Sandy Rosenthal

A couple times, about halfway through, I justified to myself why it would be ok to just quit reading it and go on to another book. This book right here showed me just how powerful my O.C.D. is over my rational mind. I thought I was going to enjoy it since it was about Katrina and my love for history, fascination with natural disasters and being someone who went through it and experienced it (although it was a lot different from what others were going through. I did lose my piece of shit damaged car, and that was like the only thing at that point that I owned and was mine. It did knock me out of college (and of course solely this) and prevented me from becoming the pompous, high-brow vegan with a lot of gay friends and the famous writer or intellectual that I was so obviously meant to be)...all those things make me think I would at least not hate this book. Wrong. I actually hated it. And I know it's probably not healthy to have such strong negative feelings towards a book I just read, but it's definitely like that. The premise behind the story could have probably been much more interesting if she did not explain her entire outfit and her friends husband who is some rich, sleazy wh0 happens to be in a current, high profile lawsuit, but whatever. I do love how she gives a nod to her son and his life when she throws in there that she helped her son and his partner move into their apartment, and that information had no relevance to anything else that she was talking about but she did it so her son would know he was accepted and I think that's really cool. I don't know how the dad felt about this particular subject, on his monthly fishing trip with the guys the old fashions were piling up and someone says something off-putting about your son, so you catch him one time in the right eye and put him down, because he's gotta show the guys that his son didn't get any of that punk shit from him. And all of that could have been avoided without exposing the child for your own self-satisfaction. Other than that it was just bland and ok.… (altro)

A couple times, about halfway through, I justified to myself why it would be ok to just quit reading it and go on to another book. This book right here showed me just how powerful my O.C.D. is over my rational mind. I thought I was going to enjoy it since it was about Katrina and my love for history, fascination with natural disasters and being someone who went through it and experienced it (although it was a lot different from what others were going through. I did lose my piece of shit damaged car, and that was like the only thing at that point that I owned and was mine. It did knock me out of college (and of course solely this) and prevented me from becoming the pompous, high-brow vegan with a lot of gay friends and the famous writer or intellectual that I was so obviously meant to be)...all those things make me think I would at least not hate this book. Wrong. I actually hated it. And I know it's probably not healthy to have such strong negative feelings towards a book I just read, but it's definitely like that. The premise behind the story could have probably been much more interesting if she did not explain her entire outfit and her friends husband who is some rich, sleazy wh0 happens to be in a current, high profile lawsuit, but whatever. I do love how she gives a nod to her son and his life when she throws in there that she helped her son and his partner move into their apartment, and that information had no relevance to anything else that she was talking about but she did it so her son would know he was accepted and I think that's really cool. I don't know how the dad felt about this particular subject, on his monthly fishing trip with the guys the old fashions were piling up and someone says something off-putting about your son, so you catch him one time in the right eye and put him down, because he's gotta show the guys that his son didn't get any of that punk shit from him. And all of that could have been avoided without exposing the child for your own self-satisfaction. Other than that it was just bland and ok.… (altro)

A couple times, about halfway through, I justified to myself why it would be ok to just quit reading it and go on to another book. This book right here showed me just how powerful my O.C.D. is over my rational mind. I thought I was going to enjoy it since it was about Katrina and my love for history, fascination with natural disasters and being someone who went through it and experienced it (although it was a lot different from what others were going through. I did lose my piece of shit damaged car, and that was like the only thing at that point that I owned and was mine. It did knock me out of college (and of course solely this) and prevented me from becoming the pompous, high-brow vegan with a lot of gay friends and the famous writer or intellectual that I was so obviously meant to be)...all those things make me think I would at least not hate this book. Wrong. I actually hated it. And I know it's probably not healthy to have such strong negative feelings towards a book I just read, but it's definitely like that. The premise behind the story could have probably been much more interesting if she did not explain her entire outfit and her friends husband who is some rich, sleazy wh0 happens to be in a current, high profile lawsuit, but whatever. I do love how she gives a nod to her son and his life when she throws in there that she helped her son and his partner move into their apartment, and that information had no relevance to anything else that she was talking about but she did it so her son would know he was accepted and I think that's really cool. I don't know how the dad felt about this particular subject, on his monthly fishing trip with the guys the old fashions were piling up and someone says something off-putting about your son, so you catch him one time in the right eye and put him down, because he's gotta show the guys that his son didn't get any of that punk shit from him. And all of that could have been avoided without exposing the child for your own self-satisfaction. Other than that it was just bland and ok.… (altro)