Friday, November 28, 2003

Woohoo! Pinocchio's on Disney tonight! Woohoo! I'm excited.

This may seem a little bit random, but I assure you it isn't. This is coming from a person that actually joined Choices so that he could rent out Peter Pan week, in time with all that Michael Jackson controversy, and ordered The Emperor's New Groove, Sleeping Beauty, Mary Poppins and Robin Hood. I only watched PP, because I felt I had to within the 7 days I was allowed it. Those that I bought I will probably turn to in about 50 years time (I haven't watched Ghost World since it's release on DVD, even though I bought it immediately - I've never seen it either: shoot me! POW).

Not only that... but I've probably bought more out of the most recent issue of THE FACE, than I have from any previous issues. Yesterday, I bought two 'vintage T-shirts' - though it took a while for me to decide what exactly constituted a vintage t-shirt. I was distracted by some Batman t-shirts in Burton, but settled for an 'Everlast' t-shirt which resembles the kind of thing that grown-up graduates where to bed [if not, then the kind of garment that is made to seem to be put to this use by the media - if not, then this is a total figment of my imagination, but what a good figment of imagination that is... possibly]. I also bought myself a 'leather armlet' from H&M. That took some time. Why could they not just have one? I understand that there has to be some variation in the world, but I got confused over whether to go ornate, or have a sip, or an armlet that was split into two strips... etc. etc. I settled for one that looks kind of like a mini-belt. It looks kind of weird, because I don't usually wear accessories for the wrist [except for my watch] - I don't usually wear accessories [except for my glasses, and my newly bought hat, scarf and gloves - which I'm still getting used to].

I also ordered the most recent albums by Blondie and The Black Eyed Peas, and the album by that Sinead O'Connor wannabe Alex Parks, and bought The Bourne Supremacy. But now, I feel somewhat like the narrator character in Fight Club. That's the film, not the book - which I haven't read, and therefore made the distinction, because I have no idea how faithful an adaptation the movie is of the novel. Am I buying all these things to create an aesthetic that essentially isn't myself? I don't really like the leather armlet, because I don't feel like it's 'me', but I've been wearing it anyway - though, in public, it has been hidden under my roll-neck sweater so far... The t-shirts are not so different from what I would usually wear, and as for the CDs and books - if I like them or not, I will have to decide. Seeing as now my media exploration now seems to rely upon the Amazon Recommendations system - I have no idea why... it's recommended Two Weeks Notice because I liked Catch Me If You Can, Chicago AND Phone Booth. As far as I can remember, the latter three are not 'romantic comedies', but oh well, it saves me having to make decisions for myself. So, maybe that's the point. Maybe it's easier for me to buy a magazine or use a website to dictate what I should do with my spare time, rather than spend the time to consider what I should do for my myself. Guidance? Maybe. But I feel guilty. Or is that my inner self screaming for an individuality that will in the end be unobtainable unless you yield under the pressure of consumerism and let whatever qualities that remain solely to you seep out whenever possible.

I also need to learn to paragraph properly in my blog, I think. Sentence structure needs to be worked on too. But then, lazy is as lazy does... or is that vice versa?

However, this is the time that I must pull myself out of my chair, and get ready for my bus, which leaves in about 40 minutes. I'm going to catch the 'cat' and then hang around somewhere, drinking coffee, possibly smoking, possibly reading [see below] while I wait for my chauffeur Julia [otherwise known as 'Mother', 'Mum', and sometimes, 'Evil Bitch']. Some chaffeur she is - I actually have to walk down the pier, up that big hill in Ryde, and meet her outside the school of my step-brother. The term 'cruel' cannot convey the meaning. Though, she is picking me up, so I should cut her some slack. At least, I don't have to spend nigh-on a fiver to catch a bus that takes me only about ten miles [my ability to judge distance is rather poor - my apologies if that is pigfuckingly inaccurate, it would not surprise me].


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