I can't think of a title that would do her justice. Truly. I tried.

What would we do without Emma Thompson?  The woman is no less than brilliant.  I want to be just like her when I grow up.
Gosh, the way she talks!  In ordinary conversation she casually tosses out these wonderful words - which, to understand, I have to furtively look up in the dictionary.  Watching interviews she's given is... is... I can't think what to say!  She makes these amazing comparisons, describes things so well that I'm afraid to describe her!  I am unworthy!
Besides that, the woman is a comic genius.  Disgustingly witty.  Best award acceptance speeches ever.  Ever. Ever. Ever. She makes me feel I ought to get up off my rear and read something. Quickly now! Up, up!

Or rent Monty Python, which, to my eternal shame, I have never seen.

I do want to be like Emma Thompson when I grow up - but I'm not sure I will actually enjoy being up when I get there.  Because, seriously now, how likely is it that I will ever have anything even a teensy bit close to Emma Thompson's brains and wit and extremely good diction.  I don't like being a grown-up nineteen year old now - what will life be like when I have to do my own taxes?  I can't bear to think about it. I'm going to be twenty soon, and I'm dreading it.  It's not like I'm afraid of getting wrinkles or dying. (I do have sort of an advantage here - my Mum doesn't have any wrinkles, and my Grandma very few, so I think it's reasonable to hope that genetics will give me a boost there. Muwahahaha.) But I am afraid, I must admit, that I might wake up (figuratively) on my death bead and realize I've wasted my life.  That would be a bummer.

Tuna Sandwich for realz, right?

This proves how truly Me Generation I am - I'm sick today, and instead of doing what I usually do - read, watch movies, cry - I've been messing about with my silly blog. Re-arranging page elements. Messing with fonts. Everything in life goes through this sort of online filter for me now. Oo - this could be potential status update or twitter tweet (now that sounds ridiculous). I'm like Mr. Collins - trying to prepare my clever 140 words to impress the world! Sick.

TWEETS I THOUGHT UP IN THE LAST THIRTY EIGHT SECONDS

All I want for christmas is the Beatles on itunes. What is the deal?

I'm dreaming of a white X-Mas. Specifically, apple macbook white. Won't happen, but I can dream, right?

Hack. Cough. Sneeze. Mberry krismbas.

Starting to despise kyxy 96.5. Bah humbug indeed.

Isn't that sad? What is wrong with me? - Wait, that could be a tweet right there KELSEY STOP IT NOW.

The pot realized, with a cold shock, that she really was black.

I’ve decided to give up on making this a useful blog. Unfortunately, my tendency to just blab about myself took over, and for the past few weeks I've just been writing drivel about my life.  To heck with it.

It's ridiculous that I write a blog, because I am a bit scornful of the whole shareshareshare thing going on nowadays. Facebook, Twitter especially - people just tell every little thing about their lives. It's absurd. I don't care that you refinished your bathroom cabinet doors. Or got a new set of super-cute checkerboard shoelaces! I heart them! Or - that you made tuna sandwiches for dinner.

So there you go.
This is my tuna sandwich spot online, where I get to tell all the insignificant events of my life.  I figure my blabbing will be more out of the way here. I mean, I don't want to clutter my facebook friends' home pages with updates about myself. Here I won't bother anyone.

Plus, my father advocates blogging - "it will improve your writing skills" Say it like an infomercial! Call within the next 15 minutes and receive the bonus spelling improvement package absolutely FREE! does not include shipping and handling - $39.99

Plus plus, I read a ton of Agatha Christie and have noticed that Miss Bates types are often murdered simply because they are annoying. I am a rather blabby person, so getting thoughts out on a blog, instead of irritating friends and family with endless chatter, seems like a worthwhile precaution to take. Never a bad idea to be on one's guard, what?

I have a question to pose to the world -

How could you not like reading?
Really, how is that possible? I just don't understand. What do you do with your time if you don't read? I mean, you can't spend your whole life on facebook. At some point you'll be computer-less or the power will go out or something will prevent you from writing another clever comment or "what's on your mind?" What will you do then? What will you do on an airplane in the 20 minutes of no technology time? Stare at the seat in front of you? Flip through Sky Mall? No! You can read a good book for heaven's sake!

I understand people's aversion to certain books. I've never finished a single Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky - why would I want to when The Giver or Pride and Prejudice sit invitingly, just a bookshelf away? I understand not liking those tough, three-inch-thick books and am a hearty advocate of readerly pleasure. But how can a person not like any books at all? How is that possible?

Okay, sorry. Rant over.

Finals week is coming to a close - Mythology is the last stress inducer to go through. There's only the grade anxiety to go through and then everything really will be over. After that, I taste sweet freedom. So far, I've got an A in one class, and have a good chance for As in three others. Mythology is the only chancy one. I'll probably end up with a B. At this point, that's fine with me.

I am going to post this now, and then have a ceremonious homework deleting and burning party. It is a tradition I enjoy very much.

P.S. It irks me that this blogger thingy takes away the second space between sentences. I type them and they get taken out. Everything looks squashed together without that space. Call the waaambulance.

Norma Jean

I saw something the other day - for the first time - which has re-ignited my determination to learn to play ukulele.

Some Like It Hot.



When she gurgled, "I play the ukulele, and I sing" I gave a loud, exultant, "AHA!" and did a fist pump.  I mean, if this does not prove that the ukulele is an awesome instrument, I don't know what could. Seriously.

I love how the girl on the right is looking straight into the camera. Glaring, really.

I found the chords for this song online; now I have only to master it and Marilyn's walk and my life will be complete.

Only recently did I see my first Marilyn Monroe film, and was amazed; She's incredibly funny. And, this is said rather grudgingly, she is gorgeous. I used to always say that I thought she looked trashy - I'm an Audrey Hepburn fan, remember. Those two women are, like, exact opposites. But you know what? When I finish an Audrey Hepburn movie, I go away telling myself I have to go on a diet. Whereas with Marilyn Monroe movies, I never feel that way. You'd think I'd be jealous of her looks, but instead, after watching her I feel sort of... empowered maybe?  It's like - just wear the most flattering clothes you can, love yourself, and then forget about it.  She's such a nice, normal size.  Refreshing, what?

Come on, Jane! Focus! No more sloppy jazz hands! I want some sparkle here!

Everything is falling down around my ears. I mean, I might get a C - a C, Lord help me, a C - in my myths class. I've never gotten a C in my life. Ever. I am appalled.

I learned a sad fact in my art class today: the word - no, the not-word, the disgraceful mash-up - "unfriend" is going to be added to the dictionary. What is the world coming to?

Finished Jane Eyre. I forgive the gothic stuff. I am sorry to hear that Jane Eyre, the Musical exists. who knows, it could be great, right? Possibly?
Terrible visions come to mind.  Such as:

LIMITED ENGAGEMENT!

THE MUSICAL HORSE AND HOUND CALLS: "A DELIGHT!  ESPECIALLY THE PART WITH THE HORSE! ANOTHER SUCESSFUL ADAPTATION OF ONE OF JANE AUSTEN'S MASTERPIECES."

THE MUSICAL!

P.S.  When my mom read this, she said, "Honey, Jane Austen didn't write Jane Eyre."  And I got huffy because how could she think I didn't know that? "I know, Mom!" Then, suddenly struck with the full force of my geekiness, "It was... um... meant to be a joke."  Whoo boy.

(10 Feb - just so you know, in case you were feeling anxious about it or cried as I did for about a week straight, I didn't get a C in Mythology.  My transcript is yet C-less.  Thank heaven.)