called to request a song because the song was stuck in her head and she was trying to study for a test. He asked her what she was studying and she said that she went to massage therapy school and her test was on "proper body mechanics." He asked her what that was and she couldn't tell him. ! Couldn't even give him a stumbling, um-studded answer. He asked her well, is it [pretty good starting definition]? She said, "Something like that."

I was so fucking embarrassed. There are two other schools that teach massage therapy in Birmingham but I'm willing to bet she's attending my alma mater. I almost called in but I made a promise to myself never to speak to Nick Nice, the DJ.

I can't decide whether or not to go see Rilo Kiley. I like their music but...let's just say my white belt's in the shop.

And finally, OMG I will never mock my dad again.