The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks

So, I read a lot of books this weekend (in the car, and by the pool) when I was in New Jersey. I wrote book review/ summaries/ reactions/ ramblings on my iPod when I finished some of them, and I'll post this once a day or something as I type them up. This one is by E. Lockhart. You know her. Well, maybe not. She wrote the Boyfriend List and stuff like that. With the ducks on the cover, white background. Circles. Anyway. This one is called The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks. I was kind of skeptical at first, because you know, it's a boarding school story, ew. But it's good because she's not pretending to be anything she's not. She's not ugly, or stupid, or un-popular. She's just a girl. Kind of awkward, but accepting of that, and rocking it a little.

So good. Sophie, it's like Hacking Harvard, but more hilarious. Also, more feminist. It's the kind of book where you want to scream at all the characters. In a good way, though.

"At the start of sophomore year, Frankie Landau-Banks was none of these things. She was a girl who liked to read, had only ever had one boyfriend, enjoyed the debate team, and still kept gerbils in a habitrail. She highly intelligent, but there was nothing unusually ambitious or odd about her mental functioning.
Her favorite food was quacamole and her favorite color was white.
She had never been in love."

Things to look up online, ASAP:

Santarchy
Cacophony Society, Suicide Club
Brides of March
If at all Possible, Include a Cow

Maybe my favorite part was the idea of the neglected positive. Like, with the word immature, mature is the positive. Many words don't use their positive like immature does, just the negative. The one she used a lot was gruntled, as in, satisfied. Not disgruntled. I love it. A lot.

"Have you ever heard of the panopticon?" She asked him.
Porter shook his head.
"Have you ever been in love?"
He shook his head again.
"Then I can't explain it." Frankie said.
They went inside and took the geometry test.

James's Last Will and Testament

1. Bury me with my boat.
2. Give all my money to my baby sister.
3. Give all my clothing to the TSA archives.
4. Call me if Esther misses me.

Rules for Going to Dallas

1. When people ask where we cone from, don't be specific. Say "New York," as if you meant, "New York City."
2. If they ask where specifically in New York, say, "Oh, near Cornell, you know, that Ivy League school." Do not say Ithaca. They will not recognIze the name "Ithaca," and we want to make friends.
3. Do not socialize with people who look like they are republican/annoying/ridiculous. Since everyone will be wearing the same clothing, this pretty much means Texans and people from Florida.
4. Don't be biased towards people just because of their state. Duh.
5. DO socialize with people from Germany and California. These people will be awesome to talk to, of only for a little while.
6. Teach Aaron and Jessie how to play Texas Hold 'Em, Rumy 500, Gin, and 5 Card Draw. But not Blackjack. Blackjack sucks.
7. Use above as an excuse to not swim. I don't like swimming.
8. Go everywhere with Sophie and Jessie. Make JESSIE tell stories.
9. Have so much fun you want to die.
10. Get lost in the hotel, daily. But don't be late. Ever.


This is going to be so cool.


Acronym of the day:
SNAFU.
Situation normal's all f**ked up.
I don't know either. My mom used it in an email to Mr. Buchner. I had to look it up on Urban Dictionary. I wonder if that's what she meant. Maybe it means something else.