I must make this very clear to you. Shopping makes me very uncomfortable. I'm not a typical female. Whenever I shop, be it because of a conscious decision that I need a new jacket, or to kill time, or to calm me down when I'm stressed, it just flusters me incredibly. I don't know why I shop to try to calm myself down, it does the opposite. I actually feel physically uncomfortable: I get hot and fidgety. I do not enjoy making decisions - when I go out for a meal my stomach sinks if there are more than 6 dishes on the menu.

And if I start spending money, the floodgates open. I'm not going to add up how much money I spend last time I went clothes shopping because I'm ashamed to find out. I actually blanked a lot of that experience out, I got home and could barely remember what I'd bought. That's how traumatising it is for me. Online shopping is almost as bad, bar one thing:

Helpful shop assistants.

Now, I'm a Saturday girl for a big-brand shop selling CDs and DVDs and games (and various related accessories). And part of my job role involves 'floorwalking', or 'personal shopping'. This involves approaching customers and asking if they need any help. I don't enjoy doing this for a number of reasons: one, nobody ever accepts my help; and two, I know how much I hate it when it happens to me. But I get paid to do it, and it's usually only for an hour at the most, so if I can't find a reason for hiding in the stockroom instead then I'll put up with it.

The reason I bring this up now is because yesterday I had an encounter with a "helpful" shop assistant that was too much for my oddball brain to cope with.

I have the afternoon off college on Wednesdays so yesterday on my way back I decide to stop in the local department store where they have a great trendy make-up counter with brightly coloured eyeliners and things. I'm pleased to spot that the counter is unguarded; the lady on the payroll of my chosen brand is off chatting to her friends over by a distant perfume counter. So I begin browsing, dabbing things on the back of my hand, trying not to get foundation powder on my jacket sleeves.

But less than five minutes later, She appears. Hovering over me in her gaudy red lipstick, she is pretty and intimidating. So I carry on browsing, now feeling faintly embarrassed.

"We have liquid foundation down here too," she says. I do not know what the appropriate response to a comment like this is. Do I carry on looking at the powder, or do I look at what she suggests? Do I ignore her or do I say something?

"Uh... thanks." That's a safe reply, right? I carry on around the display, hoping that was enough for her, but she hangs around, cleaning the lipstick stand or some other task which keeps her less than a yard from me. A minute or so later:

"These matte eyeshadows are actually being discontinued soon, so if you want them you'll have to get them soon."

"Ok." I want to sound more assertive than I feel. I don't look at the matte eyeshadows straight away because I feel that if she gains any control over what I'm looking at, she'll have me hooked and she'll somehow manipulate me into having a full-blown makeover right there in the window of the department store when all I want to do is maybe buy some purple mascara, get the Number 7 bus home and eat my chicken fajita wrap.

As I dip my fingers into the luxury compact eyeshadows, desperately wishing that they provided tissues in this place so the back of my hand could have space left on it, she tries again. "Have you had a look at the powder eyeshadows?"

I'm a rabbit in the headlights. "No?" I don't know why it's a question, I really don't.

"They blend really well together and come in some really nice shades."

By this point I felt so awkward I could have cried. I have never wanted somebody to not do their job as much as I did at that moment. I think I nodded, I can't be sure by this point. I knew I had to make a dash for it, and, stammering a "Thank you", headed for the exit as fast as I could without breaking into a jog.

Now I'm stuck, because I want to buy my nice make-up, and that's the only place that in the area sells it. I'll buy lots of things online, make-up isn't one of those things. What do I do? It's horrific, I'm just a wreck. Maybe I have a phobia of make-up-counter-ladies. This is problematic, as I don't know how to work around it.

If
P = Probability of spending money (as a fraction)

Then P is directly proportional to t, as denoted
P α t

As t approaches 24, P approaches 1
Or, as t → 24, P → 1

Demonstrated by the equation:
P = (1/24)t
or
P = t/24

For example, if I spent 1 hour on the internet yesterday (t  = 1)
P = 1/24

Roughly speaking, that translates as if I went on 24 shopping websites, I would have made a purchase from 1 of them.

If I spend 4 hours on the internet today (t = 4)
P = 4/24
Therefore P = 1/6

Which means I will buy something from a sixth of all of the shopping websites I visit.

As proof, I offer you this:

Today's History
Waterstones.com
hmv.com
play.com
etsy.com
xkcd.com store
ebay.com

Today I bought 5 books ebay.

Q.E.D.

The scary part is, this equation is trufax. I'm gonna be so poor if I don't reduce t.

You know what my new favourite thing to do when I feel depressed is, to cheer myself up? Smoke a cigarette Read Cannibal Corpse's song titles.

Me and a coworker were going through the tracklists' to their albums yesterday. I was almost crying with laughter. Leave Tomb of the Mutilated til the end. ('Addicted to... oh my word!' and 'I... You know, I hear that he does. And there's a live version, so you can listen to it twice!')

Here's a sample of the delights in store for you:

Brain Removal Device - Kill
Blunt Force Castration - The Wretched Spawn
Sanded Faceless - Gore Obsessed

...

There's 10 albums of it! Love it.


And Batman was crazily awesome. We got into the cinema a little bit too late; we were the second row from the very front. So to see the action onscreen, you actually had to move your head from side to side. But oh my daisies, it was good. So good it left me incoherent. And I'm usually 'that person' who goes on and on about all the nuances of the film. I'm so going to see it again.

