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Super confused about this "relationship", need advice ASAP . PLEASE?

First let me tell you about my self.... im a college student... down to earth, outgoing, funny, talkative, very social.. etc...

hopefully you'll still read and help me out even if its super long, sorry about that by the way !


k,so you were a totally different person before you started hanging out with this guy, now you cant seem to string two words together, so you are experiencing brain freeze for long periods of time ,., I get it.
What you can do to get back to your

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Sag Harbour

My prose is a bit rusty but I've got a rant about the "coming of age" novel -- you've all read one -- Awkward Teen has Experiences and faces Life Issues and learns A Few Lessons along the way. They're usually stodgy and pretentious and make me want to throw the heck up. But my eyes kept wandering back to this, because of the strange name and the wacky cover. Teenaged boy, summer, family, cottage, yadda. . . This one goes on the shelf next to Hairstyles of the Damned and Spanish Fly . Kid has Experiences and faces Life Issues and it is an incredible feat of fiction, because there is no pontificating about Lessons Learned or anything else puke-inducing. There are also, thank all the gods, no long, descriptive passages describing sexual awakenings and/or the effects thereof, which seems nearly de rigeur in books about white people. (Could we all get over Woody Allen or whoever started that? Thank you.) And Mr. Whitehead keeps dropping fascinating little hints about life after that summer. People are dead. One is paralyzed. What happened? Do we get a sequel? Compare with Three Songs for Courage , by Maxine Trottier. I read "penis" more times in the first 150 pages than I have in the last three years, no lie. Also "boner." Yeah, we get it -- teenaged boys get erections and it's really inconvenient. No one cares . As a hook on which to hang your character's angst, it is rusted and bent. (And how much farther can we stretch that metaphor?) Possibly also hidden under the coats of all the more compelling characters who are busy doing stuff while your guy is staring into the mirror comparing his wang to those of his peers'. It goes on to the guy greasing up his hair with Brylcreem. (No mention, here, of what happens when you put gunk in your hair in the depths of summer in southern Ontario. Or even in the depths of Alberta.) Then they go out driving. It's summer. It's ONTARIO. Shouldn't I feel the...

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