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Spring Fever Suckage 2005-02-08

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So stupid, really, how a song or a movie will make me run to this bit of virtual real estate so that I can express how deeply I'm feeling at the moment.

What a crock. I'm such a sheep, sometimes. There is nothing deep about the fact that I'm a puppet on the end of Hollywood's strings.

The truth of the matter is that I've watched Love Actually about 5 times over the last few months, and I rented Shall We Dance over the weekend, and a few days ago I bought both soundtracks, and now I'm just neck deep in empty tears and false heart swells. I'm bloody swimming in used Kleenex, because bloody TBS aired bloody Dawson's Creek very last episode, and of course that thing will suck me in like lint through a vacuum so that I don't get any work done, and end up completely wasting two hours either blubbing or smiling faintly through shiny eyes, because someone is kissing someone else, and it's just so obvious that they're meant to be together and and and...

Oh, for the love of God. I'm not supposed to be this hormonal! That's not 'til next week!

It must be because of this weird thaw that Toronto is having. My body thinks it's supposed to rear into spring fever. Oh, God! That, and that bloody, horrible holiday is coming up. Damn Valentine's Day. That's what it is. Valentine's in less than a week, and You've Got Mail is on TV this weekend, and Joni Mitchell is singing Both Sides Now in my head all day long and... AND I'M BLOODY OFF CHOCOLATE AGAIN! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!

I have to go hang out in a goth bar or something. Or maybe watch some obscure film-student flick. Anything to quell the silly romantic inside of me - she's causing all these feelings to rise up and make me feel all full of love and such. Except, it's all empty calories. Like junk food - you eat enough of it, and it makes you feel full, but then, all you have is a few hours of gut rot and a couple of zits.

So stupid, really.

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iimage: Jack Vettriano