the next person...

...who describes 'Bowling for Columbine' as a funny film is going to get a copy of it shoved where the sun is incapable of providing illumination. I watched it last night and can safely say that it is not a funny film. It had funny bits, yeah, and I laughed, twice in fact. But if you can walk away from a film like that and think it was a comedy, you're seriously missing the point. It contains CCTV footage from Columbine High School on the day of the massacre. Call me crazy, but I'd say that's the part of the documentary that'll be sticking in my mind, not the funny parts.

It was actually the most shocking film I've ever seen. It wouldn't have been, had it not been for the footage from Columbine. I know that films are made in a certain way, to provoke a certain reaction, but seeing that footage, hearing the 911 calls and then hearing Charlton Heston yelling "from my cold, dead hands" while waving a rifle in the air was a kick in the balls I really wish I hadn't received so late at night.

Ironically, one of Mr Moore's very good points is that the media has made us far more afraid that we should be. Yep. Sure has. *says Fi, hiding deeper under the covers and clutching her baseball bat with sweaty paws*

The thing is, with things like this, you have to face up to them (and I would completely recommend seeing this film if you haven't already), but you need to do it right. Watching a film about guns, fear and violence on your own, late at night, is not a good idea if you have a nervous disposition and are, let's face it, a complete pussy. Like me *see my complete failure to watch Straw Dogs if you need proof*

****

Anyway, after a late-night debate with myself, God and my teddy bear about the nature of evil and some interesting Nytol induced nightmares about guns and schools, I needed some normality. A good healthy dose of thinking about nothing at all that was important.

So I went to Tesco to do some overtime and thought about boys. Boy, specifically.

Reasons why my decicion to stay single was clearly unnecessary:
1) Was telling him about Bowling for Columbine and feeling ever so intelligent and media-savvy when I referred to the Columbine High School Shitings instead of Shootings. Vintage Fi. Being disrespectful to the dead and sounding like a brainless twat all in one go. Je suis en peu retarde.
2) Banging my funny bone on the till drawer and yelling 'bollocks' when he smiled at me when what I clearly should have done is smiled back.
3) Leaving my locker key on my till and having to run back down the stairs, thus interrupting an actual conversation with the man of my dreams, tripping on the door and not getting to say goodbye.

Ha. The thing is, the gap between my last two boyfriends was so embarassingly small (not my finest hour, it has to be said) that I thought I should make an effort to NOT get into another relationship until I was done with my a-levels and, you know, less messed up in my head. Spending my first few months of singledom obsessing over That Guy Who Didn't Like Me Back kind of defeated the point of being single, in that I was still messed in the head and not focussing on The More Important Things In Life. Eg. Jesus Christ.

Now my head is slightly less messed, in that it's been about two weeks since I last went into the Bad Place and started hating myself and the world. I feel Ok. I have no expectation of this feeling lasting, I'm still having nightmares and sleep issues, but I can get out of bed in the morning now. Which is nice.

I personally would like to source this transformation to my absence from the gym in the last two weeks. What can I say, laziness makes me happy!

But I'm still messed. Can you imagine me getting into a relationship when I'm still like this? When at any moment I could go back in to the Bad Place and not come out? It's all very well blogging about the way I've been this last few months, or talking about it (however vaguely) with friends and people who I love but it's not exactly what a guy wants to hear. And it's not exactly something I'm about to keep a secret.

So I guess it's ok that I'm socially constipated and inacapable of being smiled at without accidentally hollering obscenities, because who the hell am I kidding? I can't win here.