#asexual read

In for a penny, in for a pound

Agnieszka dreamily: If you had to choose between the prettiest boy in our school and all the money I have, what would you take?

Hecta: And how much have you got?

Agnieszka looks into her purse: Um… only few pennies.

Aces Wild: A Heist by Amanda DeWitt. Rating: 3.75 stars.

Read from June 6th to 8th.

My local Barnes & Noble was having a ridiculous half off sale because that location is closing down to move to a different town. (I talked to the manager of the store about it and there were a ton of reasons for the move, but that’s not the point of this review.) And as I was browsing through every single shelf that still had books on it I stumbled upon this one. I loved the title for two reasons: 1) hey, I’m asexual and this is hilarious, 2) I will read about anyone pulling off a heist. Me, you, your mother. I don’t care who is heisting I just wanna see it happen. (Probably the reason my favorite show of the past few years has been Leverage.) Then I came to find out that this book is about an all asexual group of teens pulling off a heist in Las Vegas. Let’s fucking go.

I loved the Vegas-ness of it all. It really reminded me of the first couple seasons of the original CSI where you got to see the ins and outs of Las Vegas while not getting too star struck by the bright lights and big city of the strip. I loved following Jack and seeing him weave his way in and out of the showy side of Vegas and the behind the scenes. I also really enjoyed seeing how this group of asexuals who all met online while discussing fandom and “what is wrong with me” meeting in real life and seeing that the bonds of online friendship do still hold in real life. We also had teenagers actually acting like teenagers. Instead of the shitty thing that’s been happening in publishing lately which is to write an Adult novel and then age down all the characters so it gets categorized as a YA. These teens act like teens, make poorly thought out plans like teens, fight like teens, talk like teens. It was really refreshing to see that.

Tuesday, 7 September

Mr Bertie is a stinky sneaker of a teacher. He told Daddy about my low grades, and now I am the lazy bun and total shame on all my bun kin. NO SIMS, NO SWEETS, and NO LIFE until I read all those books. Ow! I’m buried alive under the library! I feel like yelling at him, “I’m fifteen! Too old for reading Dickens. I have too much adult staff to deal with.” Well, mostly sewing dresses for my dolls and playing Sims, but the adult potential is there, I sense it!

He left me locked in his study with THREE books as big as bricks and the laziest bum Tom to guard my studying. Luckily, my cat is more interested in his own tail to catch rather than reading about dirty, smelly London streets. I read five pages of Oliver Twist and felt like puddling in the nasty gutter. Is that what they want me to learn from the author?

It’s nothing new. My life is FULL of nastiness, i.e.:

1. That ugly under-the-skin pimple on my forehead will never face the light of day but brood in the labyrinths of my brains for the next twelve years.

2. If I don’t read one million pages on how hard it is to live in Dickens’ head, I may never see the light of day either.

3. I am having a test in six days and I’m certain Mr Bertie is going to fit in the most sadistic questions to watch us suffer, like Oliver Twist did.

Monday, 6 September

Got a horrible bruise on my hip and still stink of the river no matter how thoroughly I wash. I was resolved to earn my millions with far less dangerous crafting or blogging, or just marrying a PRINCE. Then at school, Amazons showed me my rather funny pics all over the Net and said only sissies give up after the first try.

“It doesn’t matter how many times you fall. It only matters how many times you get up,” Hecta quoted her favourite Shaolin monks.

“And guess what,” Carmina piped in, “There’s Dress Show Live at Terra Mall today! It’s gonna be a total sell-out and huge fashion event meaning lots and lots of…” she looked over her shoulder to check if our potential rivals listened, and whispered conspiringly, “big fish to fish for.” She wriggled her eyebrows at me, and my heart started thumping the click-clock song of the glam shoes on Milan catwalks. Oh, Lord!

Sunday, 5 September

I said no to cream buns and a cupcake for breakfast. I can only eat veggies now. Ow! T_T I went to Hecta’s for a makeover and hoped for some cookie with tea as a small compensation for my deadly sacrifice. But she said if I must, I must, i.e. no cookies FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!

I felt like crying, but Hecta started pinching my cheeks to revive my natural blush and it was rather inconvenient to cry and blush at a time. Then she gave me her ruthless goth boots, macabre skirt with a spiky belt and some ghastly hoodie with a rotting skull on it.

“Are you going to turn me into a walking nightmare?” I vetted a giant sleeping BAT in the mirror.

“Fashion world sucks,’ Hecta grumbled. ‘Everyone looks the same, and it’s boring. You are gonna be something else altogether! A black knight of tremendous power and an air of dark mystery.”

“I don’t look like a black knight. I look just BLACK,” I protested. “Black is new pink, silly,” Hecta said and got to painting my lips black, too.

Updated my Facebook status to ASEXUAL AND PROUD and I’m suddenly a hotline operator for the most stupid questions to answer. Every passer now feels it a must to ask what that is and how to cook it. I’m but a parrot crying, ‘Pirate’s code: first freedom and the captain’ like, a million times already but they keep gasping in horror and, ‘What about love?’ WHAT ABOUT LOVE! I didn’t say I was A-love-al. Why does love is suddenly a straight line to sex, eh? Big question! Hanged out with Amazons today and met Lisa walking out her doll — oops! — dog. She said asexuals can’t love properly, don’t do it like… strong enough and blah blah lah lah. ‘You repress the nature itself,’ she asserted while chewing on her gluten, lactose and taste free vitamin bar. ‘It’s totally normal to snog and shag. You just don’t let it into your life!’