In the past week I have: visited family in MBS; had a final meeting for Jamaica where I got a T-shirt and took a team picture; spent a small fortune on iTunes; went to see McFarland with the youth group Friday night; had brunch with friends Saturday morning; spent a slightly smaller fortune at Encore and a much larger fortune at Target (all for Jamaica, except for the clothes I bought for work. Oh, and the clothes I bought just because); read a book about Jane Austen; read a book by Jane Austen, if you count the last half of Emma and the first half of Mansfield Park as comprising a book; got commissioned for Jamaica at church; did laundry for the week; and redesigned the Jamaica blog.
Here are some thoughts on that:
• I love our Jamaica T-shirts. They’re the right sort of loose and they’re so soft.
• I love music and the amount I’ve bought in a year is absolutely pitiful compared to what I used to spend in high school and to a lesser extent college. In any case, if you haven’t got albums by Everfound, Lindsey Stirling, Rush of Fools, and [the single on the upcoming album by] Hillsong, you need to spend you a small fortune on iTunes too.
• You should go see McFarland if you have any love of movies that are based on true stories, that have to do with sports, that are funny, and that beautifully illustrate life. You should also see McFarland if you like to see absolutely poor translation in action. Dear Hollywood, colegio ≠ college. Universidad = college. Colegio = high school. Love, Annie the Cranky Catracha
• In other movie-related news I have been to the movie theatre thrice in three weeks which is twice more than I usually go in a year.
• Instead of weeks in that last bullet, I typed wicks. I know how to type, I promise. By “I promise” I mean “I think.”
• I’ve never been one of those people who could drop $80 at Target on a whim because I literally could never afford it. And so to have basically done twice that this weekend was weird and thankfully possible because hello, I did actually need like 98% of those things. But only like 98%.
• I’m starting to catch Jane Austen’s irony and satire in her novels now and IT IS SO MUCH THE FUN. It’s fairly obvious in Lady Susan but I never caught it in her other novels, so it’s been fun to reread them with that in mind.
• JAMAICA IS THIS WEEK.
• ALSO WE HAVE A BLOG:
I’m not 100% sure that will stay the header, but for now, it’s what we’ve got.
I’m dead center in the front row. There are 20 students and 5 staff going and we leave this Saturday. I can’t wait to come back and write all about it BUT HAVE YOU HEARD?!: we have a blog, and you should follow it.
About the time I finished up redesigning said Jamaica blog, my roommate came home; we had a fun chat about the trip and then we started talking about books, which we then began swapping between ourselves, AND THEN, if that were not enough fun, we discovered her cache of yearbooks from both her senior year of high school and from teaching last year. Y’all. It’s like vintage Facebook.
Also I have four more books to add onto my never-ending list; C lent me Jewel by Bret Lott, Oh My Stars by Lorna Landvik, Luncheon of the Boating Party by Susan Vreeland, and The Soloist by Steve Lopez.
I’ve never heard of any of those, so if you have read them, I would love your (UNSPOILING) opinions. All I really have to say in anticipation of them is if Vreeland is anything like The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova I might sob.
I hate that I – honestly? – hated The Swan Thieves, because I LOVED The Historian. The Swan Thieves was too slow and should’ve been half the length.
And that is all I have to say about that.
Also if you have not seen Cinderella, you have new plans for tonight. If a Monday night movie feels about as ill-fitting as literally glass shoes, I hear they’re actually quite comfortable. Consider too I hate movie theatres and I have seen Cinderella twice: once on opening day and the second time less than a week later. If that’s not a recommendation, I’m not sure it’s in my power to know how to make one.
I took today’s post title from Mansfield Park; they’re preparing to put on a play and Mary Crawford asks Fanny to help her rehearse, but not before rambling for half a page, at the end of which she says, “Now for my soliloquy.” The irony made me smile. Speaking of which [pun intended]: