I’ve never really been much into celebrating birthdays, but over the last 10 years I’ve consistently hinted that I want a Powerpuff Girls birthday cake. I’ve never seen one ready made in a shop so it would have to be a bespoke hand made item. Hinting is obviously not something I feel good about and rather hypocritically I frequently go out of my way to avoid the uptake of hints proffered to me. I find them distasteful, sneaky and underhand. Hence no surprise that birthday after birthday passes with no sign of a sugary Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup.
Of course, with most things I want, instead of waiting for someone else to bring me my heart’s desire on a silver platter I am perfectly capable of leaving the house (if absolutely necessary) and obtaining the item for myself. But when one exercises such independence where birthday cakes are concerned, it can feel a bit like this:
I have the pleasure of knowing at least two people who could make a personalised confectionery delight to my specifications so, as sad as it would be, it is not outside the realms of possibility. Alternatively, I issue my friends an ultimatum that this year is their last chance. Last chance, you hear? But that would be unkind, that would be the old me not the newly sensible, tolerant and kind me. When given a Buttercup trinket this Christmas just passed, I asked the conferer of this gift how he knew who my favourite Powerpuff Girl is. I shouldn’t really have been surprised, we had spent 7 years living together but he’d always seemed like one of those people too absorbed in their own, clearly more interesting, life to notice the fickle goings on of other people’s existence. In the end it turned out to be attributable to the simple fact that Buttercup is the one with the bad attitude, who else would my favourite be. A fair testament to my character. It’s the thought that counts.
I can’t say what it is about three little animated crime fighting sisters in a daily battle with an evil monkey or a creepy butterfly and a host of other nemeses that appeals to me. I have a weakness for many things cute and sparkly, being a late developer in many ways I was rather dilatory in hitting my pink phase and never really grew out of it. I also find the darker side of human nature far more entertaining and for a cartoon which is ostensibly aimed at children, little girls at that, it is refreshingly shady.
Whatever the reason for its appeal to my frivolous nature, let’s not ruin it by searching too deep and affixing a label. It would be a welcome distraction this evening after the over-stimulating day I’ve had today. Sometimes it seems as though my brain loses it’s protective filtration mechanisms. Suddenly, all the world is trying to crawl inside my head with me. Usually a fairly secluded backwater of civilisation, my brain finds the intrusion unwelcome. I can protect it from the assault of undifferentiated conversation by putting some earphones in and turning the music up. But there really is no way of stopping the olfactory overload which, given the primal and powerfully evocative nature of the sense of smell, forces itself upon one’s attention in a much more distressing manner. It is incredibly difficult to feel sensible and responsible, let alone benevolent and kind, while spending the daily commute identifying which smell is emanating from which aberrant member of the human race. Fortunately, this is not an everyday affair and I count my blessings because I couldn’t even begin to imagine how bleak and desolate my existence would be if I couldn’t smell anything.
FRPs for bank shift pay: +18 (as long as I don’t spend it…all it’s doing is filling out the overdraft, at this point I’m almost wondering if it is worth the sacrifice of days off.)
CRPs for being brain dead in class today: -1
GRPs for cooking enough dinner for tonight and leftovers for tomorrow, despite really need ing to redress the sleep deficit: +1
Total so far…
- Karma: +2
- FRP: +50.1
- Relationships: 0
- Family: +2
- Friends: +6 [Supplementary PPs: +2]
- Career: +6
- Fitness: -9
- General: +4