'kay, going to the Bearcave for the foreseeable future (until tomorrow afternoon, for sure, anyway.) so I thought I'd get my Livejournal fix 'cause I've returned like a monkey to crack in the daily recording of my so-so life.

So, Friday I went with my Oldest and Coolest Peeps to see another film, after consuming massive amounts of a pitcher of Big Wednesday cocktail (it tasted familiar and milky and just yummy...), we decided on Bobby as the ideal candidate. Ohmygosh. What a drag. Me and Dave started playing Rock, Paper, Sisscors in the middle and the only thing we learnt was that we wouldn't mind trying LSD sometime. The closest I ever got to drug-taking was trying to huff weed from a homemade bong, fashioned out of a beer can. Oh, yeah, that's classy.

I'm feeling pretty lucky right now though. Happy enough, I think, for a girl in my situation.

Edit: Soon to repost with a wishlist/picture spam post of Summer fashion things I want. Oooh, prettyshinyexciting!

I'm no good at finishing Livejournal entries. A lack of concentration might -- OHLOOKSHINY! LET'S GO DIRT-BIKING!

Anyway. I decided to just put my earlier entry in italics and the current entry...not in italics. Easy.

Urgh. Missing my Boything quite a bit, I haven't seen him for...an entire week now. I'm acting all tough about it but really, I miss his smile and his eyes and messing up his hair and being zombies together. Yeah, pukepuke with all the cuteness but y'know...it's only this way 'cause I can be all dorky and contradictory around him. A Hello Kitty loving, eye-shadow smearing, fashion-obsessed girly girl who loves zombie movies, pees outdoors when needed and knows more dirty stories than any other boy.

Hehe. He rang during this and asked if I wanted to stay over at his. Well, duh, course I do. I was really late for work and everyone had thought I'd been abducted, abused and thrown into a ditch. O_O; But the traffic was bad and...uhm. Well. Yeah. WE'RE STILL IN THE SMITTEN STAGE, PEOPLE, REAL-LIFE DOES NOT MATTER!

On Saturday I went out with my Oldest and Coolest Peeps and I got to pick the film to watch. I chose Pan's Labyrinth. Oops. I didn't realise it was subtitled (I don't mind but everyone stared at me, aghast - I really didn't know and I felt rather embarrassed. That said, the person selling tickets didn't say anything either. 'cause hip young twenty-somethings with hormones all over the place [Miss. Weeks and Mr. Young, I mean.] go to see films about magical realism during the Spanish Civil War all the time.) and I'm sure I'll endure 'El Captain' references for months now. It was very wonderfully done though. I wouldn't say it was a weighty war drama or a fluffy fantasy piece, it's smack in the middle. And much better than Hellboy. So much better.

As for today, I just got back from Chester. Didn't buy much. : / And I was the victim of daylight robbery when I found a spiral-bound sketchbook and the place extorted £4.99 from me! That's awful. I just like doodling in spiral-bound sketchbooks and Paperchase doesn't seem to sell them anymore leaving me prey to inferior yet more expensive ripoffs. Urgh. But, since I didn't spend much out, I came back home and ordered:

La Dolce Vegan!: Vegan Livin' Made Easy by Sarah Kramer
Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World: 75 Dairy-Free Recipes for Cupcakes That Rule by Isa Chandra Moskowitz
Vegan with a Vengeance: Over 150 Delicious, Cheap, Animal-free Recipes by Isa Chandra Moskowitz

I want to buy some comfy stuff from American Apparel. And I wanna buy a leotard. I'm a total embarrassment to myself. =_=;

Lately, I've been in a weird sort of social but not exactly mood. I'm hopeless with small talk and often wish there was a 'Busy' option for conversations where I could just, hmm, collect myself a little because I always feel or say to myself: I should have said that! and the whole conversation is then ruined by hindsight beyond repair which obviously means the person who was put through my efforts at communication after being spotted unawares in my local bookstore now irrevocably hates me. And that, everyone, is the fine art of snowballing. Snowballing is screwing yourself over, only you're totally 100% commited to it being the right thing and will often defend this paradoxical thinking through any means neccesary. That and I felt embarrassed about looking like a total scruffball.

Endnote: I spent a good five minutes finding a song that would accurately describe the sensation of Extreme Mental Snowballing of Neurotic Headfuckery but didn't find one. THIS IS A OVERLOOKED ISSUE THAT DEMANDS TO BE LOOKED IN THE FACE.

Genius. Like Deviantart only just plain fun.

And...in the interest of blatant self-promotion.

