Smart Girls Get What They Want

This is probably the advantage of being stupid. Stupid people just do. We tend to overthink. If we could eliminate the “over” and just think, then we could do, too. Only we’d be smarter doers because we’d be thinkers.

In fiction, I searched for my favorite authors, women I have trusted to reassure me than not all teenage guys are total ditwads, that the archetype of the noble cute hero who devotes himself to the girl he loves has not gone the way of the rotary phone. That all I had to do was be myself (smart, hardworking, funny) and be patient and kind and he and I would find each other. As Bea would say, this why they call it fiction.

Coeur qui soupire n'a pas ce qu'il desire. The heart that sighs does not have what it desires.

Maybe we were being a bit unrealistic, but we had this hope that if we could just get into the Ivy League, everything would be set. We dreamed of Gothic libraries and leafy green quads and romantic dorms with fireplaces and guys who were not only cute but also smart and charming, and, quite possibly, British. In college, we believed, we’d finally find our people.

Mike only laughed. “‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much.’” Gigi - “Methinks that is the only Shakespeare line thou doth know.

Because high school only comes around once, and I would hate to look back and think I didn’t make the most of every moment because I was scared of what other people thought. Other people never think that much about you anyway. Eleanor Roosevelt said that.

The most powerful sex organ was the brain, you know what that means Poor Justin!

I focused on the passing houses filled with couples who’d somehow survived this teenage craziness of ‘he likes her but she likes him and he likes somebody else, you just can’t win.’ How did they do it? How did they end up in their golden, warm and cozy living rooms with their 2.3 children and dogs and cats? Because getting from where I was to where they were seemed millions of light years away.

For years, he’s been listening to her complain about being ignored by Justin and assuring it her it was simply a matter of time until his friend saw the light. After all, if Henry was friends with Neerja and Henry was friends with Justin then, logically, Justin would be friends with Neerja. According to Henry, their eventual relationship was dictated by the transitive property. But Neerja didn’t want to be ‘just friends’ with Justin, and she was tired of waiting for the transitive property to jump-start her love life.

Wow," said Henry. "Awesome. And I'll help you with you know who." "Who?" Justin said again "Talking about Dr. Who, J. You know how we nerds love our Who." "Who? How did you two get on Who? We were talking about the play.

Next to my green eyes, my blond hair is definitely my best feature. So, out of obligation to all the blondes before me (Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, the many Barbies I have loved and tortured), I tend to spend hours getting it right. You know, so as not to let down the team.

So all you can do is be your own beautiful self and let love win.

…friends should have the right to adopt one another after age thirteen.

Oh dear," said my mother, turning to Marmie and going "Ce Justin, est-il gai?" (This Justin, is he gay?) Marmie handed her a hot chocolate and shrugged. "Qui sait? Je ne suis pas se petite amie." (Who knows? I'm not his girlfriend.)

Bones is, in short, my hero. She is like a one-woman marketing campaign for smart girls.

Einstein. Where did you learn to kiss like that?" I laughed "Would you believe books?" "No. I would not believe books.