today i was an absolute glutton for self-indulgent behaviour.
the concept of sleeping in is as familiar to me as a mirror to amy winehouse. my days often start at six, seven, & even sundays i wake up at seven thirty to catch an eight thirty body pump class at fatness first. I WOKE UP AT TEN THIS MORNING...& while it may not be that momentous for anyone else but me, those extra three hours of r.e.m. & its cyclical ways were sweet sweet occasions of triumph, like the first time riding a bike! like telling your dad to 'take one for the team' after he talks about the life insurance windfall to come in case anything happens to him!
my justification: yesterday i rose at five forty in the morning because i had a six thirty (til three!!) shift, & only stumbled home past one thirty from the nouvelle vague gig... which, incidentally was phenomenalamazingmindblowinglylifealtering.
just in case my sporadic fusion of adverbs & adjectives did not aptly convey my sentiment, it was, uh, good.
i have a terrible case of lust for one of the two nouvelle vague chanteuse's - nadeah miranda - her voice, poise, amazing genetics, & unparalleled caliber of sex appeal was enough to fill the room with standing ovations... in the pants. (ohohoh see what i did there?!)
picture of nadeah miranda clearly not taken by these shaking hands & clearly not used with permission from sendell on flickr (thank you, whoever you are):
anyway, back to my self-indulgent ways... my fiesta of siesta was matched by my shopping. i purchased assorted christmas-related objects, a dress, four pairs of shoes, self-tanning shiz (because i want to be orange!) & some goodbye cellulite that damn-better-well be potent like kevin federline's nasty bizness!
financial crisis, i bite my teenage thumb at you!
& just because i feel like it, i will disclose the youtube comments that really get my blood boiling. surprisingly, it's not the "your* ugly / fat / stupid / lame / boring, you stupidasian / bitch / whore / slagtitpoopmothertruckingcrackwhale" comments. (* means that grammatical prowess has been retained for accuracy).
rather it's the ones that read, "you have too much time on your hands, get a life," mainly because it's quite le contraire. i really don't have too much time on my hands. in fact, without making videos, i already struggle to keep up with work shifts, academic responsibilities, household duties & minimal social interaction. when i make videos, i do so at the cost of something else. i extract myself from social situations or i edit away during hours that should be spent sleeping because when it comes to art & some kind of creative expression, i will & i do rearrange my priorities around it.
in recent times, i've come to acknowledge that my life is art. my life is creating. not much gives me the same kind of satisfaction & fulfillment from a finished product, irregardless of its quality. sorry that my definition of 'life' does not conform to your closed-minded perceptions of it being a weekly occurrence of empty beer bottles, a thousand pictures with my pouting hot friends at hip locations like a club bathroom or on youporn.com's premium collection, smoking at a parking lot all heavy-eyelinered & setting ducks on fire, & shoplifting chocolates at kmart.
so sincerely sorry that my lifestyle may actually contribute to a small iota of worth when i grow up. shove it up your filthy asses & get burning hemorrhoids in the process, mother truckers!
...i'm so disillusioned with relative exposure, can you tell? i don't understand how you youtube elite put up with it. goodnight.