1. Offering to teach British Lit to my poor, trusting little sister. I've mentioned once or twice before that I am profoundly unqualified for the job. Now that I've used up almost the entire summer watching Gaudy Night and Lady in the Water*, and am consequently scrambling to put everything together, the realization of how completely inadequate my feeble murmurs about Paradise Lost will actually be when compared to good, sound pieces of scholarship has sort of plopped on me in one large mass of despair, like the blob. I'm telling myself that if I behave in a very confident, businesslike way, there's a good chance she won't notice that I don't actually know anything. My college British lit teacher might have been a total moron - but he was so sure of himself, and wore such nice Oxford don hats that I accepted every word as gospel.
2. Declaring that I will read (or at least finish) a book a day for a year. Only a true fool would do such a thing.
3. Giving up sugar and bread for a week. I can't. I'm addicted and I accept it, and now I would just like to get on with life and eat Nutella and toast, thank you.
4. I should never tell people I have nothing to do with myself. Kelsey, LISTEN. DO NOT do this ever again. When you do, people send you to ludicrously early doctor appointments and you find yourself taking care of small children. I really don't understand why people trust me with their children or pets or anything they value. I wear sweaters backwards on a regular basis. This afternoon, for instance.
5. Vowing not to buy any more music until I have learned the words to all the songs I've already got - and also get very familiar with the instrumental ones as well. This is going to be embarrassing, but:
990 - soundtracks
120 - jazz
155 - The Beatles
1,538 - everything else
Grand total: 2,803 songs
I probably know - and I mean really know - somewhere around a third of that amount. Nobody on earth except maybe Karl Lagerfeld has an excuse not to know the music they own. And it seems silly for even Lagerfeld to buy so much.
5. Also vowing that I will not check out any more library books until I've read all the un-read books I own. Why did I even buy some of this stuff? It all looks very nice and learned on the shelves, but they must change in transit - because when I've got them off the shelves and open, they've magically become boring.
There are more, trust me. But now I'm going to go do something fun. Take a bath or read Shakespeare and the Invention of the Human. Woof.
(*You can probably guess which one I liked more. I did admire Bryce Dallas Howard's blonde eyelashes, but I think I've watched Gaudy Night at least four times now. I really am trying to give that M. Night guy a chance, but all the films I've seen have been let-downs. I'm contemplating giving The Village a view. The only thing is, I am a huge chicken. To give you an idea of the level of wimpy-ness I have sunk to - I have to close my eyes when Gollum comes onscreen in Lord of the Rings. So will The Village scare me completely out of my mind? What about Signs or the Haley Joel Osment one, for that matter? It's hard to want to risk it when happier things are out and about.)