Birthday Week!

My birthday is this week! :) Hey, if my sister gets the milk the ENTIRE month of August as her birthday month, then I certainly can celebrate the week of. Fair’s fair {and my parents’ voices chime together in my head “Life is not fair!”}. Anywho. Moving right along.

So I was thinking about past birthdays, and I had a deep and startling revelation. My parents gave me a purity ring on my 14th birthday, so this birthday will make this ring TEN YEARS OLD. Wow. Excuse me, I need to go shave the long white beard that has sprung from my freaking old face.

Anyway, that was my revelation. I’m getting old. And by old, I mean…perhaps too old to…actually, I can’t think of anything I’m too old to do. Except stay up all night, and even then there are exceptions. Guess I’m not that old. Beard, you can go back to the place from whence you came.

In other news, Davi wrote a post about getting back into loving reading and her favorite characters and fictional couples, etc. While I don’t think I’ve ever stopped reading or loving it {this is the pre-children Bek speaking; things might be different in a few years}, her post definitely made me think about my favorite literary couples. Click on Davi’s name to see her list, and keep reading to see mine :) clever, I know.

1. Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe.
2. Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy
3. Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth
4. Katniss and Peeta
5. ??? help! I can’t think of 5! but I did think of…

Fictional couples who were wrong for each other! I’ve only got two, and you may disagree {in fact, I’m sure that some of you hardcore lit fans out there will be shocked and offended} but here goes, a short list of couples who should have chosen differently.

1. Jo March + Teddy Laurence were meant to be together, but no. Alcott had to bring in an old professor and a younger sister. Bleh. I’ve been bitter about this one since like 7th grade.
2. Lucy Manette, Charles Darnay, and Sydney Carton…the saddest love triangle ever. Sydney was SO the better man, even with his roughness. Charles didn’t DO anything; Sydney was passionate and had depth. But it’s Lucy’s own fault for choosing the lame guy and then benefiting from Sydney’s great sacrifice. Augh. Kills me.

Alright, that’s all I thought of. What are your literary faves?