Hay Girls,

In order to celebrate out reunion on Christmas break, I have decided to start a countdown. So about once a week I will have the number of days until Christmas. The good news is that all of you will probably be on break before Christmas(thus this report is not completely infallible and we may accually see each other before it's over), and the bad news is that there are still exactly forty days until Christmas! We miss you college gals....alot....I just talked to Desdemona about this.....

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Please pander to my penchant for Youtube videos, and pause to watch this preview:





A few questions come to mind after watching this:

1. Why does this look so adorable?
2. How do people learn to be so funny?
3. Why is Michael Cera so fantastically amazing?

Emma

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." ---Mr. Knightley

There is a new Mr. Darcy in town, girls, and his name is George Knightley.

After re-reading Pride and Prejudice in March (see previous posts about character research), I had the brilliant idea to re-read all the Jane Austen novels. Things went along swimmingly until I hit Emma.

I've been reading (or rather: not-reading)Emma since May.

I'm not kidding.

Let's not judge, shall we?

Anyhow, I finished it last night, and I have to admit-it's probably now one of my favorite Jane Austens! Although, come to think of it, the only Jane Austen that I've re-read that I haven't fallen head over heels in love with is:
*whispers*

Northanger Abbey.

Please don't kill me, Cecilia!

*hides*

Anyhow. Emma. One of my favorite lines is this:

"It darted through her with the speed of an arrow that Mr. Knightley must marry no one but herself!"

The slow growth of her love, and then it's sudden realization is so truthful, beautiful and touching. It reminds me of my favorite Pride and Prejudice quote:
"I was in the middle before I knew I had begun."--Darcy. Love comes softly, as my sister would say. Mr. Knightley tells Emma, "I could not think about you so much without doating on you, faults and all; and by dint of fancying so many errors, have been in love with you ever since you were thirteen at least." C.S. Lewis would say that love, like Heaven, works backwards. It shines a new, clear light on all our past thoughts, emotions, and actions. Love sneaks up on Emma-she has been distracting herself and in total oblivion, completely ignoring it. But, then, she realizes in a heartbeat that she's been disregarding what she should have embraced.

It's a beautiful love story-I definitely recommend reading it, or re-reading it soon!

And hopefully, it won't take you 6 months.

I am SO sick of being called sexy, of being whistled at, of being told I look fine, of being told that I'm hot, of being told that I have great curves, etc. Excuse me, but have any of you Washburn people thought that I'm maybe struggling with vanity and that those comments (do) (not) (help)? No, you haven't. I do NOT want to be placed in the position of being worried about how I look to people. It doesn't matter. As long as I groom myself properly, dress modestly, and don't belch in your face, I know I am perfectly fine. I do NOT need your reassurance on the matter that God blessed me with a particular beauty. Thank you very much. Now stop. The end. Period. The matter is OVER.

No, never mind. It's not. I do my very, very best to dress modestly, and guys still can't straighten up their act. I threw away almost my entire wardrobe a little over a year ago just for the sake of being modest. WHERE IS THE RESPECT, PEOPLE?!

And this isn't even the guys' fault. It's the adults. Guys seemed to have been raised to treat women like sex objects. And why shouldn't they? Guess what's constantly being thrown in their faces day in and day out? Women who dress like SEX OBJECTS. The generation before us FAILED. They failed us in so many ways, and we're going to fail our next generation if we don't clean up our act.

In other news: my college history class prohibited me from getting a 4.0 GPA. Four A's and a B+ later, I come out with...Uh, I don't know. What's my GPA? Does it matter? Not really. Who cares? Me. Yeah, that's been figured out by now. I'm such a little perfectionist. And you know what perfectionism means--pride. Hmm mmm. Way to go, Brittany.

I'm actually not in a bad mood. I just woke up from a nap, and waking up from a nap always makes you semi-grumpy because your sleep cycle was interrupted. Anyway, I sat straight up and decided to blog about my feelings towards guys. And now I have. Cornell notes are awaiting me. I do not want to do them. I must, however. Le sigh.

Farewell.

Maybe I have been studying poetry too long, but doesn't the following sentence have great alliteration?

I have endeavored to endure the demanding routine....

This sentence can be found in one of my college essays. However, I just noticed its great alliteration(my poetic potential has never been portrayed so clearly), and it really describes all of us right now, so....

Happy Tuesday!!!!

And.

A picture is worth one thousand words.

A Fine Line

The picture speaks for itself.

Photo credit: Wide Open Spaces

5 Quick Takes Saturday

1.

The past couple of Fridays have seen me being called in to do something unexpected. Last weekend it was going on in Alice. Yesterday, it was a call from work to go on as a character. It was nice, because I got my calculus homework done between runs. And anything, even being trapped inside a stuffy, sweaty box and being punched and poked by little kids, is heaven compared to finding derivatives... PHF=80

2.

There was an absolutely gorgeous, humongous orange harvest moon last night. PHF=90.

3.

Security guards rock. Majorly. I had a nice exchange with one at one of the entrances. And as I was leaving, a security guard drove by on a segway. That's right. On a Segway. PHF=95.

4.

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5.

Have you seen the homepage of Google these past few days? PHF=100

Announcement

I've added a list of noteworthy blogs to the sidebar. All of them are simply amazing. If you have a spare hour two (seriously, you will spend hours on these blogs), go thou and check them out.