|
Saturday, November 27, 2004
Telescope Eyes, Metal Teeth This weekend my family and I (minus one mother) went to a Roadrunners game. It was fun...the hockey was good and I liked spending time with my family. Before the game, we stopped at the mall and I bought an Eisley ep - it's gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. Those kiddies are geniuses. I also bought a book, which was supposed to be "art" written by another kiddie genius. However, upon starting to read it, I found myself thinking, "This is art? How do people even understand it?", for this is an example of one of the many strange journal entires found in the book : "Greasy Buddy Holly proposed even more than plane crashes. I try to remember to breathe...Words are scarce, dreams are many. Blond curls in blue VW big flipping over and over, unable to drive. Can't handle control. I pray not to die. Pippi Longstocking is a bitch. So is trying to be her. So is filming a video for English class. Head sore from wire hangers. That was only Saturday." (pg.9, Please Don't Kill the Freshman, Zoe Trope.) I mean...if you really wanted to sit down and place every single sentence under a microscope, you would probably decipher this thing. But I don't want to do that...and how do I know if what I'm figuring out is acctualy right? Eww. At the mall I made a startling discovery about myself - in all honesty, I would rather spend my hard-earned money on nerd-objects like books and music rather than clothes and makeup and the like. I didn't go into a single clothing store yesterday - I made a beeline straight to Chapters and spent the majority of my mall-hours curled up in a chair, trying to figure out this Zoe Trope business. The idea of going into a clothing store bores me a little. It's not that I don't care about clothing or my appearance, because I do, but when it comes right down to it I would rather read a good book than look great in a new pair of jeans. The end. Hailey spazzed at 1:33:00 p.m. ***
Comments:
Post a Comment
|