Sunday, June 27, 2010


After (Hardcover)

Devon is fifteen-years-old. She's a soccer star with a sketchy mom. She gets straight-A's and plans to play for a Division 1 school. All is going according to plan.

Until Devon gives birth and throws the baby into the dumpster behind her apartment.

Devon is quickly arrested and sent to juvie. Her whole defense on the I-didn't-know-I-was-pregnant-despite-birthing-a-baby-and-putting-it-in-the-trash situation is that she doesn't remember what happened. Hell, who would want to remember that? The only problem though (besides this being quite possibly the worst defense ever) is that Devon is having flashbacks.

As hard as it is for ex-good girl Devon, she starts to integrate into the juvie's school. The school work is too easy for Devon, though. As the teacher explains, a lot of the girls are barely scraping by doing the seventh grade work. Devon was an AP student. The teacher offers to let her learn independently. That's great and all, but Devon still has to deal with Karma, Devon's very first frenemy. Yep.

Most of the book focuses on the hearing to determine if Devon's case will be tried in juvenile or grown-up court. Yep. Page after page of some quality court. Woo!

The book ends rather abruptly as Devon decides her next move. Dun dun dunnnn.
  • The book is really about Devon's defense. How wrong is she if she can't remember what she did? What about the contributing factors leading to Devon having deep enough denial to ignore a pregnancy? How miserable was Devon growing up with a teenage mother that she'd rather ignore her own pregnancy and throw away the baby than face motherhood?
  • Holy moral dilemma!
    • I remember having the What-would-you-do-if-you-got-pregnant? conversation with some friends during freshmen year of college. Without hesitating one friend said, "I'd just exercise and not eat. I know I could do it. There would be no baby." Uh, what? Anyway, I count this as evidence that the hypothetical pregnancy of a 19-year-old was causing the girl to shit a brick. Think about a 15-year-old.
      • So yes. Devon did the wrong thing by throwing her baby in the trash. There's no excuse for that. But I think a lot of people can relate to her feelings of desperation and panic.
      • Except...I'm pretty sure that if I got pregnant even now, my parents would be pissed, but they'd deal with it. A baby is a hell of a lot easier to deal with than a prison sentence, though.
        • And actually, my mom has had those really uncomfortable talks with me. The Please-tell-me-if-you-ever-get-pregnant-rather-than-hiding-it-and-throwing-the-baby-in-the-trash talk. Literally.
  • Devon Sky Davenport. Definitely an unfortunate name.
    • Why is Devon so hung up on the name Sky? I know at least two people named Skyler. It's even gender neutral. It's not a problem for either of them. Why such a problem, Devon?
    • I'd be way more upset about the Devon Davenport situation. Devon admits that her mother had wanted her to be a soap opera star. So the soap opera character name was for good measure?
  • There are constant soccer metaphors. I get it Devon. You played soccer. Does that really mean that you relate every single thing to soccer? Do you really equate your trial to a giant game of soccer?
  • For being a high achiever, this girl is really focused on the fact that her lawyer is a woman. Silly woman. She should stop defending Devon and get back in the kitchen.
  • I want to punch Karma in the throat. Every sentence out of her mouth is a quote from her "good friend Anonymous."
    • There's a Hey Arnold (I think...) where a love poem is signed Anonymous. Arnold (again, I think...) thought that Anonymous was the name of a person. Someone should tell him that Karma knows her!
  • Devon had to pick out people to be character witnesses. I would be terrible at that. I can barely ask people for letters of reference.
  • I do feel bad for Devon because of her mother. Her mother works two jobs and is constantly parading men through their apartment. Devon's mom seems more the type that wants to be your friend rather than your mother. That's not fair to Devon.
  • I do feel bad that no one has called Connor, the boy that fathered Devon's baby. He never even knew that Devon was pregnant.
  • Witnesses kept saying that there was no way that Devon didn't know she was pregnant. Uh, isn't the show I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant showing us that it is possible to give birth without knowing that you're pregnant?
    • My aunt works at the same university that I attend. She told me that about two or three students a year pull a I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. It's a medium sized school. Damn.
  • A little author's note says that it is estimated that one baby is thrown in the trash a day. Holy crap.
    • Even scarier? There are safe haven laws. So how many babies were abandoned before the safe haven laws?
  • The book reminds me a lot of Jodi Picoult books. I've read a couple and come to regret it every time. Like JP's books, this one puts most of the focus on the court trial. Which yes, that is the focus of the story...but really...Do you want to read 200 pages of testimony and court proceedings and depositions and what not? Yeah, me either.
  • I can't even say how hard I'm working to hold back on the spoiler situation. Because this one is worth it. And not obvious from the beginning. In a totally out of character move, I didn't even peek. Except once on accident, and I only read the last sentence which I interpreted completely wrong.

