I get really into it, because you can’t half-ass Celine Dion. Unfortunately, doing justice to Celine Dion requires so much effort and concentration that little things like remembering where I’m driving fall to the wayside. I’ll be halfway to Canada before I remember that I only meant to make a coffee run.

My excuse today is that I was doing Celine Dion AND Barbra Streisand. My trip to Target was forgotten in favor of putting my heart and soul into this vocal masterwork, my favorite song in sixth grade:

When it gets to the key change, I do this:

It’s a reflex, developed over years of singing into a hairbrush in front of my bedroom mirror.

I should probably stop singing in my car.

I don’t, because they might not catch the film reference and think I was just rude, like when I told the door-to-door salesman, “I’m gonna give you to the count of ten to get your ugly, yellow, no-good keister off my property, before I pump your guts full of lead!” and he didn’t realize I was quoting a movie. Awkward!

I’ve seriously watched this video like, seventeen times, and have come to several realizations:

1. Newsies was freaking amazing and I need to see it again.

2. Christian Bale is gorgeous.

3. Lady Gaga is awesome, but would be awesomer (not a word) if she did a duet with Christian Bale.

4. Christian Bale should be in more musicals. If we could convince him to be in an episode of Glee, I’d honestly pee myself, and then die of a mixture of happiness and embarrassment. I’m mounting a “Get Bale on Glee” Facebook campaign.

5. Christian Bale is gorgeous.

6. Christian Bale is gorgeous.

Anyway, the hacker sent everybody in my contact list an email saying that I’d been mugged in a park in Wales, and that my flight left in a few hours, and I needed money soon to pay the hotel, which was holding me hostage for non-payment. You know what heartless sticklers those Welsh hoteliers are. Apparently the American embassy was also turning a blind eye to my predicament.

The logical fallacies in this approach are numerous, and perhaps the least of the problems was that the email was riddled with grammatical errors and sounded nothing like me. And you can bet that were I ever to be mugged in Wales, the last way I’d deal with it would be to send a message to everybody I’ve ever emailed, including former bosses and boyfriends.

Aside from the obvious embarrassment of people thinking I’m the sort of person who begs for money from ANYBODY, having my email hacked means that somebody had access to my information. I emailed myself my password for bank accounts and credit cards. Not smart! Luckily, our hacker was kind of an idiot and didn’t think to try to steal from me, instead of my contacts.

But it wasn’t just the email. Our hacker friend also tried chatting with anybody and everybody on gchat. My friend TL caught on to the ruse pretty quickly, since you know, I speak English and the hacker didn’t.

TL: What’s your birthday?

Hacker: what is all this question all about i need you to get me out of this mess

TL: Try to get a real life, rather than getting free money from other people.

Hacker: your mama mamama your father your mama is here with dog ****ing are

You stay classy, email hacker.

The moral of the story is to make your password about three years long, very hard to guess, and keep your sensitive information out of your email. Also, keep in mind that if your gmail account is compromised, there is very little support to get it back. There’s nobody you can call, and your communication with Google is also sent to the compromised account. The hacker will change your security question and secondary email. I’m just lucky Kurt has computer smarts, or else y’all would probably still be getting emails in which “I” blithely ask for $1500 loans.

So that’s awesome…

My apologies to anybody who got spammy email from me. Sorry. = (

Where The Wild Things Are: This movie is awful. It’s just so god-awful. I’m not even sure what it was about– probably because it wasn’t about anything. It was just some kid screaming for an hour and a half. And everything in the movie was brown. Don’t watch it. Read the book. The book is actually good. This movie entered the category I call Movies I’m Still Pissed Off About. I’m still pissed off about wasting my time on this movie, along with Valentine’s Day, The Holiday, The Phantom of the Opera, and other such atrocities.

Doubt: Uh-mazing. All of those Academy Award nominations were well-deserved. Meryl Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Amy Adams were brilliant, but the real revelation of the film was Viola Davis’ performance. I don’t know what else to say about it other than that if you haven’t seen it, you must.

Sherlock Holmes: Mixed reviews kept me from seeing this one in the theatre, but now I wish I had. It was a charming, witty romp of a film. Robert Downey, Jr. made for a fantastic Sherlock Holmes. He and Jude Law make an adorable couple… I mean, team.

This was my first Guy Ritchie film, and I enjoyed his stylistic flourishes very much. I also thought that the feel of the original Arthur Conan Doyle stories, which I devoured as a kid, ran through the film. Also: Jude Law is remarkably goodlooking, even (especially?) with a porn star moustache.

You know what I don’t do on Sunday?  Shower.

I found this picture today. The beauty on the left is my great-great-great grandmother Elizabeth Ann. She wears the same charming expression in every picture of her ever taken. Ever.

But more exciting to me than finding a picture of my 3rd great grandmother and her sisters was discovering that my 3rd great aunt was known as Aunt Tranny. I am totally naming my firstborn after her.