No time for introductions. Let’s jump in.
So . . . life may have been a little rough the last few months. I’m not great at being all emotional and stuff, and people don’t come here for that, so let’s use an unfunny meme to explain my life since the last post:
October: Grad school is terrible and I hate everything! No time to blog, I got work to do.
November: I just got dumped. (Again. It was embarrassing.) Time to go man-hunting! I hear this online dating thing isn’t so bad . . .
December: Fuck men. Cats are better.
January: I’ve been kinda bummed out lately. But you know, I really need to take this time to focus on myself and the things I enjoy, jump back into my hobbies. I was so happy last year when I got to focus on the things I love, like writing fanfiction, knitting, bloggi —
Oh, is it time for the Spring semester already? Well gee, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to fit that stuff in, especially since I’m not wasting time talking to those losers on online dating sites.
March: Drag Race is starting again! Time to think about literally nothing else!
April: OH MY GOD EVERYTHING IS FIRE NO ONE WILL EVER PAY ME SO MANY PRESENTATIONS WHY DID I CHOOSE A PROFESSION THAT HAS SO MUCH PUBLIC SPEAKING I CAN’T REMEMBER WHAT BOOKS LOOK LIKE ARE MY EYES BLEEDING WHY DOES EVERY PROFESSOR INSIST ON HAVING MAJOR PROJECTS DUE AT THE SAME TIME WHYYYYYYY
May: Wow, what a wonderful semester! It was stressful, but I learned a lot, I’m inspired to be a librarian and help those in need, and I’m more physically and emotionally healthy than I’ve been in a long time. I even promised my friend Will that I’d finish this Fault in Our Stars blog. I feel so motivated!
Time to celebrate!
WOOOO! I HAVE TWO MARTINIS AND ABOUT HALF MY WEIGHT IN OVERPRICED FONDUE IN ME!!! LET’S DO THIS!!!!!!! JOHN GREEN IS MY BIIIIIIIITCH!
Right Now: . . . Fine. I guess it’d be pretty embarrassing to make it this far and not finish the thing properly.
It’s here. The Penultimate Peril.
You may have noticed that I’ve been a bit . . . absent these past few weeks.
Okay, there’s been a lot of drama in my life. What with graduating, starting and finishing a semester of grad school, getting comfy in my new job, starting, ending, and then awkwardly Frankenstein-style-resurrecting a relationship, and then beginning another semester left me with limited time or inclination to deal with any of Green’s bullshit. Plus there’s homework, and trying to reconfigure career plans, apply for a new Master’s (M.B.A., if you were curious), keep in touch with friends who are way less socially anxious and homebody-y than I am, and that Party Hard game is so unbelievably fun and the first game I’ve ever completed, let alone “perfected,” and I’ve just been too damn lazy, okay? There have been distractions both reasonable and unreasonable, and things got neglected. Including you, my poor little babies.
It’s that time again!
Once again, we are ready to voyage into the beautiful and haunting world of John Green, where entitled little shits are treated like the Second Coming of Christ and somehow we’re expected to read the same chapter over and over without noticing.
But whatever. There aren’t any funerals or wakes or Facebook posts for her to be miserable about, so hopefully this will be slightly more bearable. Hey, for all we know this could be a great chapter, full of the insight and heartrending drama that we’ve been seeking in vain for months now!
We can hope, right?
Guys, I’m so glad this book is almost over, because I’m close to giving up.
Honestly, I’m worn out. I don’t know how many different ways there are to say that Hazel is a hateful brat, that I still don’t care Gus is dead, that apparently people with cancer have a monopoly on feelings about death, that John Green is either a narcissistic douchebag desperately trying to prove his relevance to the literary canon or a narcissistic douchebag desperately trying to prove his relevance to tweenage girls via so much pandering.
You’re tired of hearing it, I’m tired of saying it; Lord knows we’re all tired of reading it.
I mean, this chapter is almost exactly the same as the last one, just . . . longer. And less plausible.
Oh well, let’s just pick ourselves up by our hideous bowties and stagger through the third-to-last chapter of this endless novel. It’s what Mr. Psycho would’ve wanted.
It’s time, kids. Put on your Sunday best and grab yourself some professional mourners, because our dear Augustus Waters is dead.
Augustus Waters died eight days after his prefuneral, at Memorial, in the ICU, when the cancer, which was made of him, finally stopped his heart, which was also made of him.
That reads like it was put together by someone who only has a vague idea of how words work. But we’ll let that go, because the important part is that our hero is officially worm food. Literally a page after we had that fake funeral.
It’s a little abrupt. I mean, I’m all for it, considering it spares us 8 days of listening to “Augustus was so perfect and wonderful, except he wasn’t because cancer patients aren’t perfect and wonderful which is why you should think this is the deepest book ever, except he is because I need you to fall in love with him so you cry when he dies . . .” So, thank God for small favors.
But still, is this it? I mean, we have about 3,000 pages of “romance,” a couple chapters of cancer, and then thud. I’d say Green was being deliberately cold — you know, this isn’t like those sappy “cancer books” — if I didn’t think this was supposed to be the point where I start crying.
But whatever. We’re only at the first sentence.
Hey all! We just finished sending Augustus Waters to his fake grave, but I couldn’t fit in everything that our amazing posters had to offer. So I’m sharing the full eulogies here so you can enjoy the hell out of them! If I get others from commenters, they’ll go here as well.
Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to say goodbye to a beautiful man known by many names: Augustus Waters, Gus, Mr. Psycho, Edward Cullen, Pee Wee Herman.
And we’d like to tell him how little he means to all of us:
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