What Would Dumbledore Do?

He'd fight for his right to marriage equality!

(via theborderline)

P.S. You can find both of these images at the kick-ass tumblr Fuck Yeah, Protest!

Monday, June 21, 2010

Th1rteen R3asons Why

Dudes. This is gonna be a short one. As in few to no spoilers. Normally, I'm all about the spoilers. I like knowing that a character I like will still be alive and well at the end of the book. No sense in getting emotionally attached to a character if he/she/it is just gonna die in a few hundred pages. So, anyway, this is one book that spoilers would have ruined for me. Meaning that I have little to nothing to say about it.

Clay comes home from school one day to find a box sitting on the porch. Addressed to him, it's full of tapes. Creepily enough, they're from Hannah. She committed suicide two weeks earlier. The tapes include instructions to listen to the complete set and mail them onto the next person on the list. If the tapes aren't passed on, a third party person has a set, too. In that case, the person has instructions to release the tapes to the public, thus exposing the people on the tapes for who they really are.

Clay spends one extremely draining night listening to the tapes. They detail the thirteen reasons why she committed suicide. Thirteen people why. There are thirteen people, Clay included, that were part of something bigger than they could have imagined.

Tape after tape, Clay can't figure out how he is related to the whole mess. He didn't window peep or start rumors about Hannah. He didn't cause an accident or allow a crime to occur. He just loved Hannah from afar. He just worked at the same movie theater to be close to her. He had just made out with her the first time a few weeks earlier. He was just there too late.
  • I don't know how to describe why this book is good. It's not that it's extremely well written. It's not that you get a lot of background on the people mentioned on the tapes. The suspense is where it's at, though. It's the idea of hearing Hannah's voice from beyond the grave, spilling the reasons for her suicide--reasons that the people on the tape could have prevented.
    • Everyone is effected (affected? I'll never know...) by suicide in some way or another. Most people know someone that has (or, unfortunately, will) commit suicide. I am no exception. Chances are, neither are you.
  • Do you know what kind of hot commodity this book is? I went to go check it out at the library and it was bad news bears. Someone had stolen this book. Who the hell does that? Good news, though. It was returned. Obviously.
  • I'm not even going to pretend like I'm not annoyed by the title's brush with l33t. With the exception of my constant attempt to work the word n00b into conversations, I'm too old for that shiz. I celebrate the fact that my peers have moved past that, so now they can use their grown-up letters when communicating with me via internet or text.
    • Okay. I just got that the numbers in the title are 1 and 3. Like 13. Like 13 reasons why. Durrr.
  • I love Hannah's shoes on the cover. And her hat. And skirt. And sweater. Just based on fashion choices alone, I'd want to be this girl's friend.
  • Did I mention the suspense factor? Holy crap.
  • Clay's feelings for Hannah definitely remind me of Ben's feelings for Amy in The Secret Life of the American Teenager. And yes, I am embarrassed to have just made that comparison.
  • How could so many people in one high school be so terrible? The book just covers what Hannah witnessed...and was horrible. What's going on in the rest of this high school?
  • The entire time I was reading this book, I kept thinking that Clay sounded like the kind of boy I should could have liked in high school. Mmmmmm.
  • Conclusion: Totally an up-to-4am-reading kinda book. You've been warned.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Sarah's Key

Sarah's Key

I put this book on hold at the library the day after I got home from school. It had an 89 day wait. Clearly, this book is way ahead of it's schedule. I understand why. I read this bad boy in less than 24 hours. Possibly because I'm unemployed (but only for another day!!!).

