The Importance of Being Idle

Fake Can Be Just As Good

Today is the first day since I started this 'blog that I really don't feel like writing anything. I couldn't even begin to tell you why I feel like that, its not like today was super-depressing or anything, I'm just struggling to find anything to write about.
So I'll start with the facts.
It was a lovely sunny shiney day today, apart from the five minutes it took me to walk to the grocery store this morning, when it rained like rain was going out of style. Unsurprisinly I got very wet. I bought some food-stuffs, resisted the urge to buy anything else at all, came home again. Not really sure what happened to the afternoon... Oh yeah, I was cleaning, that was it. It's not like proper cleaning, its just cos my brother is comin to stay for a couple days before his trip, and my parents are bringing him down so I don't want the place to look like too much of a tip. I did boy-cleaning though (y'know, when you just dust round things, rather than when you actually pick things up and dust underneath them - that's girl-cleaning), but I don't actually think I'm gonna be examined on my cleaning technique, so it'll be okay. I am gonna have to hide some of my acquisitions though, cos my parents don't seem to like the idea of me having too much fun (for some reason, Stuart just does and gets away with it, I get lectures - possibly because I actually sit there and listen to them, whereas Stu just tells them to get fucked, he'll do whatever he likes, so I get DOUBLE parenting...).
Then I watched National Treasure, which is exactly as big, dumb and exciting as you'd imagine, whilst actually managing to make nerds cool (or at least action packed history nerds, I think math nerds are still pretty much the apotheosis of uncoolness).
Then it was now.
My car got sold for scrap today to a travelling band of scrap merchants (possibly one of the weirdest things ever) who paid the princely sum of £15 for it. I was vaguely aggrieved, there was after all more than £15 worth of petrol in it, but at the end of the day I was actually expecting to pay them to take it away, so I guess I came out ahead. Aside from the whole not-having-a-car thing, anyway.
I had a weird dream last night, or at least a weird fragment of a dream. It was one of those weird ones where you think you're awake, but you're not. All I remember was that I could hear noises in my house, like somebody moving around, and I went into the kitchen and got my biggest knife, only to find out that it was my Dad who was in the living room. I don't know if that means anything (its not like I stabbed him or anything), but it was weird. It also reminded me of a dream I had when I was very young...
Okay, I'd just seen The Beatles' Yellow Submarine, and that night I had this weird psychedelic dream about the blue meanies (and dinosaurs for some reason), taking over Burton. I was the only survivor, they'd killed everyone, including my whole family, and they were in my house looking for me. But for some reason they couldn't open the doors, they could only go into rooms that were open and they had a whole host of ways to try and trick you and deceive you into opening the door. I could hear them outside my room, hear them trying to trick me into coming out. I dunno, it doesn't sound that scary now, but when I was five or six, however old I was, it was terrifying. Of course when I woke up I wasn't sure if it was true or not, and I could hear my Mum cleaning the bathroom (which is probably what had actually seeded the dream in the first place), and I was waaaaaaaay too scared to get up. I think I musta stayed shut in my room all morning, with furtive peeps out of my curtains, trying to see if the dinosaurs were out there. When I eventually decided they weren't (cos none of the trees or buildings had been eaten like they had in my dream), I screwed up my courage and opened my bedroom door.... Unsurprisingly, blue meanies hadn't taken over the world. I used to have very powerful, repetitive and disturbing dreams when I was young. I don't know if thats normal or not, I've never told anybody about my Beatles trauma before... Look, just trust me, it was scary!
Look, I did find things to talk about after all! Yay me!

posted by BadMonkey @ 9:28 PM