We Must Sing, We Must Sing, We Must Sing

I went to Lauren's tonight and watched The Duchess, with Keira Knightley (a favorite actress of mine, despite the stupid "too thin" criticisms--she's just so pretty!). It was really, really good; full of lovely costumes and places and gorgeous hair, and good-looking guys (actually, just one, though Charles Grey's face wasn't much to my liking...without a shirt? yes please!).

Anyway, we also played Guitar Hero 3; subpar to World Tour, but still fun. We did co-op career mode and got about half-way through; obviously, we are obsessed and well on our ways to carpal tunnel syndrome.

Raegan tried to play that stupid walkie-talkie trick on me again today. She has her friend (today, Priya) stand outside my door with the walkie-talkie, and she stands in another room and calls my name. It's really obvious, the walkie-talkie's all staticky, but she seems to think it's utterly hilarious. It's cute, I guess, but annoying.

It was really cold driving home, and this car (all black, with really tinted windows!) seemed to be following me as I left Lauren's (followed me out of her neighborhood), and was incredibly creepy (even though I know that it's highly unlikely). Luckily it went straight when I turned. Phew. I was shaking the whole way home, but more because it's like twenty degrees outside and I didn't have any gloves.

"Cocoon" by The Decemberists is really pretty. I'm listening to it right now. I hadn't really paid much attention until now, but it's lovely.

Title from "At the Bottom of Everything" by Bright Eyes, the song I should memorize for the next time Charlie plays it. I'm tired of him and Matt knowing parts of it and me being like "I KNOW THIS I KNOW THIS BUT WHAT ARE THE WORDS?!" and wanting to show off my indie-ness to cute indie boys.

I kind of want to write, but it's 10:46, and I need some sleep. Probably not good, seeing as I never want to write anymore and this would be a good chance to do so, but I'm a senior citizen at heart and need to get some sleep.

Actually...would a senior citizen get so much enjoyment out of a guy wearing only a partially-unbuttoned pair of very 18th c. breeches?