Look alikes?

At this point, I'm not even sure how I got started on an online face recognition/celebrity matching site, but somehow I did. After trying several pictures, apparently I don't look a hell of a lot like anyone (must be my exotic Eskimo features), and most of them were obscure c-listers I've never heard of. (Interestingly, about 50% were asian; I guess it is just a Bearing Strait away from my mother country.)

However, I thought I'd share a few of the stranger/funnier results.

First name to pop up: Pharrell Williams. Well that's good for the self esteem. 

Also got Tiger Woods, Conor Oberst and Apolo Anton Ohno. Jackie O, Michelle Branch and Kate Winslet I can deal with. Penelope Cruz, Natalie Portman and some Victoria's Secret model are A-okay. Helped soften the blow from being told I look like Ashley Olsen (bleh!) 

Now the best, and I can't decide which is my favorite: 
THIS saucy fellow, Oscar Wilde  OR My clearly kindred soul, Bob Marley

On a side note, in a myspace-style photo Gab had taken of herself with my camera, she looks 97% like Angelina Jolie. 

And one for Emily

The origins of Cataract?

How the magic happens plus T-Pain waxes poetic...

For Gab: 

The Lonely Island - Making of I'm On a Boat, Feat. T-Pain

Soo... It's 1 AM

I'm sitting in bed doing homework/blogging. Class was cancelled today, giving me extra time to not do my homework. I *just* finished my fiction rewrite, which is hopefully good enough since I don't have time to think on it. I can't figure out how to decide when I'm done with something. I don't think I could finish anything without a deadline to decide for me. 

I'm talking to Gab and Emily about growing up and how weird it's going to be. I hope I'm a good enough writer that I'll have an publisher demanding more work from me and giving me deadlines so I get shit done.

PS, my head just imploded

=

PS, I just found out that Bret McKenzie was not just any old extra in Lord of the Rings, but the infamous, enigmatic Figwit! What?! Bret's got it goin' on.

What?

I would like a scholarly expert to conduct an anthropological study in the dining hall and explain people to me. I don't understand. 

First off, why does the Dining Hall shirt and apron make you invisible? Even if I'm somehow rendered inhuman and unfeeling by the nasty rubber gloves, I'm still a sizable piece of matter, so I don't understand how people just run into me and don't notice.

Why is it so difficult to get the food ON the plate rather than the floor?

Why must you stand and hold conversations in inconvenient places? 

Do you not believe me when I say we're out of something? Because, no, I am not going to double check. 

Most perplexing: Who eats three takeout containers full of vegetables and nothing else!! Stop that, I don't want to refill the entire salad bar every time you come through. Eat some real food, you won't need so many peppers.

What this flat needs is a globile...

We are classy individuals here in 201A.

No place like home

Here is the newly fantastic view from my desk. Behind me (across the expansive space of the room) is our breakfast nook, with the sun shining through the vocab curtain.

This is what I accomplished in Bio today...

I've discovered I like drawing draft horses. And I'm trying out some old-fashioned looking techniques, looking at old sketches of plow horses. 

Thought vomit

I like the English House. It's a nice place to have class, and a beautiful house. I think when I grow up I want to live in a house that looks like the English House, although there are a lot of beautiful houses in Bryn Mawr/Rosemont, so I haven't completely decided on which one I want yet. But it will be old and dignified and full of books.

My creative writing class is actually crippling, but I love it. My story last week was physically exhausting to write, so seeing it come together finally was doubly rewarding. My professor gave me a glowing review for being '50% there.' I was both elated and horribly humbled that my absolute, gut-bleeding best is still just 50%. My story this week was no where near the same level, it was actually really disappointing. I was really frustrated, but it was the sort of frustrating that makes me want to work at it, so I guess that's good.

I had a riding lesson today that was pretty good, we got to jump which was exciting. I rode Camelot for the first time, he is a lot of fun. I'm annoyed at myself for messing up my course. It was one of those things where I could see my perfect ride then as soon as I started it all disappeared. I need to work on supporting with my leg more, I have this vision of a great, forward, up canter, I get him up in my hand and then I chicken out on following through with my leg, so then I'm just choked up on him and in a disorganized trot. If I could keep my balanced canter through the turn, I could have ridden my line to the jump better and probably avoided all my problems. Oh, the things that are so clear in retrospect.

Sense and Sensibility was a really disappointing movie. What a waste of Alan Rickman as a romantic lead. He was fabulous, dashing, charming, perfect and she broke his heart, then after she gets her heart broken, she marries him. What? You don't settle for Alan Rickman. And there was absolutely no romance between them... nobody even kissed. Not the sweeping romance I was expecting. Why couldn't Alan Rickman play Mr. Darcy??