Ova Cozies
Already in my hand was a clear shopping back holding some sea green yarn and bamboo needles from Knit NY. Then I stepped up to the generically metal/goth/nondenominational hybrid girl at the Virgin Mega store counter with my selections, and felt so unpunk rock.
- Sarah McLaughlin’s Afterglow
- Nico’s Chelsea Girls
- Nico’s The Marble Index
- Joanna Newsom’s Ys
As soon as I put everything on the counter I became self aware like computers in the year 1997, and thought, “This is what shopping with my ovaries looks like.”
Perhaps I should knit them little ova-cozies. Sometimes I just pms in weird ways. I mean, I never buy CDs. And then also, not so much with the ren-fest chicks on the cover. Yowza. Shopping is the gathering of the post-industrial age.
The whole time I was browsing all I could think was “back in my day a Misfits patch actually meant something. Now you can just buy all this crap willy-nilly. Ramones and Misfits and oh man… The Velvet Underground and Nico. Shit. This makes me not even want to buy it even though I honestly already wanted to. This is terrible.”
There’s a lot of inner monologue when I shop.
It was a lovely balanced weekend, despite this here evidence. I played guitar hero and wii golf and tennis, and drank guiness and ate Sugar Sweet Sunshine cupcakes with Shirley and gang, walked all over with Dana, threw up the horns with the boys, curled up and cuddled with the bunnies, and watched Little Miss Sunshine and Purple Rain. I think we were hard on Purple Rain back in the day… it’s no less silly than all those other 80’s movies, except Prince I realize is sincere, he sincerely licks his fingers while giving you the eyes, while spewing the crowd with guitargasms. He’s a sensitive soul, that one.
If I were organized, and if I had this idea that just now came to me a week ago — it would be to have a drunken co-ed craft party on Valentine’s Day that involved making glitter & glue fanmail valentines to the likes of Seth Green and Prince.
Guess we could still do that!
p.s. The Ys album immediately made me visualize the following: grass hill hoary with ice, camera pans to pale woman’s thin hand, limply holding ax dripping with blood. music rises in the background as sparrows take flight off to the upper left corner of the screen, red blood in lower right contrasts with blue of frozen cow pond on upper left in bg, symbolizing isolation and stagnation. (and then it just all gets kinda hazy but the peach fuzz on my thighs stands up in alarm. wow. this music is so much more unsettling than anything glen danzig ever sang about.)
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