*Dreamz*

{this is an old post i never finished !}

So i've been cutting triangles out of black shiny fabric for about ten years now. (i will explain later)
but since I begun this creepy production line of (post *weep*) teen angst I have done two things,


1- read a list by a mother of young children about all the things she used to be able to do before evil foeti (plural of foetuses?) bullies their way into and out of her womb,
things like: eating food that is warm because you didn't have to cut up and blow on everyone else's dinner, then argue with them about why they had to eat it, before you could get a bite of yours,
things like: going to the toilet alone without 6 tiny hands beating at the door trying to get in and harass and plague you.
and I realised that not only has this piece confirmed all my suspicions about the rest of Life As We Know It, it has made me see that it is WORSE! worse than I ever dreamed of.
and I dream dark. 
once I dreamed that a friend of mine was trying to talk me round into having a threesome with his wife and (80s) Ronald Ray-Gun.
And I was in fact persuaded. I was seduced by the reek of presidential powerfulness. The flap of the stars and stripes, the smell of the seats on Airforce One... the roundness of the seal on the floor in the oval office.
Like a giant boob.

Anyway. 

2- After I read this grim inventory of sadness and terror I put on Young Adult, 

"an American dark comedy film directed by Jason Reitman"
In which a 'psychotic promqueen' young adult fiction writer returns to her home town to try to rekindle a romance with her high school ex, who is now happily married with a baby.

The protagonist is played by Charlize Theron, and so far all we've seen her do is get wasted, sleep in her clothes, wake up and chug diet coke, and plot to ruin people's lives.
She's moved from her hick-town to the big city and lives what I presume we're supposed to think is some traj existence of loneliness where she lives by herself with a tiny dog, watches the Kardashians and Kendra 24/7 and stays in hotels alone.

But what it really got me thinking was: 
(I'm not going to have kids. this much is a given. my mum actually already explained that she 'wouldn't wish it on anyone' so-)  
I best think up some fun shit to do in the meantime!
like ruin peoples' lives, steal from hotels etc... while all my supposed friends are busy crashing round their semi with kids hanging from each nipple, treading on lego bricks and trying to work out where they left their brain and youth.

Things I can do with the money and selfishness that I shall not allow anyone to steal from me!

1- Stay in hotels alone, reject room service in favour of sneaking in outside food from takeaways and fast food places. Eat it in bed and get grease on the sheets.


2- Go shopping drunk
Because in what situations is going shopping drunk not a good thing? No situations, that's which. Merits of drunk-shopping include, everything you try on looks incredz to your kindly beer-goggled eyes, living solely on drunk-snacks for the entire day, waking up and finding a bunch of surprise presents to yourself that you forgot you ever bought. happy hangover / Christmas!


3- Have breakfast bevvies.
Especially on Christmas, but especially also really on any day that you might feel like it'd be nice!

4- Buy expensive coffee. Buy an expensive cafetiere. Never work out how to use either, or the two in conjunction. Drink lots of instant coffee out of big, big mugs.


5- Have enough time in my 'life' that it seems entirely reasonable to spend whole evenings reading feminist blogs on tumblr, pointlessly following the seeds of twitter conversations to stalk totally non-famous band-members and actors I am obsessed with and writing snidey remarks about how much I hate One Direction / Cheryl Cole / whoever else is infecting my eyes and ears with their media presence that week.


Incidentally... I'm trying to work out, is it more embarrassing and traj to actually be One Direction: aka sham musicians, followed everywhere by girls in that unfortunate phase of life where everything is too big / too small / your teeth are trying to envelope your entire head and must be tamed into submission with intricate scaffoldings / (I've been there. and it's a dark, dark place)......

or to be the 'band' of 'real musicians' forced to stand behind them, with eyes dutifully averted, watching a bunch of adolescents cry at the 'cardigans' and 'hairdos' poncing about in front of you like the absolute sham that they are?
I honestly can't imagine that you would not feel immediately compelled to stab out your own eyes with plectrums...
but I guess it takes all sorts in the crazy 'music biz'
- ok, bunny ears fingers are getting tired now..... moving on,


6- Do a Stephen Fry:
Mark Corrigan: No, I'm not getting married.
Jeremy Usborne: You're overruling the coin?
Mark Corrigan: Well, the coin isn't actually the boss of me, Jeremy. And how I felt when it told me to marry makes me think I definetely shouldn't. So, text everyone, text everyone to tell them that.
Jeremy Usborne: A text?
Mark Corrigan: Yeah. Tell them... tell them I'm doing a Stephen Fry, we're in Brussels, I'm eating chips and mayonnaise, I'm on the edge. You found a blanket under the garage door and I'm wearing an overcoat and that no one should approach me, and I'll be back in a couple of weeks and everything's fine, maybe we'll have a wedding in a couple of weeks but I'm on the edge, stress that, everyone needs to be kind to me. Text that.
Jeremy Usborne: You want me to send all that, to everyone?
Mark Corrigan: I'll cover the cost.


aka: flee my emotions and problems instead of facing up to them! Smother my problems in mayonnaise and chips in Europe! Drown my emotions in a sea of wheat beer and reassure myself right up until getting back on the plane that everything will be fine and we'll start a new life here, with a husband called Jan or Franz and a renault with the steering wheel on the wrong side. Return to life refreshed and with new perspective plus protective sheath of mayonnaise induced cellulite. 


7- Become a spy