When she was good, she was very good indeed, but when she was bad she was horrid.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, There was a Little Girl
I first read this poem while on fanfiction.net, a place where the average person can post work they've written based on existing literature, TV shows, and movies. It struck me. It reminded me of myself.
The summer before eighth grade. My aunt took me to Boston for a day trip, and we went on the Duck Boats. I loved it. Even though there was the occasional loud noise, I loved it. And to top it all off, the guide called me the "Google Girl," claiming you could search me and find a better answer than the search engine would provide you.
I answered every question he asked. For example: In World War II, why was the golden dome of the Massachusetts capital building painted gray?
The summer before eighth grade. My aunt took me to Boston for a day trip, and we went on the Duck Boats. I loved it. Even though there was the occasional loud noise, I loved it. And to top it all off, the guide called me the "Google Girl," claiming you could search me and find a better answer than the search engine would provide you.
I answered every question he asked. For example: In World War II, why was the golden dome of the Massachusetts capital building painted gray?
Answer: To ward off bombers.
This kind of thing happens so often. I've had to learn not to do it when I'm in public, unless I'm specifically asked. Otherwise, people may actually say I am somewhat horrid. And I would have to agree.
I'll be posting more parts of this another time. But for now, go ahead: ask me any questions you would like in the comments, and I'll try to answer them without Google.
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