theparisreview
theparisreview:

“Picking up a paper this morning, it suddenly struck me that Napoleon (whose 193rd birthday falls today) must be one of the few people who actually experienced that age-old question: ‘If you were stranded on a desert island, what would you read?’”
This week’s staff picks, including the worst video game ever made, Napoleon’s desert island reads, and Salinger’s Ring Lardner.

theparisreview:

“Picking up a paper this morning, it suddenly struck me that Napoleon (whose 193rd birthday falls today) must be one of the few people who actually experienced that age-old question: ‘If you were stranded on a desert island, what would you read?’”

This week’s staff picks, including the worst video game ever made, Napoleon’s desert island reads, and Salinger’s Ring Lardner.

breakupnotes
breakupnotes:

A Note on “I Like You”
Something tremendous happened recently.  A guy told me he liked me.  Not in a weird, nebulous, let’s-hang-out-and-see-what-happens way, but in a “I like you” way.  The actual words.
I don’t think this has ever happened to me before. For example, in college I had a huge crush on a guy in my class.  I blogged about it, thinking he would never find it (This was early blogging times, friends. I was dumb.), but then one day he confronted me about my blog…and I was mortified.  Just the idea that he knew I liked him made me want to hide under the covers of my extra long twin bed for a semester.  But, it turns out, he liked me, too.   But did we ever just say, “Hey, I like you!”?  Hell no.  
I’ve read about this kind of forwardness and honesty in those “If he likes you, he’ll tell you!”-type books, but I never actually thought it was a real thing.  In fact, before he told me he liked me, I was ready to spend the rest of the day analyzing our date, and reading into the subtext of his texts, trying to find out if he liked me…but then I didn’t have to.  How liberating.

breakupnotes:

A Note on “I Like You”

Something tremendous happened recently.  A guy told me he liked me.  Not in a weird, nebulous, let’s-hang-out-and-see-what-happens way, but in a “I like you” way.  The actual words.

I don’t think this has ever happened to me before. For example, in college I had a huge crush on a guy in my class.  I blogged about it, thinking he would never find it (This was early blogging times, friends. I was dumb.), but then one day he confronted me about my blog…and I was mortified.  Just the idea that he knew I liked him made me want to hide under the covers of my extra long twin bed for a semester.  But, it turns out, he liked me, too.   But did we ever just say, “Hey, I like you!”?  Hell no.  

I’ve read about this kind of forwardness and honesty in those “If he likes you, he’ll tell you!”-type books, but I never actually thought it was a real thing.  In fact, before he told me he liked me, I was ready to spend the rest of the day analyzing our date, and reading into the subtext of his texts, trying to find out if he liked me…but then I didn’t have to.  How liberating.