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Mortified: Real Words. Real People. Real…

Mortified: Real Words. Real People. Real Pathetic.

by David Nadelberg

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A collection of actual diary/journal entries written by teens, accompanied by commentary by the adults who were those teens. Hilarious, pathetic and overdramatic, this book shows it is possible to survive adolescent angst and become a fairly rational adult!
  Salsabrarian | Feb 2, 2016 |
It's weird that reading excerpts from someone's diary isn't nearly as entertaining as watching someone read their own excerpts. The live show is fantastic and I highly advise that you check it out. ( )
  TeenieLee | Apr 3, 2013 |
Dear Mr. Belvedere, When I was a kid (from about ages six to nineteen), I delighted in stumbling across a folded up piece of paper on the ground. Often it was a scrap of homework, more often it was a receipt, but sometimes...sometimes...it was a note. And not just any note, but a note between a couple of people I didn't know. I can't really explain the allure. There was something about the anonymity. These people could say anything, ANYTHING, and there would be no consequence. There could be allusions to fornication, underage drinking, or, hope of all hopes, rejection.I never received notes as a kid. No one wrote them to me. As such, they held an unhealthy appeal. And, for some reason, I was a bit of a voyeuristic sadist. I wanted the recipients of these notes I wasn't getting to be in pain. I wanted them to ask a girl/boy out. I wanted them to get laughed at. Do you remember in class when someone would pass a note across a row of desks? Do you remember the kid who was so excited just to touch it on its way? Yeah, that was me. And do you remember the teacher who threatened to read it in front of the class? Do you remember the kid who looked physically pained when the teacher decided she wouldn't? Yeah, that was me, too.At some point, I grew out of it. I don't know what the fuck was wrong with me, to be honest. I don't even stop to look at papers on the ground anymore, unless I intend on picking them up for recycling. Which, slowly but surely, brings me to my point:I have no idea why I thought I'd like this book.Ten years ago, maybe. Fifteen years ago, I would've pissed myself with joy. But now I think it's goofy, and not in an entertaining way. I have no interest in laughing at the dramatic and desperate pleas a teenage girl makes in her diary. I don't want to hear about the sexual exploits of ten-year-olds. I just don't.I even kind of think it's wrong for the whole Mortified thing to exist. I get the point. It's funny. It helps you to laugh at yourself. Whatever. But that's not really what it does. You're laughing at a version of yourself that no longer exists. You're laughing at some poor kid whose life is really complicated and difficult. You're laughing about the hardest times you've ever gone through. And I think there's something wrong with that. You're laughing at a kid. A kid who just doesn't know any better and who deserves your support, not your condescending adult guffaws.I couldn't bring myself to crack a smile, Belve.Later,Caris ( )
2 vote anoceandrowning | Jan 21, 2010 |
Oddly delightful. A nice slice of life for people who experienced some of the most humiliating events in high school. It's a great reminder that even if our own high school experiences were horrible, there were people who had it even worse. I think the all time best though were the people who went through their stories not even realizing the horror of it, until looking at it from a distance. ( )
  johnemersonsfoot | Apr 25, 2009 |
I picked this up on a whim. Lucky me! After reading this book, my awkward teen years were certainly put into perspective, and, of course, echoed. It made me feel less alone, less of a freak. A quick read that will poke at your inner child. ( )
  mcmollie | Jan 20, 2008 |
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