If I ever got the chance to meet Shakira, I would hug her and never let go. Then I would ask her to be my second big sister. That would be the most logical situation, given that I will never release her from said hug.
I have had her album, Donde Están Los Ladrones? playing in my car pretty much on repeat since I bought it in September. Yeah, really. When I feel like switching to something else and I can’t find anything on the radio, I generally listen to her newest album, Sale el Sol.
I may have a problem. I have a buttload more of her music on my iPod, but since that rarely makes it longer than an hour or so in the car, I’m left with just those two CDs, and I have a hard time finding others in stores. Time to hit up Amazon because for the past week, I’ve felt the intense need to blast this song in my car
SHAKI, WHY ARE YOU SO AMAZING?
How I watch the Oscars: wait excitedly to see the opening number, then leave show on mute until the best actor/actress categories.
It’s working well so far.
If King Colin of Firth does not win Best Actor, I will need to go talk to some food about it.
And with that procrastination done, back to making the PR Outline of Death. Blerg.
“Orson Welles was a madman…he was fueled mostly by whisky, adrenaline, and hormones.”
I am too emotionally invested in my afternoon naps. The first thought I had when I found two of my classes were cancelled today was, “aw yeah, 3 hour break? TWO HOUR NAP.”
In other news, last weekend I discovered rosemary bread is almost better than naps. I demolished an entire loaf within two days (with a little help from my roommates, but let’s be honest–I probably ate 3/4 of it).
And I’m going back for more this weekend. Can’t be helped.
Valentine’s Day: An excuse to wear lots of red and excessive amounts of heart jewelry with no judgment passed. I’m embracing it fully.
Happy Valentine’s Day! Or, in the world is 30 Rock, Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day!