Tag Archives: mindless self indulgence

I Read A Book and Now I’m Mad!

17 Apr

Yesterday I randomly pulled a book from my shelf and began to read it. Well, re-read it. The book in question (which I will not name because it’s sort of embarrassingly bad) was one that I adored in high school. You know the books that you read several times in a row and carry with you for months because they resonate with you so much? When I was 16, this was one of those books for me.

Please take into account that when I was 16, I was also goth. I did not make the best choices at 16. Anyway…

So I selected this book and delved into it and spent the better part of my day reading. By the time I was, oh, about a third of the way through, I realized something: this book is responsible for having shaped approximately 73% of my adult personality.

I’m not quite sure how I feel about that.

Yesterday, it made me really mad… mad about what, I couldn’t say. All I knew is that I was pissed off and crawling out of my skin, so I went for a drive, and I bought shoes, and I sort of flirted with the too-young-for-me-anyways-and-either-way-I’m-married salesguy, and he sort of flirted back, and for a moment I was like “…still got it!” but then I went right back to being mad about nothing again. And I drove and I felt boxed in by the very city I live in and have always lived in… like I wouldn’t allow myself to drive beyond certain roads or highway exits, lest I get lost or end up somewhere too far away in a fit of complete insanity.

Adult life is so strange because you have things like credit cards and a car and you honestly could just abandon it all and take off at a moment’s notice to start over somewhere new, if that’s what you really wanted. When I was in high school, I found out that this kid I went to elementary school with, his mom had met some guy online and she had taken off to Texas to go be with him. Just up and abandoned her family. I would never, never do that (I think it’s monstrous), but it’s strange to think about how easy that was for her to do, and how anybody with a way to get around and a means of paying for it all can just… go. (Incidentally, when I say easy, I don’t mean emotionally… I mean just physically moving from place to place, anywhere in the world you want to go. Difficult as a child, incredibly simple as an adult. I could fly to Azerbaijan tomorrow if I wanted to.)

I’m not sure what any of this means, really… if I should quit my job or go back to school or go back to playing guitar or travel or go on mood stabilizers or just never, never read that book ever again. In any case, it’s interesting to think about. So many people, myself included, complain about feeling stuck or trapped or tethered, but it’s actually very easy to just cut loose and go try to make a name for yourself somewhere else, in some other circumstance. So what is it that we feel tethered by, exactly, and how do we go about breaking away from that? If we even should?

Questions, questions…

You’d really laugh at me if you knew what book it was that had me in this state of mind, just by the way.


Feels Like Thirty Four.

18 Aug

I don’t really understand weathermen telling me it “feels like” thirty four degrees. I’m a layman, here. If it feels like thirty four, then as far as I’m concerned, it’s thirty four.

Either way, thirty four degrees, twenty two, what have you… it’s effin’ hot!

Today was a nice day. For some reason I was just filled to the brim with general goodwill toward my fellow man. This rarely happens. It was my Thursday today, and the work day flew by, which is always nice. I bought new jeans from the Gap. Patrick Robinson is doing really good things for that store. I also went grocery shopping and got a cucumber so I can chuck hunks of it in water, thus rendering it (the water) far more palatable to me. After getting home, I discovered that Air Miles already sent me my Chapters gift certificate that I ordered, so Steve and I walked down to the bookstore and I purchased a giant Moleskine notebook. Giant. It’s the size of a trapper keeper. I love it. I might have to name it.

Can I just talk for a moment about how much I love Moleskine notebooks? They have me so branded, it’s not even funny. An artist friend (ex-friend? She seems to be avoiding me lately…) turned me on to them when I visited her in Houston a few years back. They have thick, amazing pages, and good solid covers, and little ribbon bookmarks and a pocket in the back. The pocket comes stuffed with a little leaflet that tells the history of the Moleskine. Apparently they were the notebooks of choice for both Hemingway and Picasso. They’re also bloody expensive; my new extra-large book set me back 36 dollars after tax… or would have, had my Air Miles not paid for it. There are less expensive knock-offs available on the market that I’m sure are practically identical, but I just can’t bring myself to buy them. See? Branded. It’s like I feel like the ghost of Hemingway is going to rise up and come screaming at me if I spare myself 10 bucks or so…


Then we got slushies (Steve: watermelon, Me: cream soda) and came home.

And now here we are!

Hope you had a lovely day, too.

Shopping and Sleep… Good Day Off!

15 Jul

My mom took me shopping today on her tab because I am dirt poor and she likes to spoil me, tee hee! I don’t think I abused the privilege too much… She bought me a little ruffled clutch to take with me to a wedding I’m attending in August, some lip balm from Lush, the quick-dry nail varnish stuff that I need in order to paint my nails (or else I make a messy smudgy mess of everything, ugh), and the graphic garden palette from mac which was way too expensive but she wouldn’t let me say no! My mom is sweet like that… I was admiring it and the conversation went something as follows:

“You need that.”

“It’s beautiful, huh? I even like the blue… I don’t normally like blue!”

“How long would you have to save for that?”

“Oh, it’s only half my monthly budget.” 

“I’ll buy it for you!”

“No! It’s 42 dollars!!”

(Saleslady approaches) “Can I help you with anything?”

(Mom) “We need this.” (points to palette.) 

Trust me, there is no stopping my mom when she wants to shop. 

Anyway, I’m excited to play with my new goodies! I’m a bit of a reformed Shopaholic (reformed because of necessity, you understand). You don’t need to know just how much I related to Becky Bloomwood when I read that book… so I’m very appreciative when Mom takes me out to treat me to some new stuff!

And then after shopping, I came home and lay down and fell asleep for about three hours. Oooooooops.