NOTE TO SELF [weekend edition]:
shopping does not cure homesickness.
it does not cure anything.
it is, in fact, an affliction in and of itself.
all you've done for the past four days is bitched and bitched about how you have too much stuff.. but as soon as you get a little lonely, a little weepy, where do you go? a museum? ... a park? ... on a nice walk? ... to bed? ... hell no. you go to fucking topshop.
the biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig topshop.
yes, you got loads of adorable clothes that you couldn't get at home ... but, in breaking the promise you made to yourself [the one about not shopping], you have officially forfeited any right you may have had [not that you really had one in the first place; you're the one who packed those bags] to complain about how much shit you have.
fucking deal with it.
posted by marissa @ 10:06:00 AM
3 Comments:
So go to the Saatchi (spelling?). Or the Tate. Or go see some Moroccans drumming. Or go somewhere neither of us have been...or am I missing a oint here too?
well.. that pretty much was my point.. shopping as recreation is my 'default setting'.. i was supposed to break that habit while i'm over here.. there are so many better things i could be doing with my time. there's an exhibition on modernist design at the V&A.. i think i'm gonna hit that shit up tomorrow, then on monday i'm off to madchester, and i won't be back in london til friday.
i miss you. check yr email.
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