There was something that really bothered me about this book though. Read this book. And then read Tracy Chevalier's Virgin Blue. In the interview with Rosnay at the end of the book, she even cites Chevalier's other book, Girl With a Pearl Earring, as one of her favorite books. The similarities between Virgin Blue and Sarah's Key are a little too much for my taste:

Alternating chapters between a woman at a historically important time and a modern woman. Historical event is rather obscure, but still very important. Modern woman is transplanted from America to France and feeling out of place. Arrogant, unsupportive architect husband that is always away on business trips. Difficult pregnancies. Modern woman's obsession with historical woman. Secret research trips to the French countryside. End of marriage. Implied relationship with man that was connected to the research on the historical woman.

But hey, that's probably a more common theme than I realize.

Anyway. About Sarah and her key:

Julia is that modern day woman mentioned before. She's American but living in Paris with her arrogant architect husband. They have one daughter, Zoe, but Julia would have loved more children. Her in-laws are stereotypical French people--basically, they have giant sticks up their asses. Classic.

Julia's a reporter for a magazine for Americans living in France, Seine Scenes. Cute name, right? Julia's boss tells her to research the Vel d'Hiv for it's 60th anniversary. I know, I know. You're like Vel d'what? Me too, me too.

So timeout for a history lesson 'cause the French don't like to tell us about it:

It's World War II. July 16, 1942 to be more specific. The Nazis are out collecting the Jewish townfolk. The French get an order to round up some Jewish adults. Previous round ups had only collected men, so all the menfolk were hiding out. Leaving just the women and children at home. The French police were so darn eager to please and avoid Nazi intervention that they arrested the kiddos too. (The Nazis had intended for the under fifteen crowd be sent to foundations.) About 4,000 children under the age of fifteen were arrested that day. (And actually, I heard before that this was the power of Hitler. He didn't order a lot of the torture in the concentration camps. People were just really eager to please him by going above and beyond. That worked out well...) The French police reaction to the round up was described as "enthusiastic."

Where does one store 13,000 Jews that have been ripped from their beds? In the stadium, of course. 13,000 people were held in the Vel d'Hiv stadium for six days. In the summer. Without food or water or bathrooms. Basically, the Vel d'Hiv was a post-Hurricane Katrina Superdome but much, much worse. All the while, the French police kept on doing their jobs. And Parisians didn't really think much about what was going on.

After six sweltering days, the people were sent to Drancy, a concentration camp in the Parisian 'burbs. Yup. Right there in the 'burbs. (It's been renovated. It's now an apartment complex. Seriously. That's sick.) The men and women were immediately sent to Auschwitz. The kids were left behind. Eventually, the children were sent away to be killed, too.

Back to plot:

In this story, eight-year-old Sarah thinks that her family will return to their apartment later that day. She doesn't know that her family is being rounded up for a death camp. She decides to tuck her three-year-old brother into a hidden cupboard to hide. The key is hidden in her pocket. As one can imagine, Sarah is devastated by each second that she is away from her brother.

After about a week, Sarah and her family are taken to Drancy. There, her father is immediately sent to Auschwitz. After a few more days, Sarah and her mother are separated. Her mother is sent on to Auschwitz. The children are told that they'll all be reunited there. Sarah ain't no fool, though. The kids' names aren't recorded. And they're not getting much food.

Sarah and a girl named Rachel decide to climb under the fence to run away. What choice do they have? As Sarah is wriggling under, someone grabs her ankle and pulls her back. Lucky her, though, it's her friendly neighborhood policeman! He recognizes Sarah and encourages her to run away. He even slips her some money.

After a night in the woods and a near brush with some Nazis, the girls fall asleep in a dog house. In the morning, the owner of the house finds them. Thankfully, he and his wife are sympathetic to them and take them in. Unfortunately, Rachel has developed dysentery. The couple find a doctor to treat Rachel, but the doctor ends up turning them in to the Nazis. Rachel is taken back to the camp, but Sarah is kept safe. The doctor never saw or heard about Sarah.

