That after an ugly childhood and gawky adolescence, I would blossom into a legendary beauty, the type of which that would awe strangers and be best described as “lissome” and “shining,” instead of being someone who obsessively watched makeup tutorials on Youtube and yet still manages to go out with one eye made up perfectly and the other one looking like it had been made up by a drunken goat.
Miss Havisham presides over Great Expectations like a great, ill-willed fairy queen. She is, by turns, the novel's resident corpse, its ghost, its fairy godmother, and "the Witch of the place"—a fury dressed up in a tattered, yellowed wedding dress. She stands, in the Dickens pantheon, alongside Scrooge, the Artful Dodger, and Uriah Heep as one of his most memorable characters.
Katie here. I was just searching our archives -- can you believe we've been emailing each other nonstop for 12 years? It's like, Wanna Feel Old? (That's a Twitter joke lol.) Email feels super antiquated to me, tbh. It's like, it's 2016.
If you pay attention to the emoji news, you've probably heard the statement that "emoji will cause the death of English". You've probably sensibly rejected this as doom-mongering hyperbole already. Which it is, so good job you.
There is one moment from the cross-country trip I took with my mother in 2007 that will probably forever live in my mind. We were on Highway 80 going through Nebraska in the middle of a blizzard. The road was invisible, buried under a sheet of snow.