Dreadful Two Hours

Dominique had spent so many summers and winters, surrounding herself with people in order to feel alone,that the experiment of actual solitude was an enchantment to her and a betrayal into a weakness she had never allowed herself: the weakness of enjoying it. she stretched her arms and let them drop lazily, feeling a sweet, drowsy heaviness above her elbows, as after a first drink. She was conscious of her summer dresses, she felt her knees, her thighs encountering the faint resistance of cloth when she moved, and it made her conscious not of the cloth, but of her knees and thighs.
She saw his mouth and the silent contempt in the shape of his mouth; the planes of his gaunt, hollow cheeks; the cold, pure brilliance of the eyes that had no trace of pity. She knew it was the most beautiful face she would ever see, because it was the abstraction of strength made visible. She felt a convulsion of anger, of protest of resistance-and of pleasure. He stood looking up at her; it was not a glace, but an a act of ownership. She thought she must let her face give him the answer it deserved. But she was looking, instead, at the stone dust on his burned arms, the wet shirt slinging to his ribs, the lines of his long legs. She was thinking of those statues of men she had always sought...She saw him looking at her as if he knew that. She thought she had found an aim in life-a sudden, sweeping hatred for that man.
She felt anger, a satisfying anger because it was cold and certain. She felt also a desire to let her skin touch his; to let the length of her bare arms press against the length of his; just that; the desire went no further.

-The Fountainhead
By Ayn Rand

I think its pretty obvious that I feel the way that the above character does in the novel that we are currently reading in my English class. Funny think because out of anyone in that book, I hate her. Yesterday, we went to a neighboring congo and to be honest, I really liked it. I learned that people that are humble are nicer. I should be more humble. Plus my daddy did really good on his talk. There was one thing that really bothered me though. They got my dad's last name wrong and for those two hours, we were Mendez.

Here's the deal: MENDOZA!!!