I should have spent this evening doing just a tiny bit of light reading (you know, Beckett, Kristeva etc) so i had some theoretical backbone supporting the last 500 words i have to write in order to be done with uni for the semester.
But instead, Auntie Em, Caity and I literally* (yes, literally) rolled on the floor laughing while watching nineties video clips on youTube. It was that good.
...actually the end of semester!
I'd forgotten just how much fun such classics as the Macarena, Barbie Girl, Wannabe and If Ya Gettin Down could be. And this was at about 8.30pm on a Monday night, and all we'd had to drink was water and tea. Imagine what we'll be like when we've actually handed in all our work and had a glass of wine or 3.
...the magic solution to all your problems!
there really is something so cathartic about pulling all those bad, tacky, hip-swinging, dance steps out of the closet and putting them on loud and proud. In the approximately 3.05minutes it takes for a piece of pop to do its thing, you can really can get your heart rate going, you can laugh, you might even cry and, seriously, its as though there were no problems in your life, your uni, your federal government, Israel or the entire universe.
Which reminds me, earlier on in the evening we'd been reading from one of my favourite books, "Walking Backwards in High Heels: the Impossible Art of Being Female", and the authors had offered some valuable tips on how not to go mad. Useful advice indeed. They remind us that:
"There are going to be moments when no one gets it... the only solution to this one is to understand that sometimes there is no one in the entire world who gets it. This is the human state, and there is no pill for it. It is part of the deal. You can get furious, and tearful, and disappointed, and that is fine. You know your own remedies: red wine, plain chocolate, dancing about hysterically in the kitchen at eleven at night, with the songs of the mid-seventies' Stones very, very loud. It's a reality check, and maybe everyone, no mater how secretly romantic, needs those."
So perhaps it was worth my while to spend my night dancing to nineties pop music and literally LOLing, with real friends, engaging in what Danny Wallace calls "Face-to-facebook", rather than getting up close and personal with theories on the overlap between modernism, the historical avant garde and post-modernism, or disheartened by and the presence or lack of meaning in life, art and literature.
* seriously, have you ever really considered how much we literally overuse (and actually, often incorrectly) the words: literally, seriously, actually and really. think about it, seriously, (THIS ISN'T FUNNY) when was the last time you were actually, literally speechless or actually laughed your head (or arse) off... unless of course you were laughing so hard it constituted a work out and you did some muscle toning and lost a bit of fat, i don't think you've ever laughed your arse off, but if you have, that would seriously be an awesome effort.