Sarah survives the war and grows up as the couple's granddaughter. But first she gets them to take her back to Paris so she can find her brother. Awesome idea, right? Especially since it's WWII, and the Nazis frowned upon having undocumented Jewish kids running around. Luckily, Sarah's able to bribe people to let her on and off the train. I question this.

That's basically what's going on at Sarah's end of things.

Back to Julia and her research--She finds out from her husband's grandmother that the family's apartment was vacated in July 1942. Coincidence? Nah. Julia's father-in-law ends up telling her about this little girl that came to the apartment during WWII. She had a key for a cupboard that no had ever noticed before. By this time, it's around August or September. The father-in-law never saw what was in the cupboard, but he heard the girl shitting a brick. But mostly he remembered the smell. Julia's all ripped up about this. I can imagine why.

She heads to New York to visit her family for the summer. While there, she looks up Sarah and heads to Connecticut or wherever to meet her. Without calling first. When Julia shows up, it's immediately evident that she is not talking to Sarah. Actually, it's Sarah's husband's second wife. Sarah died in the '70s.

So what's the next logical step? Why, fly to Italy to find Sarah's son, Paul. He's there. He shits a brick 'cause guess what! Sarah never mentioned the whole being Jewish/having a brother/escaping a concentration camp to him! So this guy is flipping out (as one would expect) and Julia's sitting there possibly miscarrying the baby she conveniently conceived recently after years of struggle. Mmmhhm. Julia's husband was super pissed (of course!) because he finds out his wife and daughter are in Italy after receiving a phone call that Julia is in the hospital there.

Julia's marriage ends. (A special thanks goes out to her husband's long-term mistress and his abort-or-divorce ultimatum!) Julia, Zoe, and the baby move to New York City. Do you know who else is recently divorced and living in New York? Why Paul, of course! And who, as Zoe predicted, was Googling Julia as she Googled him? Paul! They meet up and have coffee. He's come to terms with all that shiz that Julia laid on him. It's definitely implied that Julia and Paul may be pursuing a relationship. Which is kind of sick, considering Julia's previous obsession with his mother. Or the part where she named her new baby after Sarah. Creeepy.

  • Apparently, you could rent the Vel d'Hiv out for your own purposes. Sporting event, family reunion, birthday party, Nazi sponsored round up. That doesn't look good on a brochure. And thus, the building was bulldozed a few years later.
  • What are the chances that the police officer from Sarah's neighborhood would be the one to catch her trying to escape the camp?
  • The concentration camp that the people from Vel d'Hiv were sent to before Auschwitz is now an apartment complex. Yep. You, too, could rent a cell apartment to raise your family in. How wholesome!
  • Sarah's chapters end about halfway through the book. Disappointing! They were my favorites!
    • I did like that all of the chapters were about two or three pages long. None of that rambling crap (that I am sooo guilty of!) that make me start to skim!
    • And Julia? Sometimes she was kind of boring...
  • Sarah's husband's second wife is from Italy. So the man had a thing for the foreign ladies.
  • Do people really just jet off to other countries on whims? I've never had a whim that awesome or the frequent flier miles to justify it.
  • I am not nice enough person to be a Frenchman's wife. Uh-uh. I would bust a cap at the first proof of a mistress. Not cool, dude. Not cool.
  • I think having an 89 day hold made me like more than if I had just read it without knowing that other people were clamoring for it. I don't like that that swayed me toward liking it. Even after the Virgin Blue situation.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Don't Piss Me Off.

Disclaimer: Yes. I am a closeted bitch. I just spent more than ten hours of my day in three different airports and three more hours in a car. I've been awake since 3:30 in the morning, too. Sorry I'm not crapping rainbows and butterflies for y'all. (I learned that word in Texas...)

I don't hide the fact that my main source of literary irritation is my BFF Nicholas Sparks. I'm happy to report that my previous post about how much I just love him resulted in my very first bitchy comment:

what is wrong with you Nicholas Sparks is like the most amazing and powerful writer there will ever be. you probably tried writing and failed miserably so why don't you get over your self and learn to appreciate good literature??? Because Nicholas Sparks rocks my socks!!! <3

Sadly, this commenter left a name but not a link to a blog or e-mail. Thus, I am forced to address this here with a good, old literary analysis.

