ZJNP2HYWEN9E
The Baby-sitters Club #18: Stacey’s Mistake
Really, Stace? You’ve never been so wrong? Really? What about the time you thought you were going to run off to la-la-land with Scott Foley? What about the time you tried to set your mother up with appalling drama queen John Brooke? Let’s try to keep a bit of perspective here, ok?
I’m not going to lie, I LOVED re-reading this book. I believe that I have made clear in the past that Stacey’s life in NYC is pretty much the entire reason I chose to move from the Midwest to NYC when I was 23. And seriously, even though I am on the far side of my 20s these days, and Stace is 13, I totally identified with her SO MUCH in this book. Those parts will be made clear in the coming paragraphs through my squealing and digression into meaningless anecdotes from my own life. That is why you read, right?
So a bunch of the adults in Stacey’s (AWESOME, UPPER WEST SIDE, WHITE-GLOVE DOORMAN) building (seriously, what does Ed do for a living? I’ll marry him!) are planning to attend this big neighborhood meeting about homelessness (this is possibly the most bizarre premise ever, but I’m just going to run with it) and 5 different families ask Stacey to babysit. Rather than turn down 4 of them, Stace has the brilliant idea to invite the BSC (minus Jessi and Mallory, which right away shoots this book to the top of my LOVE list) to visit NYC and babysit all the kids.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Why can't everyone live like this?
The Baby-sitters Club #39: Poor Mallory!
Ah, yes, another ridiculous Mallory book about labor relations. Except this time, she deals with lay-offs and poor money management, instead of going on freaking strike because her parents expect her to help out around the house.
We open with Mallory giving like a 3 page discourse on use of the word “dibble” which is obviously the dumbest word ever. It’s like “Stop trying to make “fetch” happen, Karen” (tm Regina George). Dibble this, Mallory.
So Mr. Pike, the corporate lawyer, gets laid off. I’m just calling it like it is. This whole book they make a huge deal about him being “fired” so I’m just going to state here and now that he is NOT fired. He is laid off. He gets a pink-slip. It’s cutbacks. He’s let go. Fired would be if he f-ed up a big account then told his boss to f-off (which is something I personally dream about on a daily basis. I mean for me, not for Mr. P.) His company is downsizing. They let a ton of people go all in one day. THAT’S NOT FIRING. God, Ann M. Get it together. Given how many people I know these days who’ve been both fired and laid off, I think I know the difference.
Anyway, the Pikes, all 10 of them, pretty flip their shit at this development. I mean, it’s not great news or anything, but come on. It’s not the end of the world, unless the Pikes are as irresponsible with their money as they are with their parenting. They do seem to spend and awful lot of money on vacations and multiple baby-sitters. That first night, after Mr. P. makes the announcement, the Pike parents enumerate the austerity measures they will be implementing (unlike students in London, the Pike children do not riot) including no extras, no new clothes, no junk food, no allowances. One of the kids is like “Should we even be eating dinner?” Geez Oh freakin’ Pete, way to scare the shit out of your kids, Pike parents. How about take it down a few notches, okay geniuses?
The Pike kids form the “Pike Club” to discuss their family’s situation. The Pike Club is full of idiots.
Ah, yes, another ridiculous Mallory book about labor relations. Except this time, she deals with lay-offs and poor money management, instead of going on freaking strike because her parents expect her to help out around the house.
We open with Mallory giving like a 3 page discourse on use of the word “dibble” which is obviously the dumbest word ever. It’s like “Stop trying to make “fetch” happen, Karen” (tm Regina George). Dibble this, Mallory.
So Mr. Pike, the corporate lawyer, gets laid off. I’m just calling it like it is. This whole book they make a huge deal about him being “fired” so I’m just going to state here and now that he is NOT fired. He is laid off. He gets a pink-slip. It’s cutbacks. He’s let go. Fired would be if he f-ed up a big account then told his boss to f-off (which is something I personally dream about on a daily basis. I mean for me, not for Mr. P.) His company is downsizing. They let a ton of people go all in one day. THAT’S NOT FIRING. God, Ann M. Get it together. Given how many people I know these days who’ve been both fired and laid off, I think I know the difference.
Anyway, the Pikes, all 10 of them, pretty flip their shit at this development. I mean, it’s not great news or anything, but come on. It’s not the end of the world, unless the Pikes are as irresponsible with their money as they are with their parenting. They do seem to spend and awful lot of money on vacations and multiple baby-sitters. That first night, after Mr. P. makes the announcement, the Pike parents enumerate the austerity measures they will be implementing (unlike students in London, the Pike children do not riot) including no extras, no new clothes, no junk food, no allowances. One of the kids is like “Should we even be eating dinner?” Geez Oh freakin’ Pete, way to scare the shit out of your kids, Pike parents. How about take it down a few notches, okay geniuses?
The Pike kids form the “Pike Club” to discuss their family’s situation. The Pike Club is full of idiots.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
There's trouble for everyone when a TV Star comes to town!
The Baby-sitters Club #27: Jessi and the Superbrat
Yes, it’s true. I’m alive and I continue to voraciously re-read the Baby-sitters Club. Well, that’s not entirely true. I have returned to voraciously re-reading the Baby-sitters Club. Why did I get sidetracked? Well, there’s my day job, which is lame. There’s grad school, which is also pretty lame. There’s also volunteer work, travel, friends, and valiant attempts to have some sort of romantic life, since I’m hitting the wrong side of my 20s to still be living the Sex and the City single life in New York (those women were just sad. If I’m still single when I’m that old, someone just put me out of my misery.)
But alas, I cannot let all of 2010 go by without a few nods to the BSC. I love this blog, I love my readers, and most importantly I love those crazy broads from the ‘Brook.
So we’re jumping back in with Jessi and the Superbrat, #27. I don’t recall reading this as a young’n, but the more I read the more familiar it became. So either I did actually read it and somehow forgot (it was pretty boring, so that’s not entirely unlikely) or every Jessi book is just so similar that they all run together.
So this kid called Derek Masters hails from Stoneybrook and is now the star of some TGIF style sitcom, after his making his mark in the (apparently large?) Stamford, CT kiddie-model market. Because of course one goes from starring Connecticut-based toilet paper commercials to L.A. based super stardom with nothing in between. Oh, BSC-world. I’ve forgotten how magical you are.
Yes, it’s true. I’m alive and I continue to voraciously re-read the Baby-sitters Club. Well, that’s not entirely true. I have returned to voraciously re-reading the Baby-sitters Club. Why did I get sidetracked? Well, there’s my day job, which is lame. There’s grad school, which is also pretty lame. There’s also volunteer work, travel, friends, and valiant attempts to have some sort of romantic life, since I’m hitting the wrong side of my 20s to still be living the Sex and the City single life in New York (those women were just sad. If I’m still single when I’m that old, someone just put me out of my misery.)
But alas, I cannot let all of 2010 go by without a few nods to the BSC. I love this blog, I love my readers, and most importantly I love those crazy broads from the ‘Brook.
So we’re jumping back in with Jessi and the Superbrat, #27. I don’t recall reading this as a young’n, but the more I read the more familiar it became. So either I did actually read it and somehow forgot (it was pretty boring, so that’s not entirely unlikely) or every Jessi book is just so similar that they all run together.
So this kid called Derek Masters hails from Stoneybrook and is now the star of some TGIF style sitcom, after his making his mark in the (apparently large?) Stamford, CT kiddie-model market. Because of course one goes from starring Connecticut-based toilet paper commercials to L.A. based super stardom with nothing in between. Oh, BSC-world. I’ve forgotten how magical you are.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)