I have so much to write about today. If I were to write about them individually, they’d form at least 2 different blog entries. I’m lazy. So there.
The Messenger by Daniel Silva – Good book. Stupid ending. You spend 400 pages on infiltrating Jihad Inc., kill off the Villain 1 in two pages, Villain 2 in three pages – man, that’s worse than Voldemort’s death! On the other hand, nothing could be worse than Voldemort’s death. But the end showed quite a few bits of sheer stupidity. Like how the protagonist was willing to kill off Villain 1’s maybe-wife just because she was his maybe-wife and probably knew that he was a terrorist (even though the only thing she seemed to be interested in was going to the salon and getting her hair done), but how Villain 2’s definite-daughter was allowed to live, who would know that he backs up major terrorist activities and who was left standing over her father’s dead body, screaming for revenge.
And those are not my words.
Yes, the author was looking for a new character for another book. Nadia the Villain. Born of sheer stupidity on the protagonist’s part. Or, as MFG puts it, a case of writer’s block. C’mon, the maybe-wife with the hair obsession could’ve been a villain!
‘The mysterious stranger rose out of the ocean, her blonde(?) hair shining in the sun. The face was slightly familiar. She took a caprioska from the shack and sipped on it slowly, her blue eyes darting about. The place was perfect. Soon she’d avenge the death of her not-husband, and only on that day would she step into the salon and get her hair done.
Revenge is a dish best served in a tropical setting.’
One of the Worst Things – You know, one of the worst things you could ever see is your mom crying. My maternal grandmom’s not well. Actually, that would be quite an understatement. But she has her good days. And bad days. Her graph is a curve that goes *zoom up* and *zoom down*, and every weekend her graph dips quite a bit.
This is a weekend.
Today, my mom’s eyes were red when I went to the hospital. She tried to put it off on the cold and stuff and blah. Grandmom not really responding. Mom crying. I wanted to bawl my eyes out. I want to bawl my eyes out. I just want my grandmom to get better and my mom to stop being sad. And my aunt. It’s sometimes so hard to keep up a nonchalant exterior.
The Devil is a Woman! 