by Jessica, enigma and recent Christian convert
Hi. Maybe you've heard of me. You probably haven't. Or maybe you think you have, but you're mistaking me for Viola because you saw Shakespeare in Love. That's not me. I'm also not the cross-dressing chick from As You Like It, or one of the girls that you played in your eighth-grade production of Midsummer Night's Dream. Okay?
Nobody really gets me, which is the whole point, I guess, since that's the way The Man wrote me. Sure, everyone knows me once I say I'm Shylock's daughter, but it's not like Ophelia has to go around saying, "Hi, you don't know me, but I'm Polonius' daughter." Whatever. Bitch.
If you really want to know why I'm grumpy, I'll tell you. Today I was driving around killing some time between my therapy appointment and my eyebrow waxing and I came across this radio station that's only playing Christmas music, "From Who-ville to Somerville." Jesus Christ. It's frigging November 16th. So, you know what? That line that no one (I mean the two scholars who actually pay attention to me) knows what to do with, when I say "I am never merry when I hear sweet music"? You can stop wondering what I'm talking about.
p.s. Lorenzo, I'm still expecting some serious jewelry for Christmas.
It always bothered me what a terribly underwritten character Jessica is-- especially considering how much dramatic potential there is for her situation.
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