Sometimes, when I have nothing much else going on (which is every freakin' day, apparently) my mind-grapes get themselves all up in a bunch (Get it? Mind grapes! Bunch! Ha! Genius!), and I find myself compelled, obsessed, and indeed bewitched by things that I don't even like. It is just that my mind, so eager to escape the hum-drum life, trapped within my skull, with hardly any light, or ventilation, dreams of a bigger, better life out there: taking to the road, hitching a bindle up it's cerebellum, and traveling off into the sunset, destined for adventure...
Okay, so I don't know exactly where I was going with that brain metaphor, but I doubt that really matters. Mom, if you're reading this, just ignore that part. It didn't make sense. I'm sorry. Send money.
The point is, I don't have very much control over certain aspects of my subconscious which is why things that I don't really want to fantasize about keep turning up in my day-dreams. A lot of the time it's Bea Arthur. A lot of the time. But I digress...
For instance, take the above photograph- a Fiat 500. A cute fun little vehicle for zipping around European streets has crossed over to Canada and because of the cute little commercials (Damn you J-Lo!) I imagine myself getting one (By selling both of my kidneys of course) and driving around town until -WHAM- November hits and I go out, get into my zippy little car, and find that I'm actually sitting in the snowbank that formed on top of that zippy little car. Even in the summer months I would hardly be able to haul around my
crippling loneliness collected side-of-the-road bottles groceries in that back seat. But damn if I don't stop and watch every commercial, or gawk at every one on the highway.
Next, for instance take these old-timey looking appliances. I spend like 20 seconds a week in the kitchen, and I keep candy in my current stove, and the fridge might as well be called a vodka locker, but I still spend an inordinate amount of time crafting an alternate universe centered around owning these appliances.
I'd like pastel colours, I'd store vegetables in the fridge and then use them to make salads and other healthy crap. I'd write poetry. I'd turn on the gas stove and
stick my head in it bake things. Things would be so grand, and old timey. Why I'd even run right out and buy a new victrola and learn to charleston.
Snap back to reality (Woah! There goes gravity!) I don't really like the looks of these dem things. They look like they belong in a cartoon. And while I may sound like I belong in a mushroom hut in Smurf village I don't intend to decorate like it.
AHHHH!! THE AGONY!
The hats of yesteryear are making their triumphant return to the lofty position they enjoyed before WWI. These beaded, bouffant buffering, head-bowls are enjoyed by class-y and class-less alike.....
Wait. This just happens to be a picture of Dame Maggie Smith I had saved on my computer for....uh... completely regular reasons. But the fact of the matter is that I am completely obsessed with the BBC miniseries "Downton Abbey" which brings me to my final stylish contradiction.
As anyone would know, I am, first and foremost, the humble son of two hardworking people, who rarely gets overcome with delusions of grandeur. (HA!) Which is why I find it so striking that I'm drawn to this inter-play of rich and poor, and why I covet the ancestral home of the Earl and Countess of Grantham
While it would be completely against my humble, and simple quest for a quiet, un-grand, life of a hardworking person, I find that I could, if I had to, become acclimatized to life in a house such as this.
Why, I think in a house that big I would have enough room for my
crippling loneliness collection of ceramic cats porn completely regular belongings. And although my worldview regarding yard and house maintenance has always been of the "do a bad enough job never to be asked to do it again" variety I am sure with a staff of 14 or so I could manage.
I mean look at that wood-work!!!
So while I would have to give up all these thoughts and endless mind-threads should I ever have the misfortune of living a full and complete life, for now I will just have to suffer through the agony my subconscious inflicts upon me. (and you! Suckas!) Liking things while actually not really liking them all that much. Yep, we all have our crosses to bear.
This has been anther exciting installment of Stylish Contradictions!