I was just getting ready to write a thoughtful intellectual post about neo-Victorian novels (which I've been thinking about writing for weeks now, ever since I wrote the post about contemporary women's literary realism, because if contemporary women's literary realism is my favorite kind of contemporary literature, the neo-Victorian novel is probably my second favorite, with memoirs and biographies a close third). Then I saw these pictures of Brad and Angelina, and I got distracted.
Apparently Brad and Angelina are in Nice, though given that the pictures show them at the Nice airport, presumably they are now leaving Nice; in fact, as I write this, they have probably left Nice. The blurb says they've been in the south of France for the last few days, which would explain Nice. Not that I've been paying attention, but in recent weeks they've been in London, Switzerland, Paris, Berlin, New York (that was just Brad, and for some reason I can't find a picture), and I would guess various other places I haven't noticed, given their peripatetic penchants.
Which I just don't get. The woman is pregnant. Doesn't she just want to lie down? Do lots of money and lots of help make it that easy to spend every night in a hotel and get in another airplane every other day? Don't the kids ever say "I want Bitty Baby," and, oh no, we left Bitty Baby in Malibu? Are they fleeing something? In which case why do they make themselves so available to the press, because you don't get this many pictures taken of you unless you want pictures taken of you?
I mean, I love to travel. I am always happiest when traveling. But I'm not even jealous of how much they are traveling. This is ridiculous. And I really hope she doesn't go into labor on a plane.
[Oh my goodness, it's the all-Brad-and-Angelina-all-the-time blog!]
[And the Angelina blog! And another! And yet another!]
[I love it when other people's obsessions make me feel like my own are positively low-key.]
Edited to add: INDIA, he took a side-trip to INDIA! I mean, I loved Rishikesh as much as the next India-loving self-questing white girl, but, like I said, this is ridiculous.
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Becca. Here I am, living my life, trying to be industrious (well, relatively speaking). And then you go and write this post and point out those websites, leaving me to conclude that you hate me and want to keep me from ever doing actual work. Why? What have I ever done to you?
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