Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Flowers In The Traffic

Well, today will go down in history, at least my personal history, as the first time a guy (or in this case, guys) ever gave me flowers!

I know that must come as a shock, dear reader, but it's true; so pick yourself up off the floor. I realise that you must be expecting that a girl as funny, and charming, and intelligent, and attractive, and caring, and selfless, and MODEST (and, let's face it, as bourgeois) as me must be getting flowers every other day. Well, it's not so! I am the girl that the boys buys graphic novels* for, not roses and chocolates and oversized teddy bears that they win at coconut-shies when the carnival is in town. (I actually like graphic novels, but when three separate guys buy them for you INDEPENDENTLY of each other, you have to wonder what impression you must be giving off...)

Anyway, back to my story. As I was walking home this evening a car pulled up in front of me as I was crossing the road and a bunch of young men with rolled down windows started talking to me. At first I just kept walking and ignored them because, frankly, this happens a lot. Some guys seem to think that it's a winning tactic to loudly inform girls that they are fine examples of the fair sex, from the safety of moving vehicles. Some of them are obviously just chicken shit and can't deal with rejection, but I think that some of them actually believe that a girl might get into their car for some goooood lovin'. (If you are one of these guys, can I just tell you now that it will never happen. Get a life.) For the record, when I say that this happens to me a lot, I'm not being up myself. It actually has got a lot more to do with where I live than my actual level of "hotness". In case you didn't know, if you live in Brunswick, walk around in the streets enough, and have a vagina, you are likely to be accosted in this manner with alarming frequency whether you look like Scarlett Johansson or the Elephant Man (well, the Elephant woMan, at any rate).

So, I ignored these guys until I realised that they were holding out pink carnations (incidentally, these were my favourite flower when I was 5 years old) from the car window. I grabbed a couple, thanked them, and pretended not to notice that they were yelling after me;
"Give us your number!!!"
I mean, that kind of ruins the sweetness and romance of the encounter, don’t you think?

So, yeah, there's another stupid and confused vignette from my charmed, middle-class existence. The moral of the story is... Umm... Sometimes former tomboys who have turned into cynical, overly-critical, and scathing women get flowers... But only from people who don't know them and want a blow job.

* - long comics that are bound like proper books.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Better The Loco-Motion You Know?

Rain falling down
Another minute passes by
I wait for you
But this time I won't cry
Where are you now?
Are you with another love?
It's not the first time
You stood me up and let me down

I was listening to my ‘Fun Good Times’ playlist on my mp3 player last night at Anstey station while I was waiting to get into the city, and this song (‘Je Ne Sais Pas Pourquoi’ by Kylie Minogue) began playing. As I strained my eyes in the darkness to see if a train was finally coming, I realised that this tune is practically the anthem of the Upfield line. It treats me so badly: the trains are so often late when I need them, sometimes they never show up at all, they keep me waiting in the rain and cold, they never call to say when they've been held up; but I put up with it all. I don’t need to take the shit the Upfield line deals out to me; there are three different trams I could catch to the city instead, but I still go back for more… WHY??? I guess Kylie found herself in a similar predicament, but with a person instead of a train (or, at least, Stock, Aitken and Waterman did). The horribly conflicting emotions one experiences at the hands of a heartless lover (or, indeed, train) are summarised so perfectly and with such poignancy in the chorus:

I, I, I'm wondering why
I still love you
Je ne sais pas pourquoi
I still want you
Je ne sais pas pourquoi

Basically, both Kylie and I are at a loss as to why we let ourselves be treated this way... And putting it in French just makes it all the more affecting. It’s pretty powerful stuff. I’m not ashamed to say that a tear slid down my cheek as I sighed and checked my watch for the hundredth time.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Blogger User Profile: The fashionable chick

Blogger username: platinum_card_princess
Name of her blog: 2 Hott 4 U
Typical excerpt from her blog:
today i ate:
9am=1 bowl special k with skinny milk
1pm=1 low fat boost juice

