brilliant.

"Aïda. That is her terrible name. Ai-ee-duh: two cries of pain and one of stupidity. The vines tighten around her body as she spins, and Joseph snaps photographs. she knows he will like it, the way the leaves cling, the way the grapes stain her white dress. we are trespassing on the vintner's vines, spilling the juice of his expensive grapes, and if he sees us he will surely shoot us. What an end to my tall little cousin. Between the purple stains on her chest, a darker stain spreads. Have I mentioned yet that I am fat.?

Isn't it funny how I've learned to say it? I am fat. I am not skin or muscle or gristle or bone. What I am, the part of my body that I most am, is fat. Continuous, white, lighter than water, a source of energy. no one can hold all of me at once. Does this constitute a crime? I know how to carry myself. Sometimes I feel almost graceful. But all around I hear the thin people's bombast: Get Rid of Flabby Thighs Now! Avoid Holiday Weight-Gain Nightmares! Lose Those Last Five Pounds! What is left of a woman once her last five pound are gone?"
-Julie Orringer, How to Breathe Under Water

If I could write like this, I'd never worry about my future. That's from the story "When She is Old and I am Famous" by the way. And I don't even think that's the best story in the book. Granted, I think I might get a little more out of the book if I brushed up on my Judaism, but the book is still absolutely devastating. The stories are actually strong enough that I couldn't read the book straight through, I could only handle a few stories at a time.

I guess I don't really have anything constructive to say, except that I'm now beyond excited that she's visiting campus in a month.