I haven't felt like commiting myself to Livejournal lately; things have been fairly uncertain to make for nothing but boring, questioning and endless self-doubt posting. I feel self-improvement is much harder than media makes it out to be. If only everything had a twelve step program or a mantra or a Alternative Cognitive Framework that would work each and every time. I've been trying to be more relaxed and fun 'cause eesh, I have this cute dorky boy wanting to hang out with me and it helps me think I could be a much better person, well, instantly.

However, I'm still analysising conversations we've had after he's gone to see where I could have done better but hopefully social interaction will become much more typically spontaneous yet meaningful. I wish I could slowly think things through before I say them but I guess we'd never speak at all then. Though on Friday night, we were snuggled
together, with his arm over me and he said, 'it's because you're weird, like me' and it was a little devastating, in a really good way, to hear.

In other news, we watched The Prestige on Friday night for David Bowie (me) and special magic effects (him), I was faintly motified when David Bowie decided to show how actorly he could be with an tragic sounding accent. It was also overly long though the ending was impressive and held up to all my questioning, until The Boy gently informed me: Camille, it's not real while pulling one of those cute pseudo-stupid faces he has. Bless.

BBC 2 is airing a comedy panel show, which I like, because it's smart and funny and some interesting people are on tonight.

"What's the difference between left and right?"

They discuss it for a few minutes but no real answer comes. They just move onto the next question, about another kind of difference. This annoys me so much.

I change channels.

Channel 4 is showing a middle-aged cowgirl kneeling by a 'enhanced' saddle. She says, when they make computers that can love, then humanity is in trouble!

And laughs. From the neck down, she looks about twenty-one. Shimmery aquamarine, fishnets, sequins. It should look tacky, but it looks spirited and fun instead.

Just look at her face, I thought. Then it just looked kind of sad. Erotic robotics is the future, she says. The rhyme is catchy enough to make you want to mimic it with your own mouth. Erotic robotics. Your mouth gets pulled up into a smile, or grimace, depending with each 'otic'.

Yay for pink, obnoxious light fixtures!

Boo for mass Ebaying. Really. It sucks. Half of the descriptions I've done read like I'm hyped up on heroin. Fuck. People better buy stuff off me otherwise I'm gonna be pissed. I'm not even finished yet. I need to scout for a little more stuff and then get started on listing at Amazon. Sigh.

So, today I went to see Marie-Antoinette aka The Only Film I'm Really Excited About. I thought it was great, though people would definitely benefit from knowing a little about the people and period. Jason Schwartzmann makes me want to have a history crush on Louis XVI. Made me hungry for things though - so much decadence! It really is so easy on the eyes, there is this amazing pink dress and hat outfit that made me literally gasp 'that looks so yummy!' and I think the fashion and style is abstract enough to make an considerable impact on modern fashion itself. Unfortunately, there was only about ten other people in the theatre and most of them looked like they were at the Revolution. I was curious about what they thought, considering the modern music and light-weight subject matter (particularly in the beginning). I don't feel like it's going to do too well here. But maybe that's because I live in a cultural wasteland.

I did cry a little. Sometimes because it was just so beautiful, but mostly because it was very sad without any manipulation. I'm still a little torn as to if Kirsten Dunst was the right choice, I felt like it was harder to fully believe her movement into austurity and maturity as The Mother of France but she really did shine in the first few minutes. I'm pretty sure it will be forgotten in the big stakes at the Oscars this year, with nods for costumes and the such. My favourite Coppola film? Hmm, maaaybe.

After that I bought a bright pink chandelier (told you it made me hungry for pretty things) which I need to post pictures of. It's superyummy.

*Be Delicious or Vera Wang's Princess perfume.

*Three-quarter length/long-sleeved t-shirts.

*Really thick, various colour/pattern tights.

*A really supercute jacket/snuggly coat.

*Somekind of ankle boot. A nice pair.

*A huge, smexy handbag.

*Those cute Mary-Janes at New Look.

Most of this is going to come from H&M or New Look since I went to Chester today and spent ten pounds on a necklace from Oasis! Eesh, I never normally go in there because it's so expensive but I had a gift voucher from my birthday so I had a look while my brother was in a job interview. I also bought some thick black yarn and knitting needles for Super Secret Christmas Present and photocopied a bunch of stuff in the library (embroidery/sewing patterns for a mermaid and some sweet little vintage style dolls and the chords to Wuthering Heights for some reason.) then I came home and made a list of amusing terms I've made up to describe sex.

Tripsolagnia sounds cute. I'm not sure if it's cuter than Spectrophilia. Imagine if you had that and you killed your significant other so they could be a ghost only you were Pac-Man and you had just eaten the pill that meant you could eat ghosts. I bet you'd feel so stupid.

Tiger makes me dorky. : /

That is all.