7pm=1 garden salad (no dressing!)
yay the diet is going sooooo well! i will be super sexy is no time! then i just kno jordan will like me again. all i need is refills on my acrylic nails, some hair extensions (i could fucking kill my hairdresser for what she did to my beautiful hair!), and to boost my tan (winter made me pasty as!). i saw jordan at 'motel' last nite with his new gf. she looks like the biggest skanky bitch. she probably goes to a public school or something. i am so totally heartbroken without him. oh! and the worst thing happened at 'boutique' on friday... i go soooo drunk that i lost my new kate spade clutch!!! (i wish i'd lost my stupid louis vuitton tote coz thats soooo last season and everyone has those cheap tacky rip off ones.) anywayz its all coz some ugly guy thought that if he bought me drinks i would talk to him (so wrong!). anywayz he got me like about 1000 appletinis but i still ignored him! ha! plus jordan saw it and it hopefully made him jealous. oh, i miss that clutch. maybe if i cry about it enough dad will finally buy me that matching tiffany heart charm bracelet and necklace i want. laterz.
Likes: Havaiana thongs ("i have like about 15 different colours!"), clothes and accessories where the designer's name is really ostentatiously positioned, skinny-leg jeans that are so tight they cut off her circulation, guys buying her things, kissing her girlfriends for the camera so she can get in the club pages of a cool magazine, parading down the street like she's on the catwalk, guys telling her she's beautiful, guys telling her she's sexy, girls being jealous of her, when pink is the new black, shopping (especially with other people's money), lip gloss.
Dislikes: leaving the house without lip gloss, her latest haircut, having to do any kind of work, subtitles in films, guys who don't buy jewelry for 1 month anniversaries, guys who get mad when they get dumped for cuter/richer guys, shop assistants who don't fawn enough, when she gets bloated, bad hair days, when orange is the new black, guys who drive convertibles--the wind messes up her hair, being away from her mobile phone, her small breasts ("i'm trying to convince dad to get me a boob job for xmas!").
Favourite bands: Ashanti, Black Eyed Peas, Destiny's Child, OutKast, Gwen Stefani, Usher, Ashlee/Jessica Simpson, P!nk, Beyonce, Madonna ("i hope i'm as hott as her when i'm an old lady").
Favourite movies: anything with Brad Pitt, 'Legally Blonde', 'Mean Girls' ("except the end when lindsay starts to dress fugly again and stops wearing lipgloss! ew!"). But generally she prefers television to movies, and always watches 'The O.C.', 'The Gilmore Girls', and 'The Bold And The Beautiful'.

Hobbies: skipping meals, preening, attention seeking, twirling hair around her finger, fishing for compliments, getting guys to buy things for her, convincing friends to wear unflattering outfits so she can look better by comparison, accessorising, asking if her bum looks big in her jeans, making her boyfriends wear clothes she chooses for them, going out as much as possible so she can convince people that she is happy and popular.
Secret shames: she once accidentally read some of the novel 'Myron' because she got Gore Vidal and Vidal Sassoon confused, she was never a natural blonde, in year 7 she hung out with the punks and goths at Flinders Street Station, she once left the house without any make-up, she has never been approached by model talent scouts, she had a nose job before she transferred to MLC in year 9, she actually thinks skinny-leg jeans are hideously '80s looking but has suppressed this thought, she once let a boyfriend send pictures he took of her in her underwear to FHM so he wouldn't break up with her.
Greatest fear: "What if I'm not skinny enough for skinny-leg jeans?"
Find her at: Chapel Street, Chadstone Shopping Centre, Starbucks (for a skinny mocha latte), Borders (to get the air freight copies of various international publications of 'Elle' Magazine).
Bookmarks: "um, i have like waaaaay too much of a life to spend all my time online like a friendless loser!"
People she wants to kill: whoever decided high-waisted pants and skirts should come back into fashion (although she will soon suppress this thought, too), girls who are prettier/better dressed than her, girls who turn up at an event in the same clothes as her, her hairdresser for giving her such an ugly haircut.
Future careers: editor of 'Cosmopolitan', one of those women who pretends to be her daughter's sister, fashion buyer, personal shopper with celebrity clients ("like how hott would that be?!"), something in marketing or PR, trophy wife who lies on the couch all day eating bon-bons and watching her "stories", mutton dressed as lamb.
Life motto: "Being sexy means never having to say you're sorry."

Alex says: I have a lot of thank-yous. Firstly, Svet, thank you for being a total gem and doing whatever I ask in the name of blogging, including humouring me, advising me, and taking photos. Thanks also to my other technical advisors Jon and Will. I will be like Lindsay at the end of 'Mean Girls' and break you off a bit of that nasty blonde wig (from the previous post) for you as a reward. (Then we'll all be partial Spring Fling Queens! Hooray!) Lastly, a word to the staff at 'The Basement' at Myer... You guys are fucking unbelievably shit at your job. Your customer service skills are non-existent, as are your manners. But I love how you guys just stand around posing and talking to each other about how great you are. This was not only great inspiration for this character, but it also meant that Svet and I were able to take armfuls of clothes into a changeroom and spend close to an hour trying them on and taking the pictures for this post, without you guys saying anything to us or interfering. GOOD ONE, fuckers.

Too darn HOTT.