Let's see.

  1. What is wrong with me? I've read a lot of books. I've hated a lot of books, but I've loved even more. I trust myself to know what is a good book and a bad book. I am capable of recognizing bad writing. That's what's wrong with me.
  2. Am I a failed writer? Uh, no actually. Unlike this darling commenter, I have a firm grasp on the punctuation situation. I also like to keep my run-on sentences to a minimum. (Low blow, I know. It had to be said, though.)
  3. My writing experience is limited to this blog and my public school education. In no way do I claim to be a professional writer or have I ever attempted to profit from anything I've written. Commenter, if you're wondering, I took two years of Advanced Placement English. I scored a five in language and a three in literature. This is evidence that I actually do know a thing or two about grammar, punctuation, and literature. Also, I was published three separate times in an annual tri-county journal for elementary school writers. In fifth grade, I was published in Kaleidoscope, a book of "outstanding student writing" from the kiddos of Michigan. I also got a B+ in English 201, despite sleeping through it most days. And yes, my mother is very proud.
  4. I am over myself, thank you. I didn't realize that expressing my opinion on my own blog was a problem for you. Next time, I'll refrain from that.
  5. I do appreciate good literature, thank you. My bookshelves are crammed with books by people named Shakespeare, Austen, Bronte, Chabon, Eugendies, Doyle, Hemingway, Mitchell, Camus, Plath, Tan, Maguire, and, of course, Ann Martin and J.K. Rowling. Most people (including literary experts!) agree that these people are responsible for "good literature." Don't worry, I do appreciate them! (Except Camus and Chabon, a little.)
  6. I shouldn't have to say this, but this is my blog. Respect me, please. I have no problem if you want to disagree with me. Dawn Schafer is your favorite BSCer? Back that shit up! So Nicholas Sparks is the "most amazing and powerful writer there will ever be"? He rocks your socks off? How is he the most amazing and powerful? I believe I gave plenty of evidence supporting my claim that Nicholas Sparks was not the "most amazing and powerful writer there will ever be." I offered you quotes from him comparing himself to the Greek tragedies and criticizing Shakespeare, Hemingway, and Austen--authors that are confirmed to be "amazing and powerful," timeless, and classic. Did I mention that these authors changed the way that people write today? As with Sarah Palin, I really would love to hear a better argument than "amazing and powerful." Please, do tell.
  7. Nicholas Sparks rocks your socks. You said it yourself. He doesn't rock my socks, though. I don't even own socks to be rocked, if you must know.
  8. Literature is a form of art. Everyone has different tastes. Not everyone loves Monet or Bernini or Dali. Not even Sister Wendy. I find it hard to believe that this commenter loves every piece of "literature" that she reads. As a matter of fact, neither do I.
  9. Nicholas Sparks is, in my opinion, a terrible writer. Yup. I stand by that statement. Despite the commenter's compelling argument, I am not swayed in the least.
P.S. Thanks for the rude comment! I am actually kind of proud! I feel just like a post-op Heidi Montag! And no, the comment did not wound me in the least. I'm more irritated by the grammar and poor argument than I am by being insulted. Take note, future haters!


Tuesday, June 8, 2010


Choke (Paperback)

Victor Mancini is:
  1. A sex addict.
  2. A medical school drop-out.
  3. A reenacter at 1734 colonial Dunsboro.
  4. A fake choker.
  5. Possibly the son of Jesus, the grandson of God.
Except guess what!(?) (I'm never sure if a question mark should go after 'guess what'. People do it both ways. I'm not asking you to guess. I'm demanding it!) None of this really plays a big role in the story. Each of these details just has a guest appearance in the actual story. 

Yeah, he's a sex addict, but he hardly goes to meetings. When he does go to meetings, he's probably busy having sex in the bathroom with one of the girls on release from jail to go to the meeting. Or he's "raping" Gwen, the fellow sex addict he found in the book store.

And yeah, Victor did drop out of medical school. This is really just a teeny detail. The only way it's brought in is with Victor's obsession with self-diagnosis. Medical school taught him to see the worst in every symptom. On the bright side, his training did lead to him advising a stripper to have her mole checked out. Possible melanoma averted!

