Monday, April 05, 2004

I'm sad. You'll see why in a moment.

Because of something Brielle said (isn't it always? I'm a sheep), I got the brilliant idea of buying a big set of Legos to play with. This idea, by the way, came from a dream, which came from something Brielle said about a book. This would not be the first thing I've purchased because of a dream; quite recently, I was wearing a very cute outfit while on a farm, in a dream. I also had blonde hair and bare feet and I looked very beautiful, but little did my way-out-there parents know (this was 1900 or so; fun fun fun), I, Samus Aran, was actually a bounty hunter in deep space by night. I snuck out of my house to put on my Power Suit and await command from the alien federation. (I had, incidentally, NOT been playing too much Metroid Prime.)

(I think the name Samus Aran sounds really cool if you say it like "Samus Aaron," but that's just me.)

So! Where the hell was I? Oh, but I, teenage Samus Aran, in my civilian clothes, wore these cute suspenders and a cream-colored shirt; so when I woke up, I went out to Goodwill and bought something similar. I look good in cream. I look good when I'm creaming. I mean!!--let's move on.

(note: does "creaming" refer to all ejaculation, or just male? [Freakin' patriarchy!] I want to make sure I haven't just embarrassed myself. Again. Moving on...)

So! I decided it would be lots of fun to get some Legos to play with. You see, Brielle had recommended the book, Sophie's World ("A Novel about the History of Philosophy," which is kind of like "A Can of Beer About a Dog"), which proclaims boldly that the most ingenious toy in the world is Lego: it is basic, unbreakable, comes in many varieties, and can build just about anything, just like the Greek concept of the atom (which, the author reminds us, is "un-cuttable" in Greek).

So, in-keeping with my teenage midlife crisis (and over-use of the word "so;" I think it's so so-so), I decide it would be the damned coolest thing to get the big buckets of Legos that they make for little kids only (when you grow up, you get pre-arranged Spider-Man and Star Wars Legos; no fun), and make a giant interstellar hub on my nightstand, which would be the center of intergalactic politics throughout my room. Let's say the Green Helmet Aliens are having a trade dispute, saying that the Space Police charge too much to ship studded red blocks back and forth. Why, the Space Police can simply grab their mighty weapon of Leticia's Shoe and show those fanatics the what-for! Hours of entertainment.

No, really (notice: "no" and not "so." Come on, give me some love), I wanted Earth to be on my nightstand, while the alien mermaid colony (the all-female land of love and delight, where all they do is swim around and learn about icky silly men, who they will have to encounter once they leave their planet for their interstellar journey upon their eighteenth year; hey, I live for this stuff) would be on my bureau, and I think I would put a skatepark on top of my desk, decorating my Lego people all Jet Grind Radio like. (This would make up for Jet Grind Radio not having a level editor. I must say, it's a good thing the game didn't, because then it would become so cool it would become uncool, sucking in all the coolness around it. The whole game market would crash from the overabundance and then scarcity of coolness. Nobody would be able to come up with a new game idea because everything cool is covered by Jet Grind Radio with a level editor. Besides, I'd never get my homework done.)

But nooo, I go to the toy stores, and NONE of them have those big buckets of Legos I remember. It finally took going to an icky department store (I don't like department stores; they remind me of Nazi Germany for reasons I will explain later) to find one, but unfortunately, size was both relative and against me at the time I was young. Big buckets of Legos are pretty damned small when you're fourteen years past the target market.

So, it started to happen. I got lonely. I mean, I got really really lonely. Not lonely as in, "Oh I wish somebody would just show me the secrets of womanhood and how men work" (a condition I am very, VERY familiar with) but the marketable kind of lonely, as in, "Oh, I wish I had a friend that would make this $30 dollhouse worth it'' or "This beautiful blue plush mermaid is dear to my heart, but I won't buy it unless I have a trusty sidekick to buy the pink one." You know how marketers would like you to believe that, if only you bought one more movie, suddenly you're social life wouldn't seem all so bad, because you would've just bought a set of eight prepackaged friends burned to an optical disk? I could feel it burning holes in my soul. I could invite somebody over to play with these Legos-- NO! LETICIA! IN THE GRIP OF CAPITALISM!-- MUST-- ESCAPE-- MUST-- CHANNEL-- LENIN...

So, it took Suzy dragging me by my legs and insisting that NOBODY makes any twenty-dollar Lego buckets that say "Make Your Own Lego Space Station, Skatepark, And Alien Mermaid Colony Where Young Girls Learn The Secrets of Sexuality, With No Instructions Included" in order to get me to leave the department store. As I got onto the cold bus I just wished I had that pink mermaid, so I could name her Betsy and set her beside me while we watch movies and I'll ask her questions like, "Wow, is that prostitute hot or what?" and pretend she's actually concurring with that perpetual smile that's been sewn onto her face by impoverished Third World children.

So, I'm officially going to rectify this by running myself through the scanner, at which point I will be converted into raw binary data, to be posted on my blog for all of you to consume. I may not have any friends, but at least I'll have a purpose. Eat me up, yo.


Boys-videogames-boys-hair-books-writing-girls-sexuality-mentor-worry-cherry pie-books-videogames-that one cute girl-that one cute guy-which is cuter-who am I-is it mature to worry about who I am-is it mature to worry about worrying-I wonder if they'll make another Jet Grind Radio-The second one was awful-I like apple pie-Mmmffmfmff-did I really write that one thing-oh I'm a pervert and a dork-no I shouldn't judge myself-would I really enjoy being made into cherry cola....

Suzy: This keeps going, but I'm storing Leticia in this here fishtank until she gets better. Not sure why she wanted to share her binary code with y'all. That's a bad sign. (pours fish food all over Leticia) Yeah...
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