This past week I’ve been on my laptop the whole time writing, receiving and forwarding emails to the four corners of the world. Of course having such a device is indeed a luxury for anyone. But as my only method of communication, I am growing tired of its use, and therefore kind of deluded.
University this, that, loan, rent, budget, sending copies to Mum, Dad, and emailing far too many student societies asking to be part of them. Oh my god save my eyeballs from imploding! All made worse by the fact I’ll probably be using eBooks as study material for the next few years, I’ll be glued to this machine 24/7, and that frightens me.
My stepmother usually wears sunglasses during her Korean soap opera marathon sessions to dim the harsh brightness of the computer screen and alleviate eye discomfort. When I walk past her on the sofa on weekends, I can’t help but imagine someone trying to recreate the 3D cinema experience – but failing – in the comfort of their own home. Or maybe she’s read one of those tongue-in-cheek girly guides which instruct you in simple steps how to become a certain category of ‘female’:
Wear sunglasses to be a real diva! Wear them all the time, even at home, for that cool, no-messing, classy look!’
I decided to give it ago this evening whipping on some shades – white faux Ray-Bans – to read some interesting articles. So far it has proved very useful and beneficial; I’m no longer squeezing the muscles around the ocular area to resist the glare of my screen which means less chance of getting wrinkles at a young age and becoming blind by the age of thirty.
Earlier today, my friend ‘King Kong’ saved me from web-surfing madness and computer keyboard induced repetitive strain injury by taking me out for the day. We started off with lunch at California Pizza Kitchen where we were served by a very energetic waitress who spoke with a narrow, pinched voice and whose behaviour was the topic of a cultural discussion between King Kong and myself: the difference between American and British waiters.
One of the external doors of the mall building opened into a store call American Girl, a dolls store aimed at young girls looking to adopt, spoil and treasure their first best friends. Shawn expressed a dislike of the shop’s ideals and attitudes, but I insisted on entering it to form my own views.
Oh my lord, it was nothing I had ever seen before. Everything looks pink. There are boxes of dolls everywhere, dolls’ clothes and matching outfits for their guardians, wardrobes and hats; everything you can imagine in your own life was there in minimised form. There’s even a salon where you can pay a standard price (for a human haircut, never mind a dolly one!) to have your doll’s mop restyled.
This glass display caught my eye. Obviously if you want to play the cello you must wear a wedding dress, and vice versa. Take note of the prices in the bottom right hand corner…
For your musical doll, you can even purchase actual sheet music…
Look at the determination in those eyes; she’s clearly going to be a classical superstar.
Ah! So much doll!
Hair pieces, extensions, accessories…
Two sisters with their dollies:
The only other pictures I took in the mall were these:
Very, very tempted…
We finished the day with a movie Percy Jackson 2 and large drinks and popcorn. The film was hilariously awful by the way.
We were the only ones in the theatre and could insult, munch and laugh as much as we pleased.
If you’re stuck to your computer, try the sunglasses thing. You won’t regret it.
Also, if you’re wondering why none of the photos in my previous posts are visible, I can only apologise and tell you the truth. It’s all your fault; they’ve been viewed too many times. I don’t know how it works but that’s why. From now on, instead of Photobucket I’m going to use Imgur to load my photos.
But don’t let that put you off! I’m happy that they’re being viewed!