Mmm. Yes. The choking. Victor chokes. Or at least he pretends to. Then, people in the restaurant give him the Heimlich, feel like heroes, and send him checks for his birthday. This seems like a really complicated scheme. Like what if the person doesn't feel inclined to send him money? Anyway, the people send him cards and money. 'Cause Colonial Dunsboro doesn't pay so much. The job sucks. Enough said.

The last important thing with Victor is his genetics. He has no idea who his father is. His mother is in a nursing home/psychiatric hospital with Alzheimer's so she can't tell him. It doesn't help that she was a con artist in her younger years. Victor doesn't know what to believe from her. She filled his childhood with lies and manipulation.

Everything was a sign for something else. Paging a certain name meant a bomb. Playing a certain song meant disaster. Victor's mother communicated with him through these signs. Time after time, she'd get released from prison and Victor would hear a page or a fire alarm. He'd make his way outside to be reunited with her while his foster mother waited unsuspectingly.

At his mother's care home, there is Dr. Paige Marshall. She's intent on saving his mother, who requires a feeding tube Victor can't afford. Paige's more cost effective solution is to repair his mother's brain by using embryonic tissue...tissue that would be obtained from a fetus with Victor-Paige DNA and conceived the old fashioned way. Victor balks at this idea. Because, yes, he is a sex addict and under other circumstances, he'd want to be with Paige, but he can't get behind the idea of having a fetus aborted to save his mother. Truth be told, he doesn't know if he wants to save his mother.

Victor's mother thinks that Victor is one of her many public defenders, rather than her son. She insists that she has to see her son so she can tell him about the secret of his paternity. Victor brings in his friend Denny in to pose as him. His mother tells Denny/Victor that his paternity is revealed in her diary. So Victor cracks that bad boy open. Problem? It's written in Italian. Luckily, Paige reads Italian! After a few days, she tells Victor that he was conceived through an experiment at the Vatican. His Y chromosome came from the foreskin of Jesus Christ himself. She's even called clinics in Italy that are corroborating her story. This makes Victor even more hesitant to impregnate Paige to save his mother. You can't abort God's grandchild, even if it is to save your dying ex-criminal mother.

Finally, his mother tells him the truth about his paternity. And maternity. She needed American citizenship. Therefore, she needed a baby. So, how does one procure a little Victor Mancini? By snatching him out of his stroller in Iowa. Victor's mother was really his kidnapper. Fabulous.

It all ends with Victor trying to feed his mother pudding to save her. She chokes and dies. Paige tells him that she'll take the blame. She's leaving soon anyway. She has to go back to the year 2053. Yup. Paige isn't really a doctor. More of a psychiatric patient that the hospital humors by playing along with her delusions. Good thing Victor didn't take her up on the whole impregnation thing.
  • My feelings for this book are hard to describe. I liked it because the voice was extremely different from everything else I've read lately. I also didn't like it, though.
    • You know those low-budget indie movies that people just love? Because they're life changing and deep or whatever? And I'm always the only one to point out that there isn't much in the way of a plot? Yeah. Right here.
  • I could have lived without hearing about the overweight man dressed as Tarzan having his trained chimpanzee put walnuts into his anus. Yep. Mark walnuts as one food I won't be consuming anymore.
  • Colonial Dunsboro sounds disgusting. The staff is always high or having sex in barns. Fourth graders shake the chicken eggs up, resulting in mutilated chickens. And Denny is always locked in the stocks with his ass hanging out and his nose dripping on his shoes. Yum.
  • My grandmother choked on shrimp in a restaurant in 1999. There were paramedics already there for someone else. One ran over, gave her the Heimlich, and returned to help give the other person CPR. It was all very dramatic. Except? No one sends my grandmother checks or feels connected to her for the rest of their lives. And I haven't eaten shrimp since.
    • How does Victor get the people hooked into regularly sending him money? Or feeling a life-long connection?
  • How did Victor always know when it was a signal from his mother? How many fire alarms did he ignore because they weren't from her? How many people were paged with him knowing that it wasn't really his mother?
  • I'm a little pissed that Victor never searched out his biological parents. If what his mother said was true, it shouldn't be hard to locate them. 
P.S. I won't be around for awhile, so don't miss me too much. The state of Texas requires my presence, so I'll be back next week! And, joy of joys, I've already got blogging to catch up on. That pile of books isn't going to take care of itself!

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

We're all familiar with the movie version, right? You better be. The book version is a bit different, though. Like less about Caroline. And by less, I mean almost nothing compared to the movie. Like she doesn't get lost. Yep.

In honor of Nick and Norah, my status as a music whore, and a deep desire to crawl through my iTunes (almost 18,000 songs!), I'll be summarizing the plot in playlist form. In super cheesy let's-put-it-on-a-mix-tape playlist form. Ready?

Enter book plot:

Nick is heart broken. Tris broke up with him three weeks and three days ago. He sees her at his queercore band's show. Already, she's with a new guy. Nick can't understand how she's already moved on.

Norah and BFF Caroline are at a show when they run into Tris. Tris is not a friend and not not a friend. She falls into an in-between place where she helps Norah through a pregnancy scare but cheats on her boyfriend, much to Norah and Caroline's disgust.

Nick grabs Norah at the bar and asks her to be his girlfriend for five minutes. With Tris and her new man quickly approaching, he needs to look like he's moved on.

Norah agrees but only to show Tris that she's not "frigid."

Nick's band mates are thrilled that Nick is talkin' to a real-live girl, as opposed to pining over Tris. With that, they agree to take Caroline home if Norah shows Nick a good time. It sounds like a good deal. Norah's getting fed up with always taking care of Caroline's ass. Not to mention that she's a total creeper and memorized the mixes that Nick made for Tris. Those mixes kicked ass. Cue great conversation and banter.

Enter Tal, Norah's Evil Ex. He constantly belittles her and tells her what he wishes she were--a better kisser, better in bed, more well-read, more Jewish...Just your basic douchebag. After a judgment lapse, Norah sent him a letter saying she wants him back. Tal shows up when Norah is sitting in Nick's car. He wants her to say hi. He wants her choose him over her.

The only problem with going for Nick is that his Yugo--aka the getaway vehicle--won't start. It is a Yugo after all. Finally, the old girl starts. The couple makes their escape. Tal is left behind.

Nick and Norah head to a burlesque show. Their all-time favorite band, Where's Fluffy, ends up playing a surprise show there. The night is ruined, though, when Norah pulls Nick into a closet to keep him from seeing that Tris has showed up. They make out a little, Nick's boy parts "need adjusting", and Norah runs away to a Ukrainian diner. The girl does not handle pressure well.

Nick is sitting outside the club upset. Tris sees him, and he explains that Norah just left without explanation. According to Tris, Norah's been a runner forever.
(And for this song, let's ignore the weird video. Apparently people would rather post their shit quality concert videos that anything with quality audio. Here's to you mustache girl!)

Tris has this whole spiel where she lets Nick go. She broke up with him because it wasn't fair that he was making long-term plans when she didn't feel the same way.

Cue Nick running to find Norah. With skills he appears to have picked up from Olivia Benson, Nick calls his cell phone. Which he had left in the pocket of the jacket that he borrowed gave Norah. Location identified!

There is a mutual decision that someone needs to jump someone else's bones like right now! Somehow, Nick and Norah find themselves very nearly having sex in the ice room at a Marriott Hotel. They realize how dang classy they are, but hey--Girl's gotta jump his bones somewhere. Before they can get entirely disrobed, though, an old couple walks in on them. That couple seemed to be more likely to high-five them than call the cops. I doubt the reality in this reaction.

Norah comes to understand that she made the wrong choice by turning down Brown to go to a kibbutz with Tal. Recent developments have made her understand what a douchebag Tal is and that she deserves much better. She confesses to her dad about turning down Brown. He's pretty calm about it.  Mainly because he already knew and had intercepted the letter in the mail. He RSVPed the girl for school in the fall.

Everything is perfect. Nick and Norah. Norah and Nick. Love love love. There may be a unicorn frolicking in the background here.

Nick and Norah ride the train home. They're clearly going to be pursuing this relationship.