shitty. Yes, it is really cold and looks like it should be snowing, which would be preventing the busses from running and classes from being held tomorrow. Unfortunately, Rutgers hates my blog enough to just screw with my pictures, just the pictures. So this is why this blog looks boring. (Wait, Jon fixed the pictures...)
Anyway, since I left off--I got the Simon & Schuster internship in Paula Wiseman's Books for Young Readers. It's fun and the people are nice. I get to send mail to John Lithgow. I wrote a Guggenheim Fellowship recommendation. I got to put post its on 83 books for Marlo Thomas to sign with love. I'm one book short of being done though. Ted Turner doesn't have a book yet.
Today I read a Jimi Hendrix MS for a picture book biography, and though I liked the writing, I couldn't imagine an audience for this. At first the story is about Jimmy, a talented poor boy from Seattle. He pretended his broom was a guitar and brought it to school and everything. That part was really cute. But as far as Woodstock, what kids these days even know what Woodstock is. The first page mentions Muddy Waters records. Do kids know what records even are? I think some kids in my communication classes don't. I am not sure if I've ever heard a Muddy Waters song either. The bottom line for my rejection of this book was because despite its inspirational message, I don't think there's an audience. Am I wrong? There's an afterward that tells you that Jimi became an overnight legend when he lit his guitar and that he died when he was 27. I wouldn't want to be the parent explaining why he did these things to my four year old.
So today I went to work late. That sucked. Work was fun. (See above.) Had dinner with Nick. Saw last half hour of Gilmore Girls. Went to SCRU. Saw Scrubs (taped it). It's late, but I'm too bored to go to sleep. Does that make sense? I am hungry. I wish I had eaten more or that there was more food to be eaten. Where is the carrot cake? Where are my mashed potatoes?
Quote Scieszka's Little Red Hen: Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah