It's Just a Fantasy

So, we all have our little celebrity crushes. I mean, come on, we've all been faced with the question of "If such-and-such celebrity knocked on your door, would you run away with them?" And, generally, the answer is no.

And, I think, actually, that we're telling the truth when we say no.

But - here's the part we're not telling...

If this version - this character - of Brendon Urie appeared at my door and asked me to run away with him....? Yes. I'd go.

And it doesn't really matter because that's a fictional part of him so I can say yes without feeling guilty....(it's from this music video).

And if Chris Hemsworth came to my door? I'd slam it. I'd say, "Sure you're really cute but I'm just not interested, thanks." I would, however, be swept away by Thor. And ONLY this version of Thor. No other Thor will suffice.

Will I find comfort in these lyrics?

Jack Johnson and Matt Costa
Lullaby

When you're so lonely lying in bed
Night's closed it's eyes but you can't rest your head
Everyone's sleeping all through the house
You wish you could dream but forgot to somehow
Sing this lullaby to yourself
Sing this lullaby to yourself
And if you are waiting, waiting for me
Know I'll be home soon darling I guarantee
I'll be home Sunday just in one week
Dry up your tears if you start to weep
And sing this lullaby to yourself
Sing this lullaby to yourself
Lullaby, I'm not nearby
Sing this lullaby to yourself
Don't you cry, no don't you cry
Sing this lullaby to yourself
Cause when I arrive dear it won't be that long
No it won't seem like anytime that I've been gone
It ain't the first time it won't be the last
Won't you remember these words to help the time pass?
So when you're so lonely lying in bed
Night's closed it's eyes but you can't rest your head
Everyone's sleeping all through the house
You wish you could dream but forgot to somehow
Sing this lullaby to yourself
Sing this lullaby to yourself
Sing this lullaby, sing this lullaby
Sing this lullaby to yourself

I bet you didn't know.

I bet you'd never guess that I, some alien behind a Macbook, am a writer. Even more surprisingly, a painter, a singer, a flute and piano player and one helluva cook.

I am sitting here, next to an empty plate. I made the perfect pavlova earlier. The larger part of it looks slightly sad now, sitting cut in half on a cookie sheet.... but it won't have to worry much longer. Soon, it will be gone... joyfully eaten by all who pass by.

Poor poor pavlova.

Pavlova makes me think of my friend. Take away the "a" at the end, and you've got him. He's an interesting fella. I dunno if he'd actually consider me a friend... but my guess is... well, yeah, probably. I don't usually tell people all my secrets the first time I hang out with him - but that's what I did. He knows me better than a lot of people. I wonder if he can remember all the things I said. It's probably better for him to forget. You're probably confused, but that's okay - it's not for you to know.

School is starting up again. Back to school.... back to school :/ ... yuck. To be honest, school and I have never been great friends. I hate it, it hates me. I have no real motivation to impress teachers, and frankly, they don't really want to be impressed. If I write a sucky paper it doesn't mean they aren't getting paid. They don't care. Why should I? Oh ... because it's my future? Hmm. Well, I could always drop out 3/4 of the way through and go to Le Cordon Bleu. I'd love to cook for a living. People don't sigh or moan when you hand them the perfect piece of pineapple upside down cake or serve them a homemade chicken pot pie.
People DO moan and sigh when you say, even with enthusiam, "today we are going to diagram sentences" or when you hand them Lord of the Flies. I am going to be the enemy... and at the end of the day people will find refuge with their hot meals and tasty desserts and curse my name.

I think my younger brother is trying to imitate an elephant seal.
I better go watch.