You Don't Own Me

I actually vaguely enjoyed The First Wives' Club. Not that much—I mean it really kinda sucked. I'm pretty obviously fond of any film's inclusion of a musical number though. And this film has "You Don't Own Me," the Lesley Gore song. Gore sings of who sounds like a controlling boyfriend. Little 'feminist' anthem, if you will.

Well, I'd like some liberation, too, but from my emotions. Finals week is over. Semester from Hell is done. It's time to quit the dramatics, the whining, the unhealthy habits, etc. etc. I want to take back my own life...from myself. (This framework sounds like a 90's era Lifetime movie: Getting Back to Me: The Wally Fisher Story or Stop! Don't You Dare, I'm Better Than This: The Wally Fisher Story.) I am a diva. I should not be THIS lame.

So I'm starting a new life plan tomorrow: get up early, exercise, eat a sensible meal, unpack a little, read, do something to study my French, write, start to ween back off Diet Coke, and figure out a new hobby.

You don't own me, motherfucker.

What's the difference if I say, "I'll go away," when I know I'll come back on my knees someday?

Technology will be my downfall. I think that living back in the days where the quickest communication was like pony express would chill me out a bit more...and not only because I think that I would be a lovely letter writer and that ponies are adorable. I hate this instaneous gratification nonsense. Now, whenever I don't IMMEDIATELY receive a text/IM/ask;fjdaklfd in response, I'm freaking out that something has gone awry. Gah. (Side-note: This anxiety also comes as a result of watching far too many episodes of To Catch a Predator, 48 Hours Mystery, 48 Hours on WE, CSI, NCIS, Law & Order: SVU, and slasher films. But that's a minor detail.)

Not to mention the fact that youtube steals about 3 hours of my day everyday. Yes, I could acquire some self-control, but I think it'd be easier for the internet/cell phones/etc. to cease being. Then I'd be so much more productive. Or bored. But there's a chance I could be productive, whereas right now, I'm watching videos of 3 different versions of Barbra Streisand's "My Man," and far too many Shirley Bassey concert clips.

I really try quitting or at least cutting down, but I'm really bad at it. I'm lazy and I like routine. Besides, now that I'm home, even if I self-control my Mac, I'll just go onto someone else's computer. There's no point in pretending to quit if I can't just do it.

Speaking of which, I'm back on Diet Coke...in a big way. Let's nip this in the bud (am I the only one who, at one point, thought that was supposed to say 'butt' and was very confused?) and not let it become last summer in repeat. I am not a youtube clip. No mo' replay. Yes, yes, I did that. Because I'm lame and as soon as I finished finals I stopped being able to think critically...if I ever was capable.