"No one's perfect, not even me."

7/12/09

Well, like a slutty friend with Chlamydia, my insomnia is back. On the bright side I get to find cool shit like this on the web. The artist is Jason Mecier, and yes, that is Jerry Seinfield’s head made out of Cap’n Crunch, Crunch Berries, Cheerio’s, Froot Loops, Alpha Bits, Count Chocula, and Frosted Mini Wheats, among other cereals. Apparently he’s quite famous, and his work gets featured in magazines. I don’t know why, but this gives me some sort of blind hope for the future.

Got back from Camden, and I feel like that place would have been my Junior High happy place. Oh back in the day when I would pair my pearls and Abercrombie with whatever filth I had happened to pick up at Hot Topic. I’m assuming I thought I was edgy at the time, but now I just want to hug my former self for and tell her it’s going to be all right. In another year they will build a fucking huge GAP five minutes away from your house and you will become outdoor mall trash. (A step above regular mall trash, because you are spared the pain of hanging out in Panda Express) However, the majority of it seems to be a tourist trap, selling the same overpriced band shirts in every store. Maybe I’m just bitter. Maybe I just miss J Crew. Please stop sending me final sale emails, I’m not completely devoid of human emotion.

7/13/09

Today was quite interesting. Woke up, gave the friendly maids my trash, nutella’ed my crumpet and briskly walked to class. I then had the great privilege to learn about the British health care and education system. We also watched part of Michael Moore’s film on universal health care, Sicko. I know Moore is incredibly biased, and his films are always meant to scare you into thinking that the Government is an evil entity ready to put our souls on the McDonald’s dollar menu, but they always ring of some truth. After realizing I probably wasn’t going to get health care with whatever part time shit design job I will be lucky to acquire after college, I calmed down with some “reduced to sell” chicken strips from Tesco and the finest garlic bread that one can buy in bulk. Had a lovely chat with mother who was somehow convinced I was wandering around Kensington Gardens at night doing homework, and sat around with my flat mates who were dropping where they stood from a weekend without sleep in Barcelona.
The real kicker was calling the lovely Bank of America and discovering my temporary card had expired, when they had failed to issue me a new one. No one will help me, not even their fucking “international alliance” because I’m American. G-d bless capitalism and all its hookers that work in the brothels of finance. I then wrote a paper about Nazi propaganda, because I'm an idiot and of course it was going to put me in a better mood. I realized what this world has come to when I tried to youtube the 1940 film “The Eternal Jew” and all I found were play lists of segments from the original movie, without captions, all set to Pink Floyd music.

I should really stop bitching, my life is not difficult. Paris in three days succkkkaaa.

* On a side note, this blog is named after one of the papers I wrote for my WIT class. And the answer is yes, I am going to hell.