today is my first day off in six days. tomorrow i've got a job for davis studio's at hallen elementary in bridgeport. i plan to bring disinfectant, along with a book to read. the only reason i took the job was because its not the same kind of work as target, there'll probably be a lot of downtime. in target news, i'm generally working around 35 hours a week now on average. i'm considering changing my availability to only mornings except for a few days so that i could have, you know, a life. my crush has also done a bunk on me and left. i'm quietly devastated, more than i'd like to admit actually. i was planning on writing the whole thing out, but halfway through realized that it really did make a good story even when nothing happened, so that's what i'm going to do. i want to fictionalize it, so that i can exaggerate some things, take a different approach than typical nonfiction, but i feel extremely self-conscious about it. i feel a bit like i'm taking something that doesn't belong to me. there's also that with target being my world right now, i have developed this paranoia that all who work there see and judge everything i do. even the stuff that only my computer could possibly see. i've been thinking about changing my hair, coloring it or cutting it, and i found myself not wanting to because the only people who would see it would be my family and every one at target. i could do it for myself, but i don't need anymore than a studded belt and make-up to keep me happy. i really desperately need a life.
i was reading over some of my old stuff from nonfiction class. it came about because i watched the original halloween recently, so i wanted to compare my reaction to what i wrote about the new version. i really don't like my writing from back then much, which is a little disturbing because i can't imagine that i have written enough in the time since then to have improved that much. and everyone seemed to like that stuff at the time, even i did. the nonfiction style strikes as me too snarky, too satirical to suit me, which is probably why i want to turn this recent experience into a work of fiction. this girl made me want to start writing again. if she had stuck around a little longer, she might've even gotten some poetry out of me. so now i'm just going to steal the idea of her and make her into a character. it feels wrong, almost disrespectful, but if i do it right i think i could make something great. i just have to shoo away those imaginary eyes that keep hovering over my shoulder and i can start.
for all those not paying attention,
the video for "bad romance" is out. i feel like its a bit rougher around the edges than the other videos, there are so many different seemingly unrelated scenes and visuals, but i like the story from what i can discern. gaga is a newborn monster (her in the tub, nearly naked with big doe eyes and twitchy uncoordinated fingers) who is kidnapped and dolled up for a cynical and perverted viewing audience. she's sold to the highest bidder, but not realizing the monster she is, she fucking blows his mind. we of course see the clues throughout the video - we see her as the greedy narcissist, in black before a mirror; we see her naked, pure human side as well as several different forms of her monstrous alien side. and it all adds up to her bursting into flames and leaving a crispy black bed and skeleton behind, which made me laugh. i want to always think of myself that way, as a newborn monster, a sum of many parts but ultimately whole and unbreakable. as for the song, i love it, but i'm not as addicted to it as i thought i would be. i'm kind of preferring the italo, ace of base reminiscent "alejandro." i'm excited for the new album, it'll be another record that i'm actually willing to shell out money for. though its probably going to get pre-ordered from amazon, because i'm not so nostalgic that i want to wander over to fye to get it.