I had an identity crisis when a remarkable author published tales on his blog, written from the perspective of a middle aged woman or something, and lamented that blogs as a genre go wasted because bloggers only write about themselves and not others.

Well, I’ve decided, feck it all. A standard whiny girl blog this began and a standard whiny girl blog this will remain.

The Globe and Mail published its 10th annual Great Canadian Literary Quiz. I’m stumped at #2. This reminds me of a particularly oppressive English prof.* who used to post the quiz on his door and bar entry to anyone who couldn’t answer at least one. And they wonder why I’m a shoddy essayist.

Another achievement to view for is the Bad Sex in Fiction award. I want to quote—I really do—but I think I’m celibate forever now.

Notes:
* a particularly oppressive English prof.: We called him O’Connorman. He was still kind of a superhero. I envisioned his preternatural knowledge of grammar manifesting as he tore off his button down shirt to reveal another button down shirt! and hurled of a classroom desk out the window of the building.