Woe is me

My mum had some Trinny and Susanna crap on the tv about colours. A whole programme that was basically oh my goodness different colours suit different people! My word, who knew? So the only bit I paid attention to was when they categorised women into shades. Guess what shade I am? None of them because I didn't exist on their system. Just like I don't exist in the system that creates foundation. Oh they covered so many combinations but dark hair, dark eyes and skin like you saw a ghost and then panicked and ran blindly, fell down some stairs, snapped your neck and then came back as a zombie? No. I'm on my own there. How will I know how to dress myself? I must now sit sobbing in mismatched underwear because clearly I am some sort of freak.

I had a dream that I had this notebook I once didn't buy because it was expensive and didn't have many pages. I had forgotten all about it as well and it was beautiful. And I bought it (in my dream) in this fantastic notebookshop that I found in Paris last time I was there. I mean really it was like a stationary shop but it had piles of moleskins in the window and these fantastic little books with fuzzy covers and oh god I just remembered this other shop I found. It had handsewn leather notebooks, incredibly fancy and utterly beautiful and I just stood there while the woman watched me suspiciously because the place was tiny as I just touched every single one and sighed. They were so freaking expensive. This is all because I miss my diary which I filled with utter crap but it was perfect in every way and I can't find a suitable replacement so I had to make do with ikea books. I mean they're good books with good paper and I like writing in them but they only excite me when I put them all in a pile. Goddamn dreams, I was convinced I had that book. I went looking for it this morning and then I remembered I couldn't buy it because I needed bus fare. Goddamn subway breaking down. Oh god they had a gorgeous notebook in the Louvre gift shop as well that was such an odd colour but I can't get too upset about that because I bought a necklace instead and I adore that necklace. Gah buyer's remorse is awful. Let's move on shall we?

I watched The Cell yesterday. And it was stunning and terrible which is what I'd heard anyway. My mum came in near the end and asked questions. After I tried to muddle my way through the plot and it was drawing to a close she suddenly declared that she had seen this film and wandered away. She was more annoyed that I hogged the tv all day as I worked out how to transfer vhs to dvd made more difficult by the fact that The Maltese Falcon and the Big Sleep were on the same video and I had to pay attention and press stop to change dvds half way through. She told me in hushed tones just before she went to bed that she really hated Humphrey Bogart and I assured her that it was ok, I wouldn't make her sit through his films again because I was done. I lied! I have one more. Mwahahahaha.