In which a spade honor would be particularly worthless, I do not play bridge, and presidents wear prom dresses.

"A spade honor would be particularly worthless, since delcarer could take a winning finesse of dummy's jack."

Yes, you guessed it folks (well, let's face it, you probably didn't), that's your daily quote from the TNT's bridge column! Sure, I've never posted one before, but I do make it a point to read one sentence from the bridge column aloud, out of context, to my mom at least once a week. I'm pretty sure it makes our lives brighter. Seriously, guys. Just, go read that again. Try to understand what it's saying. You'll fail, but somehow it won't be a soul-crushing failure-- more of an encouraging failure. Trust me on this one.

(Unless, of course, you have a spade honor, which is PARTICULARLY worthless, in which case you probably feel pretty bad right now, and I'd like to apologize.)

I was talking to Caty at the Curriculum Fair tonight (do you all have whiplash from that total lack of a segue? er, oops) and we have decided that in May I should write a column that is completely and utterly unrelated to politics. You know, something along the lines of...

"Hey guys, this issue, I'm going to talk about stuff. Not stuff that is in any way, shape, or form relevant in your lives. Just...stuff. For example, I like my eyebrows. I think they're nice. I'm less fond of my nose, but that doesn't mean I don't want my nose-- I'm just not its biggest fan. I enjoy toasting leftover pancakes and pouring honey on them. I hate Twilight; it is the asparagus in the seven-course dinner of my soul. I plan to found a religion in which Douglas Adams is the messiah. Nothing will ever make sense, but no one will care because it's so funny, and when there are sudden and genuinely interesting revelations, they will be sufficiently well-disguised. While we're not at all on the subject, I think that the moment I became opposed to hunting was the moment the mom was shot in Bambi. Also, that's all. Bye now."

Hey, a girl can dream. I'm sure people would enjoy a massive, one-paragraph lesson (complete with example!) on...how not to write a personals ad?

In conclusion, would you like to know what Allison Janney has to say about life? THIS:

"One out of forty American men wears women's clothing. We've had more than forty presidents. One of these guys has been dancing around the Oval Office in a prom dress."

In which I still love Jack Prelutsky's poetry, and do what is basically nothing.

This poem is, quite possibly, the best thing since: ever. I loved this when I was a kid. We had an animated video that was basically a bunch of bananas dancing? And while they danced, they recited this poem. A+++.

Forty Performing Bananas, by Jack Prelutsky

We're forty performing bananas,
in bright yellow slippery skins,
our features are rather appealing,
though we've neither shoulders nor chins,
we cha-cha, fandango, and tango,
we kick and we skip and we hop,
while half of us belt out a ballad,
the rest of us spin like a top.

We're forty performing bananas,
we mambo, we samba, we waltz,
we dangle and swing from the ceiling,
then turn very slick somersaults,
people drive here in bunches to see us,
our splits earn us worldly renown,
we're forty performing bananas,
come see us when you are in town.


Admit it. That poem is so pun-y, you don't even know what to do with yourself (by "pun-y" I mean full of puns, not "an inappropriately hyphenated version of the word 'puny,' meaning small"). I'll accept all properly admiring comments on my taste in poetry starting...NOW.

Things I Have Done Since I Got Home Around 5:15:

1) Basically? Nothing.

1.5) Okay, so I watched a little West Wing. I'm not sure if this counts as a full something, so I'm giving it its own place as #1.5 on my list of "Things I Have Done Since I Got Home Around 5:15." I'm sure it feels very special.

2) More nothing.

In which I have nothing to say, and really want some cheesecake.

Here's an interesting concept: I have nothing to say.

I must have something to say. I always have something to say! Sure, it's not always an interesting something, but...You know. It's still something.

Things Which Are Happening RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE:

1. Sam and I are wishing we had the power to read minds.

2. My dad is falling asleep standing up in front of the fire.

3. A record is being recorded (that is so weird to type! pronounce those two words differently in your heads, please, it will make me feel better) on the computer next to me, so I'm being treated to jazz-y New Orleans blues? I am not sure how I would categorize this music, but it's fun.

4. There's cheesecake in the fridge. I want it.

See, so really not all that much. Now, if Sam and I actually do gain the power to read minds, that will give me something to blog about. ;]

In which things are numbered, someone's name is Chesley Sullenberger, and my dad gets a haircut.

A List of Unrelated, But Still Numbered, Things:

1. So-o...we watched 60 Minutes in Gov today. And this particular edition of 60 Minutes had Katie Couric interviewing Chesley Sullenberger (that is quite the name, sir!), the man who crash-landed the airplane in the Hudson River. I am sure many of you have seen it. For those who haven't, let me do a quick interview of you, Katie Couric style.

(A quick disclaimer: I sincerely admire Mr. Sullenberger. I think what he did was incredible, and I actually enjoyed his answers to Katie Couric's questions. But Katie Couric herself? NOT SO MUCH.)

Me: So, have you seen the 60 Minutes interview with Chesley Sullenberger?

You: No.

Me: Re-eally?

You: Really.

Me: Do you feel any sense of loss, any feeling that there's chaos, here, because you haven't seen it?

You: Not really.

Me: None at all?

You: Nope.

Me: Really?

You: Really.

Me: I'm sure this interview, at this point, seems like a long, excruciating, and interminable ordeal. Probably feels longer than three and a half minutes, huh?

You: No, not really.

Me:...Did you pray?

2. I had no homework today. I am, obviously disregarding Gov reading, since I do that in the morning when I get to school. Hey, I am a 7:10 arriver, folks.

3. My dad got a haircut!

In which I cannot choose cereal, dislike math, and am fond of people.

Things That Have, At One Point Or Another, Stressed Me Out:

1. Having to choose between two different breakfast cereals.

2. When my brother moved his drum set from the garage into his bedroom. Mom, Dad, I think it's about time we sound-proofed the whole shebang.

3. Those moments when you know you should be able to say something funny and really, you'd like to! But you can't think of a single thing to say that's even vaguely humorous.

4. Forgetting my math homework in third grade. I was convinced my teacher was going to flay me alive. Long story short: yes, I have always been like this. In fact, I used to be a heck of a lot more neurotic then I am now. Now I like to think I disguise my neuroses much more cleverly. ;]

5. Annie Wright. Er, the school. Not the person.

6. Math. Really, math in any form. My math stresses have run the gamut from having to learn the multiplication tables to finding the volume of a three-dimensional shape based on its two-dimensional graph (this concept was, actually, the Calculus thing I was best at-- keep in mind that we're grading on a curve here, and being "best at" a Calculus thing does not, for me, mean I was particularly good at it).

I don't really know why I felt the need to make a post about things that cause me stress. In retrospect, that's really kind of a downer. So! Let's balance it out just a tad, yes?

You know what's been making me happy lately? PEOPLE. Not, you know, all of them, because I can't think of any particular situation when everyone in the entire world would make me happy (maybe if everyone hugged a koala? at once? different koalas, obviously, because if everyone in the world hugged one koala, then-- yeah). But a lot of the people I know have been relatively fantastic lately. And by relatively, I do mean extremely. I know that college (ah! college!) is a stressful thing, and that it's not the only stress everyone's dealing with. But even so, people-- even the super-stressed ones-- have just been striking me as fantastic lately. Maybe I just ought to pay more attention. Maybe everyone is always fantastic. ;]

Or maybe no one is fantastic. Maybe everyone is in horrible moods, and they are just making me happy anyway, by virtue of existing. Please keep in mind, folks, that I do enjoy the fact that you exist.

If you're reading this blog, chances are you've made me happy lately, because I have been remarkably happy whilst at school lately. And I'm pretty sure it's down to people, not incredibly fascinating math assignments (math! ah!).

On the, "math! ah!" note (one that fully demonstrates, I think, my eloquence as well as my intelligence), I'm going to STOP TALKING. Or, I suppose, typing.

(I am actually stopping now. Really.)

In which there is geology, The Daily Show, and a distinct lack of context.

Want to know what my day was like? Here, have some out-of-context-Emily-quotes!

"Want to watch The Daily Show while you make eggs?"

"This class is resigned to our fate."

"NOT GEOLOGY, STUDYING ROCKS."

"Okay. There's you. Here's your arm. These two things belong...together."

"Why do we have the EXACT SAME NEUROSES?"

"They would clearly contaminate the mustaches with their pure evil."

"...She finds out her fiancee is cheating on her, and then they break up, and there's some introspection, and then she decides maybe she didn't want to get married anyway!"

"This is a baby. Or a snowman. Or a baby snowman."

I will readily acknowledge that this tells you exactly NOTHING about my day, but, you know. I enjoyed myself. ;]