Mush

After the rather tumultuous events of last week, my brain has decided to counter all that over-stimulation by only absorbing happy squishy stuff that doesn't require hard thinking. Or any type of concentration.

Don't get me wrong, I had a most excellent week- I got to achieve my dream of eating a grilled rump steak for breakfast, was almost suffocated on a dancefloor with shirtless guys slicked in foam, played with a heck of a lot of glowbands, failed an extremely important pre-requisite subject, drank an espresso martini on fake grass, had a lovely Devonshire tea at a friend's place, was woken up by a mighty rendition of My Humps (AGAIN), woke up almost screaming from a nightmare in which I was pregnant with Kevin Federline's third child (I CANNOT DESCRIBE HOW HORRENDOUS THIS WAS), watched Mulan at a video night and heard this young lady shriek with uncontrolled excitement when a two dimensional cartoon cartoon character took his shirt off, and I worked four shifts and was forcibly reminded of why I HATE SELLING IPODS.

Oh, and the morning after the foam party I was woken up by the sound of a chainsaw next door.

Anyway, my brain has decided that over-stimulation and little sleep makes Daph a very very crazy girl. So you know what I've been doing to recover?

I've been reading teenage romance novels and listening to The Love Album by Westlife.

Oh, Daphne, how low you have sunk.

It's Kris' fault, really. She recommended Twilight. You know that series which teenage girls (and as one journalist wrote, "women who should know better") are all obsessed with? It's about a teenage girl who falls in love with a vampire. It's about as badly written as you might expect and full of bizarre subliminal messages about the virtues of abstinence...but it's also very very easy to read and requires very little thinking. Furthermore, the guy the protagonist falls in love with is like the vampiric equivalent of Mr Darcy...all moody and broody yet female readers cannot help but swoon over him.

If it lessens the disgust you must be feeling, I really am only listening to the one track on the Westlife album (All Out Of Love) because their rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart made me want to scream and smash the disc into tiny pieces. And it's the property of my local library so I can't.

In an effort to dispel this mushy, swoony why can't I find unconditional love without the vampirism crap, I went and borrowed the DVD for the ULTIMATE ANTIDOTE to the lovey teenagey-ness of Twilight.

I borrowed Blade II.

I'll be back after I've watched Wesley Snipes decimate a whole lotta shit.