It sounds sad, but my favourite part of my Lara Croft outfit for the sale event tomorrow is the long hair. I haven't had long hair since I was 7 years old, and I bought this cheap long hairpiece from Peacocks so that I could plait it, and it's lovely. I don't know how I'm going to manage my lunch hour though. I'm gonna have to hide under a large coat.

Today is supposed to be the longest day of the year. And it's miserable, overcast and spitting with rain. It's pretty depressing, from here on in the days are going to be getting shorter again.

I know I make inappropriate comments but I can't stop myself saying them. I've picked that up from my stepdad or something. Except, you know, he has mild Tourette's Syndrome. Which means I don't really have an excuse like he does, I just have no self-restraint.

But, you know, it's all about how you present yourself in the end.

And in world news, a police helicopter chased after a UFO from Cardiff to Devon, before turning back to refuel. It doesn't say whether or not they stopped off in Devon for a house party, but I have my suspicions.

First off, I got a major scare earlier hearing about the fire at Universal studios and that 40,000 to 50,000 master reels had been destroyed in the blaze. Luckily they're saying that all of the masters they had there have been copied so nothing has been lost forever, but for about an hour I was seriously bummed out about it. But it kinda sucks quite badly that the Back to the Future, To Kill a Mockingbird and King Kong sets have been damaged. That picture of the fire though looks like something out of a film, doesn't it?

Is it lame I got worried about that?

Ehm, and in other news, I keep buying DVDs that I have no time to watch. But then as I said to my Nan the other day, nobody buys DVDs to watch anymore, they buy them to say that they have lots of iconic films in their movie collection so they can look cool.


And also if somebody could punch me in the head I would probably quite enjoy that right now. My head is buzzing again.

Good news!: I'm back to my old depressed and dysthymic self. Yippee. And all of that missed sleep that didn't affect me before has come down on me like a lorry. Carrying bricks. Being driven by Michael Moore.

I saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Lost Skull today. It wasn't as good as the Last Penultimate Crusade, but there are extremely few films that ever will be. *mourns Sean Connery* And before any people are like 'OMGSEANCONNERYISDEAD?*HANGSSELF*' as I know I would be, he's not dead in real life. Just in Indiana Jones. But still, I am very disappointed with everybody who made the film for allowing that to happen.

Also, if you guys were expecting some face-melting (as I was - can't have an Indiana Jones film without some face-melting!), Cate Blanchett gets owned. And Shia LaBoeuf tries to do the whole symbolic thing at the end of the film by picking up Indy's hat and trying to put it on. So Indiana promptly jacks the hat from his hand and puts it on his own head. That's right, bitch. Try and come back for a spin-off now.

Now, I'm a freak and I enjoy watching the credits of films. Why, I hear you ask? Because I like trying to find funny names in the credits. I know, it's cruel. But I feel that otherwise, nobody would read the names of the people who put time and effort into making that film, who feel proud at having their name on the credits. The least I can do for them is read the credits; even if I don't remember their names at least I'll have read them. And in return, they provide me with mild humour. The best name in the credits I ever saw was when I went to see Mr Bean's Holiday: 'Christian Blood'. I don't think I will ever see something that good in my life again. But the disclaimer at the end of Goblet of Fire ('No dragons have been harmed in the making of this film') comes pretty close. A couple of humourous names that I read today included the surname 'Labiana' and 'Yurih Fuks'. Childish, I know. Sometimes I wonder if film-makers put in weird names to reward the people who read the credits. I'm not a bully, honestly.

I did two perfect three point turns and a perfect reverse around a corner today, according to my driving instructor. If I'm so perfect give me a license already!  *look of daggers*

In other news, somebody beat me on ebay. I was trying to buy a copy of the Fountain for £2... the winning bid was £2.01. *facepalm* I'm so lame I can't even win on ebay.

And finally. Rock Band (Xbox 360) is, at long last released tomorrow here in the UK. But because in work we're so freaking awesome like that, we set it up on the shop floor today to let everybody have a go. Which all of the staff did, meaning that none of the customers got to have a go. When I finished at the record shop I went and played it some more, then I had to go have lunch before my afternoon shift at the menswear shop of doom. But I came back for more after lunch. It goes on sale tomorrow. It wouldn't even fit in my attic room. But then again, who needs savings? I mean, I don't really need an Aygo... or food...

I read something the other day about online security, about how to keep your identity safe. It had all of the usual 'change your password regularly', 'look for https at the start of the website address to show that it's secure when entering details', 'change your security settings so that only people you know have your email address', 'don't tell people when you're on holiday',  things like that.

And towards the bottom of the article, it said to never tell anybody what your mother's maiden name is, or your birthday. I don't have a problem with the maiden name part (I don't even use that as my security question, but I still wouldn't shout about what it is), but apparently banks and things use your date of birth to confirm things.

But the thing is, I want people to see when my borthday is. I like the feeling I get when people are happy for me ^_^ is that too much to ask?

In case anybody was wondering, it's the 20th December. And I have a wishlist on hmv if you would like me to email it to you xP


Besides, anybody impersonating me may know my date of birth, but if they come under scrutiny they'll never pass. They won't know my favourite flavour of jam.