Shopping and Belonging

This afternoon, I got some jeans.

They are incredibly run of the mill, but anything would be an improvement upon my current pair which are so faded they're almost white, and so shredded at the cuffs that I either have to fold them up or wear them with boots. And the only boots I own are gumboots.

Whilst I was at Target getting the aforemantioned jeans (I know. I'm classy.), I saw one of those floofy peasant shirt thingies. I thought to myself 'Hmmm. I wonder what I'd look like in one of those.'

Here's the answer: a mushroom. As it turns out, quasi-Sinti Eastern European gypsy is not a look I can rock. I can however totally rock the look of Eastern European downtrodden farmer or tailor. I guess it's genetic.

And although I've been bagging out my old jeans, I'm still going to wear them to every winter mufti day...along with my Target gumboots.

And the belonging.

I have a bit of a quandary when it comes to finding self selected texts for belonging.

Initially, I was going to use The Shipping News (Annie Proulx), but that turns out to be an Ext Eng proscribed text, which means I can't use it.

I could use the movie, but it's just so bloody depressing.

Even so, I have too many self seleceted texts to choose from. There's The Shipping News (movie), Kolya (Czech movie about the Velvet Revolt), Forrest Gump (Winston Groom), or The Savage Altar (Asa Larson).

I should have two. I hate having to choose. They're all really good.

Oh well.

Incoherent Indies

I was watching Rage on ABC on Saturday morning, and I was reminded of one of my pet hates: incoherent apathetic indie bands with stupid names.

They mumble, they ‘sing’ in irritating breathy voices that demonstrate quite obviously that they have absolutely no diaphragm support whatsoever, and they have stupid band names.

What kind of an idiotic name is ‘Fire! Santa Rosa. Fire!’? seriously.

And what about ‘Fauns’.

It’s only a matter of time before they just start taking names out of science textbooks: I will in no way be surprised when there’s a band called ‘the Electrolytic Cells’ or perhaps ‘Xloem vessels’. And let’s not rule out ‘the Tickertapes’; ‘the Hubble Telescopes’; ‘the Stephen Hawkings’… I could go on.

And it’s as if they can’t even get enthusiastic about their own music. They just stand there, playing their instruments in an expressionless manner. They seem to think they’re too cool for their music, but they’ll deign to play it anyway, and we just have to deal with their boredom.

On a slightly unrelated note, scuttlebutt is that Metallica is coming to Australia in August. Tiff (the one who introduced me to the joys of Metallica) and I are really cut that it’s in the middle of trials.

Damn and blast.

An Addendum

Oh and by the way.

I got my HSC timetable today. The BOS can S my D.

Quite literally, and failing that at least figuratively.

Life

I hate being sixteen.

Seriously. Not only am I a good chunk younger than the vast majority of my year group, pretty soon I'll be making decisions which will more or less shape the course of he rest of my life.

I spend my spare time playing Lacrosse and watching Sesame Street. I'm not ready to go into the real world.

School is like my security blanket. I've been attending St George for a good 37% of my life. IT'S FAMILIAR. I know what I'm going to be doing each day, and I know to an extent what to expect of each day.

Whenever I put concerted effort onto thinking about what I want to do with the rest of my life, I get nowhere. I change my mind with reasonable regularity. At the moment, I feel like studying Mechanical Engineering. Who knows how long this phase'll last?

The only way I can describe my mind when it comes to thinking about the future is a snafu.

I'm feeling rather snafulated at the moment.

Grr.