.Little Girl Tears.

For the second time these days I feel an overwhelming sadness brimming inside. The first time was on Saturday, at five o'clock in the morning, after I twisted with the best of them at a local club. The gang, all of them strangers bar one who was my pseudo brother, was sitting in a creperie eating delights smothered in chocolate and hazelnuts, coconut and strawberries.
'Would you like some?' they asked. I shook my head from side to side and smiled.
'Are you sure?'
'Oh yes,' I said, but the truth is that I wanted some very much.

For the countless time in my life, I digress.

Suddenly, the male to my right, the boring male who hit on me earlier on, much to my chagrin, said something along the lines of being tired of listening to the Jews go on about the Holocaust.

Self-righteous by nature and with enough whiskey in me to argue with this stranger in this well-lit cafe, my eyes widened and I said, 'Excuuuse me?'
'They don't let us forget it,' he said. The table agreed.
'They shouldn't!' I said. 'Millions of people died!'
'Lots of other countries have suffered the same fate,' they argued. 'Maybe worse.'
'They should not be forgotten either. Germany has been politically correct for sixty years,' I said. 'The Americans have destroyed three different countries in half that time. Maybe if Vietnam or Kuwait made a big fuss, Iraq wouldn't be happening right now.'
'Ah,' they said. 'You have a point.'

It went on like this for a while and then I fell silent, feeling the issue of intolerance weigh heavily on my shoulders. It sounds silly but I was suddenly overwhelmed by people's inability to get along. Don't hate anyone for their skin colour or religion or sexuality. It's so damn simple!

In the car my friend said, 'You made some good points in there.'
I replied flatly, 'It's just common sense.'


The second sadness will sound utterly ridiculous.
Realising that my copy (1950's editon) has been missing for some years now, I did some quick research to see how easy it will be to find again. (Not that it matters, I want my copy, nothing will replace that.) I came across some information about the rights being sold for a movie. To a company called Chick Flicks.

Readers, I cried.

Having had a few minutes to compose myself, I think I have pinpointed the reasons for my tears. Recently, I was watching some dumb film with Sarah Michelle Gellar. Suddenly, it seemed familiar. It was in fact one of my favourite books: The Girls Guide to Hunting and Fishing, only it wasn't called that anymore and they took out all the quirky, dark parts to make it into some stupid romcom. The very next day I find out that Gellar will be playing in the film version of another favourite book of mine- Veronika Decides to Die. Sarah Michelle as Veronika. Have you heard of anything so absurd?

I think I cried because they're butchering these beautiful little books, rendering them into the film equivalent of the colour beige to appeal to the masses.

Damnit, I was having a grand day up until now. I washed my hair and sang along with Elvis Costello and Neneh Cherry and Fatboy Slim. I was really loving life today. And so I shall continue! After all, I am going for cocktails tonight...