Firstly, thanks to Kelly for the lovely Flogging Molly cd copy. Amazing! I adore Flogging Molly. Which actually has something to do with what I wanted to discuss today!
Firstly, I received a 100 on my essay on "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot in AP English class. I don't know if I've mentioned this accomplishment before, but I'm willing to remention it. My latest essay? "Mad Song", written by a fourteen-year-old William Blake. Firstly, he was only fourteen, secondly, he's Irish. Anyone who's endured the hardships of my race and accomplished such greatness at so young is worthy of my attention. Another great poem for you to read: "The Forsaken Merman" by Matthew Arnold. Look it up, read it, and if you have questions about what it means, I'll gladly tell you a little Irish mythology to digest with it!
A-hem.
Did you ever notice how strange Americans are? Now, I know that I have some foreign readers from time to time, so those people will understand even better what I'm saying than my fellow Americans. But the rest of us have to stay open-minded while I bring this us.
Have you ever noticed just how hospitable Americans are? I mean, if I were to meet you, I'd love you, no matter who you are, until you prove me incorrect. I'd call you by your first name the minute I shake your hand. No "Mister", "Master", "Misses" or so on. Well, unless you were inherently older than myself. And, worse than that, if you were to ask me about my day, heck, I'd tell you! No euphemisation at all! It's American custom that one topic of conversation is a life story-- where you were born, where you've worked, even maritial problems or anything. That's all fine to talk about.
And money! For heaven's sake, just walk up to a random stranger and ask her how much she paid for a purse in America, she'll tell you happily (adding on an extra ten dollars, of course). Even pay-checks are discussed among warm-acquaintances.
See, I've been learning that in France, this just isn't the case. That's why we're weird! But, in a really good way. Or so I think.
Well, that was it. I guess. I had a really big speech arranged in my mind before this that was thought-provoking and interesting, and then my mum handed me a copy of Bazaar Magazine with Catherine Zeta-Jones and my attention turned to the new Chanel line instead.
Who else just adores Chanel this season? Ahhh! I could just live in one of those huge fur jackets.... why do I have no qualms about fur all of a sudden? I'd prefer faux-fur forever and for always, but fur is so nice. My favourite people to emulate in style are: Uma Thurman, Zeta-Jones, Vanessa Paradis, Pen�lope Cruz (especially her newest gowns, so pretty!), and Charlize Theron. Except, I'd like to emulate their style, but unless I'm given a couple million dollars to do it with, I'm really not capable of that. But the classy, shiny, old-world style of dress is so pretty.
I hate to sound so shallow, I don't watch the Style Network everyday, I never obsess over fasion, and I'd never truly care about what people think of me. Though, sometimes it's nice to sit around and study the lines of fabric to match the human form in magazines, and see the use of colour on something so multi-dimensional and... it's not like clothing is a painting, you can see a piece of clothing from all sides, you can see it move. A director in a movie can cut out imperfections, a painter can hide the impurities, but a really good fashion designer has to accomplish magnificence on all sides. And it's usually very easy to distinguish the bad from the good, even with the difference in everyone's taste. A dress can look simply bad on or absolutely perfect. It has to take skill to do that, it just has to.
But I still prefer film. *sniff* I suppose I'm just snooty like that.
I still feel like I'm going to implode. I feel so on-edge lately. Tomorrow is a French Club party, at someone's house, and we're going to have Chinese Gift-giving, prank-gifts, French Christmas Carols, and pizza! I'm so excited. I love French, and the French Club, and the French Honours Society. Not necessarily all of the people in it. Someone should bake a Yuletide Log, or a Three Kings Cake. When is Three Kings Day?
Well, I know this much: It's the fourth night of Chanukah! YAY! Happy Chanukah, everyone! I've been thinking about giving out my itty-bitty Christmas gifts on Tuesday as Chanukah gifts, and reserve my big gifts for my closest friends for the following Tuesday, which will be the last day of school before Christmas break... I think... Okay, I have no idea.
Well, I have to go. Sorry for wasting your time with this entry. But I feel slightly more centered...
I think I scared my stand-partner today in orchestra when I realised I was doing the wrong page of French homework. I swear, I'm going insane. Like, if you were to just meet me, you would either think I am highly artistic or eccentric. But I make sense to me! I need to chill out... I need to read something...
Yesss... read...
SILENCE, TRAITOR! - 2006-05-10
Irish History - 2006-05-02
Goodbye Bio! - 2006-05-01
DANCE, WATER! DANCE! - 2006-04-26
Gaaaaaah. - 2006-04-24