that wasn't TIME, it was one of Jay's trash magazines. We were picking the kids up from his babysitting, and as usual, I flipped through that nonsense. Funny how I care zero suddenly for any of the celebrities in there, suddenly I'm like, scanning only for Will Ferrell, and hoping not to find him kissing on his wife. If he has one. I'm just modest like that, has nothing to do with being jealous. Will can do whatever's good for his career, so long as he keeps singing. And that applies to everyone.
My favorite movie that Will was in was that drama where he was living the life written by an author. Can't remember the name, knowing Will was in it is enough. His singing made me cry right there in the movie theater, he has the most beautiful soul ever, and convinced me that buying a guitar and learning to play was a good idea. It's not, but at the time I believed it with all my heart.
I really hate it when the best talent in all of Hollywood doesn't get placed in dramas where he belongs, and instead is forced to keep doing comedy. Oh well, I can't remember why I even brought this up, oh yeah, wait a second.
It was a funny moment I had when I read that article on Rachel Dratch. I almost clipped Amy Poehler's photo out because she looked so beautiful, but then I thought, what, am I in high school. It didn't take more than a minute to realize having a collage of Tina Fey pictures tucked under my bed would be stalker-ish, and totally taint how I see myself, let alone my hopes for great talent. What is with me mixing up all these names today?
Well, I'm not going to change it. Blame it on the weather yet again. I always do.
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