Is Diaryland deserted due to summer? No one is updating! Well, technically I've got one more day of school, one day of graduation practice, and then one day of graduation, and then it's summer. Friday was supposed to be my last day, except I have to go on Monday to see the finished product of some artwork I did... and I may as well go the rest of the day, and eat lunch in a completely deserted senior dining room. Just me and The Mayor of Casterbridge. Again.
I did realise on Friday at lunch, when my friends left me to go home early with no consideration as to what I'd be doing, that I quite enjoy just doing things by myself. I used to think I loved being with friends and socialising, but it's come to me just this year that I really hate it. I used to think I favoured any kind of change, because change in surrounding or hair or any such thing meant a change in myself... now I see it that change is a way to mask myself. I wanted to cut my hair short for this summer because with college around the corner, I thought that a physical change would help me cope with a life-change. But then I thought about my routine, about the comfort I find in continuity that I hadn't seen before, and just how much I love having long curls. It doesn't mean I'm a coward or a sentimentalist... but I don't know what else to call it. I think that if I cut my hair (or change something else about myself, for that matter), I lose something important.
And I can't help but picture myself crying in front of a mirror when I try to pull it back into a ponytail. And I can pull long hair into a bun and wear that lovely D&G scarf my mummy bought in it all summer long. It wouldn't match my new Prada purse, but, eh, what can you do? (I like throwing names around like that.)
I haven't much else to talk about. Baffling, isn't it? ... You know what I HATE? I hate the fact that eyeliner smears everywhere whenever I go into public and makes me look like a moron, but, by some miracle, it never comes off in the shower, even after a face scrub. Gaaaah! I HATE that! And I hate the direction of post-modern literature. There's no interpretation on the market nowadays, everything's entertainment! No authors dare challenge their readers because none have the intellect to. And I also hate that Vogue seemingly changed it's set-up. Unless I'm getting it mixed up with In-Style. But Vogue wasn't satisfying this month... the highlight for me was the hot car behind someone who looked like Hugh Dancy (probably was) in a Burberry ad... that was a nice car.
Those stupid "ethnic" prints are going too far this season, though. I love the ethnic, bohemian look. I'm all about the ethnic, bohemian look. However, I don't feel like walking around like a clown all summer. There's nothing worth buying in stores anymore... it's making me miserable. And verrrry superficial.
I need to say something really smart, and quick... uh... I find Ernest Hemingway's use of dialogue tiresome and pretentious. A Farewell to Arms used terrible examples of irony, and predictable characterisation that was not in the least worth my while. The entire book was comprised of sex and cheese. Blah.
Well, I got that out of my system. I'm going to go clean and try to find some place to stash all of my books. I keep buying the darned fat ones, for cryin' out loud!
Title's from Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard. Brilliant play. You really need to read it. But read Hamlet first so you get some of the alluding jokes. Hamlet is brilliant too... I love Shakespeare...