My literary twin

I recently finished reading a book called 'Jennifer Johnson is sick of being single', written by Heather McElhatton. I'm quite proud of myself, because I finished it very quickly, which is unusual for me, given that in any one sitting, I usually fall asleep midway through my third page.

Aside from being terribly funny in parts, I felt a particular connection to the main character - Jennifer Johnson. As the title implies, Jennifer is over being single; she's had some disastrous dating experiences, works in a squirm-worthy organisation and manages to find herself in awkward situations all the time. I'm not much of a book reviewer, so I'll spare the synopsis - suffice to say Jennifer aches so badly for things to change that when she arrives at the place she thought she wanted, she loses sight of herself. The story kind of shat me off, with the way that it ended imperfectly (not unlike life), but it did make me think about why we strive for the things we do.

I hope that upon arriving in an 'ideal' StrangeBird version of the world, that if it does not deliver what is right and good - that I will have the sense to keep searching. The distance between here and there is vast and immeasurable, but I'd like to think, that if I remain true to myself along the way, that any change in destination will be because it is best.

Some of my favourite quotes from the book

After being caught in an embarrassing position:
"If I had one wish it would be that a sniper would shoot me right now, right here."

Letting her mind wander during a staff meeting:
"What if, for some reason, I had to sleep with Carl? What if a meteor hit the planet and killed almost everyone, except for a group of crazy people, like Mormons or something.... I would have to let the opossum nudge my nether region.  I would have to open my legs and let that hairless, sightless mole creature..."

During a playful fight:
"Well, why don't I just not talk at all? I say.  I'll just be mute.  I shall be Mutey McMuterson from Mutington Downs."

A perfect moment:
"I'm illuminated and floaty, the world full of possibility.  It's almost hard to be this happy.  Right here, right now, this suddenly.  It's almost painful, like after years of darkness, the light hurts your eyes."

A theory:
"I think your God-given right when you get old is to be difficult.  I myself can't wait to be eighty and never have to help anyone again."

Illusions over:
"...like how castaways eventually accept their situations.  After a certain amount of time you have to stop scanning the horizon with hope and just go build a palm-frond shelter... at some point you just have to go lie down in the freaking palm fronds."

It's like we are the same person...

SB xx