Oooh, goodness. It's like the day that never ends, isn't it? I really wish that the summer wouldn't end, so I could actually grasp it by the over-grown horns and try to have fun a second-time around. Because this summer was just one loooong waste of time. Only two days until the next AP meeting, and I'm only half-way through the first of two books necessary for said meeting. So I guess I'm skipping and mindlessly cramming... again. So, that's fine. It's actually so fine that it's fin, and for the sake of le fin, I'll finish this subject and move along.
Has anybody ever seen Growing Up Gotti? It's really funny. Victoria Gotti has, like, five million kids. And they're all boys. They're a very handsome family, I must say, but it seems as though some of the boys need some kind of speech therapy. I've never seen a show where so much English actually needed sous-titres... what's the English word for that? Now, if that wasn't a convient lapse of memory... subtitles! That's right! I've never seen a television show that required that many subtitles since the "Your Mom is Hot" episode of Jerry Springer. I'm KIDDING! I've never seen Jerry Springer. Though I'm probably right anyway. Every person on Jerry Springer, much like every criminal on Cops, has no teeth and no birth certificate. Poor, ugly, ugly, disgusting things. Wretched things. Ugly. What was I originally talking about?
So, Civil War Days at the Public Library is on September the 11th. What wonderful timing! When some people are mourning the loss of their loved ones on airplanes just three years ago, they'll be firing canons for the heck of it. Or maybe even in the name of Southern slave-drivers that died over 150 years ago. Hmm... I might go anyway. I wanted to dress up for it, and set up a booth full of my mum's stuff. But I didn't know how to go about it, no matter how fun it would be. Like walking around in five petticoats and a metric ton of cotton fabric in near 90 degree weather will be really fun. I'll get right on it... maybe in the winter. Ah, what the heck, dressing up and waxing your own candles will never lose its charm! But who will come with me? My brother hates it, and my mum needs to be with my brother, and my dad lives in New York and is embarassed by my family, so what? I'll walk. That's it! I'll ride my bike to Civil War Days, in five petticoats and a metric ton of cotton, all in near 90 weather, and purely to wax my own candles. Hurrah!
What else? Uhmm... I suppose I should be reading Wuthering Heights, but it's so garsh dern good. I can't read it because it's too good. I swear on my life that it's been a long time since I've read a book of this calibur. Like almost a month. And as soon as it's over, I'm heading on over to Daniel Deronda. Poor chap. It's strange that it advocated Jewish rights while it was written by a woman who had to take a male nom-de-plume to simply publish a book. That just definitely deepens the meaning. Go George Eliot! GO! And then I have to read Jane Eyre. I've been meaning to for awhile, but if Charlotte Bronte is anywhere as good at writing as her sister, then it must be a fantastic book. Go Bronte! Sorry I can't do the accent over the "e", my ALT button isn't working... I spilt hot tea on the keyboard a few months ago... I thought it was an empty cup, so I picked it up rather carelessly, it burnt my hand, and fell onto the keyboard and Mum and I had to clean it all up... don't tell Dad, he'd disown me even further than he already has.
What else have I to say for myself? Don't look at my family diary. The pictures are far too incriminating. *sigh* I'm so hideous. I should just become a social recluse and write gothic novels concerning the trials and tribulations of two houses on the British moors.
The title is from Will & Grace. It might not make as much sense out-of-context, but maybe that's just because I'm sincerly running out of good quotes, and I'm simply not clever enough to think of my own. Pity me.