Sorry for the delay...bear with me.

Oh dear readers I have missed you this week. Okay, I haven't missed you all that much because I have been busy. I have done many a lovely and relaxing thing during the break with my parents. It will be my last family vacation while still living at home. I'm not quite sure what to think of this- it feels strange. A little sad, a little nostalgic. Mostly happy, though, as it was a wonderful vacation. We did all kinds of awesome stuff, like touring the College of William & Mary (which I simply MUST attend), shopping, swimming in a heated pool, going to the wonderfully gaudy Busch Gardens Christmastown, and walking the DoG (that's W&M slang for the mile-long Duke of Glouchester Street). Also, there was snow. Which was amazing.

I returned home on Christmas. It was raining the whole way home, or in the words of Luke Copeland by way of his brother, it was warm snowing. I made my mother play every CD I got for Christmas (there are 17) in the car. At home, we had our little prepackaged Christmas dinner. It was all quite quaint.

I don't have anything to make you think today, but I do have a few suggestions. One: see the film Avatar. It is beyond epic. Two: if you like French history or feminism, read Liberty by Lucy Moore. I'm in the midst of it now, and I find it immensely entertaining and interesting; it's nonfiction written like a novel, the story of the lives of several women from different walks of life before, during, and post the French Revolution. And three: listen to the album Dear Catastrophe Waitress by Belle & Sebastian. It's a few years old, and you've likely been exposed to it already, but it is so wonderful that I feel the need to implore you to hear it.

That is all, lovely readers. Until next time!

Un Autre Update

Happy Frietag, bloggity-followers. So far my day has been mildly entertaining...we voted for Senior Superlatives in homeroom. Interestingly, the same five people were in every category. My favorite was "Most Responsible", as one of the nominees recently had a DUI, or so the rumor goes. This just in- he was featured in The Slammer, a classy publication which prints people's mug shots. Charming. I hope he wins, although I might die of irony poisoning. It's like septicemia. Which is an Anatomy and Physiology ten-point word this week. There have been some fantastic words in that joke of a class this semester. For example, hematopoesis. I lahve this word so much that I attempt to work it into mundane conversation. I have failed thus far.

Something else that has come to pass this week- I dusted off my copy of the Beatles' Abbey Road. Okay, so I've listened to it a million times, but I've gone on a little Beatles hiatus lately. I lent the CD to a friend and upon its return to me, I started to listen to it again. It has been on constant rotation for a week now. I'm really into the song I Want You (She's So Heavy) with its sultry blues influences and grainy prog-rock vocals. It's awesome. Of course, there are better songs on the album, like Come Together, Here Comes The Sun, Maxwell's Silver Hammer, Octopus's Garden, and other such well-touted tracks, but I Want You (She's So Heavy) had so slipped under my radar that I'm really discovering it for the first time, which is an exhilirating feeling, an exhilirating feeling that hasn't happened with the Beatles and I for a long time. I know all their music so well that I rarely find myself discovering it. I believe the last time I discovered a new Beatles song to love was The Ballad Of John and Yoko about two years ago.

They're like an old friend, the Beatles, always picking me up when I'm down, and always there for me. I can always count on the Beatles when new music sucks or I get tired of hearing the same drumkit and electronica that gets so annoying after a while. In my little book of lists currently serving as my diary, I attempted to write a list of my favorite Beatles songs. I couldn't do it. I couldn't even begin. So here's to you, George. Here's to you, Paul. Here's to you, John. And...here's to you, Ringo. And here's to I Want You (She's So Heavy), because it's the last song on which all four of you joined together in the studio as the one special organism that made music history. You Fab Four have always been and will always be the voices on the soundtrack of my life.

Tuesdays

It feels as if it has been a month of Mondays, and in reality, it's only two days through the week. Augh, why must Tuesdays exist? It seems the only positive things that happen in relation to Tuesday are song lyrics:

• We are drinking beer at noon on Tuesday. (Sheryl Crow)
• Sun comes up, it's Tuesday morning. (Cowboy Junkies)
• Tuesday's gone with the wind. (Lynrd Skynrd)
• I believe it was a Tuesday when you caught my eye. (Taylor Swift)
• Tuesday morning, please be gone I'm tired of you. (Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young)

I suppose there are a few other positive things about Tuesday, like the chain restaraunt Ruby Tuesday or the junk store Tuesday Morning. As a general rule, however, it is a rather lame day. It's far enough from last weekend that you can't remember it clearly, but also far enough from next weekend that you can't look forward to it yet. So...I vote we abolish Tuesday altogether. Who's with me?