Yes, only $.50. Because that's about how much my advice is worth. It's better than free advice, but not by much. My ears, however are free, and that's because they're good. They're always there for you. But you know, for being single my whole life, and having basically botched any chances at relationships I've had in the past, and the amount of issues I've had with sorts of things like that...people come to me for relationship woes a lot.
I don't mind at all. I'm always there for someone who needs to talk to just talk, and I'll listen. If they want advice, I'll try to give some. But really, why me? It just doesn't make sense to me. Friends in the past have said it's because they know I'll listen (and I will. If anyone ever needs to talk to someone, call me up, no matter the time of day. Seriously). But when I start to give advice to I think, "Whoa. Rachel. What are you doing? You are not qualified to give that advice. In fact, if someone gave you that advice you would say, 'yeah, I know' but wouldn't do it. You shouldn't give advice you wouldn't do yourself."
Also. Today I was playing Debussy and Ravel because I'm taking summer piano lessons from my old teacher Bonnie and I was thinking, "This is impressionistic music. I want to write a personal essay." Yep. That was my train of thought. Now, if you had read some of my personal essays I wrote in England, that train of thought would make much more sense. But anyway. Then I thought of how Katie P. once said that she couldn't finish having an experience now because she always started to tie it into a possible essay and we all (read: everyone who was there at the time of this conversation which might have just been me but was probably only just me and/or a couple other people) agreed. I thought the essaying thing would stop when we left England, but apparently not. Which is a good thing. Except I never write in my journal anymore because my life is boring and/or we're not allowed to actually do stuff at the kiosk except sit and be bored. You can only straighten shirts so many times! It can't unfold itself! Which is why I'm excited to get the store where there will be more busy work to do instead of just sitting there bored as heck all the time and wishing that I could be writing when I can't because I'm sitting on a chair in the middle of the mall trying to look enthusiastic and not bored and hoping that some poor soul will stop and buy like $100 worth of shirts to keep me occupied for an hour. The end of that tangent. Sorry about that.
Um. So. I'm rereading Harry Potter. The British versions. I've probably already said that on here. But I'm almost done with number 4. As in, Cedric Diggory is dead and Voldemort has risen and is about to reveal his evil plot to Harry and then they'll duel. But I'm not their yet. I'm simply about to start Chapter 33: The Death Eaters and Voldemort has just risen. So I don't know about the whole creepy wand thing, Priori Incantatem, that's about to happen, or that all but 3 of my favorite characters will die in the next 3 books (REALLY JK Rowling!!!! You'd think a girl could keep at least HALF her list of characters she didn't want to die). ANYWAY (Dee-may-lo! I am so long winded...sorry peeps). I had forgotten how magical these books are. When reading the first one, maybe it's because I started it on the grass outside Westminster Abbey, but I was enraptured anew. And this is reading the book for about the 25th time. Given it was the first time in two years, since I reread the entire series in 2007 before the 7th book came out, but still. I don't remember it having been that amazing. Although, it had to have been for me to become obsessed with it. Also, I had forgotten how endearing Fred and George are. And Oliver Wood. And surprisingly Cedric Diggory. I liked him a lot this time around. I don't think I did before. In fact, I liked him so much that I was still shocked when he died. I knew it was going to happen and I was still shocked. Hey, thanks, JK Rowling. Even though you kill almost all my favorite characters, you did create a book series I can devote my life to and love whole-heartedly and read and reread 20 million billion times and still be absolutely in love with it and still be surprised and feel emotions the way I did the first time around. Or stronger. Hooray. Sigh. I love books.
I'm sorry I'm so long-winded. I wouldn't be surprised if people actually don't even read all this because most of it is just me rambling on about nothing really.
Oh, and thanks Emma Richey, for wanting me to go back to Tintagel and eat Custard Cremes and play with you. Remember that one time we were on the Isle of Wight going up to the Downs and you ate them all before I got any? Yeah, me too. BECAUSE I DIDN'T GET ANY! But I still love you anyway. :) Do they have Custard Cremes in the States? Harry Potter and Fred and George's Canary Creams make me really want to eat some...Emma, I'll share them with you. Anyone else can come too.
Okay, I'm really going to stop now. I mean it! Stop laughing at me! I am. Really. This is the end. Goodnight. P.S. I love you all. And Cheers. Kay. Bye. For reals.