I’m a fan of horror films: they remind me that things could always be worse, and if everything goes to pot I’m safe in the knowledge that I haven’t yet had to saw off my own foot. My late night decision to watch Mia Farrow and her fabulous pixie cut get knocked up by the devil always comes back to haunt me though: anytime my best friend abandons our place of residence for the week I’m left feeling like Drew Barrymore and the remains of her burnt popcorn.
Sure, there are perks to being in the house alone: just this morning I peed with the door open and danced around the kitchen in my underwear listening to Demi Lovato: I’m sure the neighbours loved that. Unfortunately, I haven’t yet developed a fool-proof plan to deal with the killer spiders that everyone on Facebook insists on posting about multiple times a day.
I’ve tried almost everything, from locking said spider in the kitchen and deciding this is the month I’m going to go on the ‘I can’t get to the fridge’ diet, to jumping over the sofa, screaming and hoping the mere sound of my voice sends every spider in the vicinity running for miles: nothing seems to work! I’ll just have to implement the only spider capturing method that’s ever really worked for me: asking a stranger from the flat upstairs to do it instead: Neve Campbell would be so proud.
I’m starting to think that I might be a little bit of a twat – if my life were a romantic comedy this would be the point where I have a mental breakdown and drink an entire bottle of vodka whilst crying in bed. I’ve been sick all over myself, accidentally gotten on the train to somewhere an hour away from where I live, lost my month old iPhone and spent all of my wages a week after pay day.
I’m just waiting for the upbeat musical montage where things start to piece themselves together and the beautiful yet quirky leading lady bumps into Hugh Jackman whilst tripping over her own feet. I’m going to apply the rule “what would Katherine Heigl do?” to my life in order to secure the Hollywood happy ending so popular with my favourite cheesy rom-coms. My list of things to do include scrapbooking, regularly attending the gym and reading underneath large trees whilst making friends with adorable looking squirrels.
I’d much rather fast forward to the end of the film where I marry a charming, cardigan-wearing poet and win the lottery. I bet this kind of shit never happens to Keira Knightley
I’m feeling kind of depressed at the moment. Not the kind of depression whereby you get hit by a car, break both your legs, lose your job and feel desperately alone in the world. Not even the ‘I’ve had a bad day’ kind of depression where you miss your bus, you’re late for work, get stung by a bee and realise you have no wine in the fridge. My mindset just feels darker somehow, and I blame it on my quest to be come a more well rounded, interesting person who enjoys reading some light ‘Nietzsche’ in my spare time.
I’ve always enjoyed reading darker material, even as a child my favourite book was ‘The Little Match Girl’ by ‘Hans Christian Anderson.’ If any of you haven’t read it, I recommend it, beautiful and slightly haunting, but SPOILER ALERT she dies at the end so not the most cheerful of childhood books. It’s a similar story with films, as a child I used to adore ‘A Little Princess,’ a family film with a happy ending, but still, she thinks her father is dead and has to become a servant, all alone in the world to pay her way. Incase you haven’t guessed there’s a running theme here, loneliness. Something about it has always both terrified and captivated me from an early age, and the books I read and films I watch quite often reflect that. I’ve always romanticized the idea of being alone, and found beauty in it, even in my darkest times I’ve found a sort of sad enjoyment out of the pain that comes from loneliness.
Right now I’m reading ‘Intimacy’ by ‘Hanif Kureishi’, the story of a man who is about to leave his family. The dialogue is so honest that reading it shatters me, and left me feeling slightly uneasy in a way I haven’t felt whilst reading before. It tells the truth, the truth about feeling alone and unhappy in a relationship, and I found myself feeling drained after reading only a few pages. Instead all I wanted was to watch ‘The Notebook’ or ‘Dirty Dancing’ or any romantic film that results in a ‘happy ever after.’ The twisted enjoyment and poetic beauty I used to find in being alone is no longer there, instead it upsets me. I want my ‘Notebook’ moment, I want someone to give a cheesy speech to me about how I’m all they want, I want my happy ending. The next thing you know I’ll be dotting hearts over my ‘i’s’ and listing ‘All You Need is Love’ by ‘The Beatles’ as my favourite song; sickening.