All Shook Up

I've started using StatCounter, and it's amazing. It tells you virtually everything about your readers. Unfortunately, it also told me that someone got to my site by googling some dirty words which I will have the decency not to relate, and I got all shivery and grossed out. Even though it's only one person, and they live in Texas and have probably never met me or the person whose blogged name brought them here..

I look over my last few posts now and they just seem disturbing and perverse somehow.

Ugh.
Why do I get like this?
It's a Flaubert club-foot feeling.

I also read a horrible book called Freaky Green Eyes by Joyce Carol Oates about... I don't even want to get into it. She's very appraised and all, so I expected it to be good, but it was terrible and I just felt disturbed at the end.

All of this leaves me with the same feeling I used to get after reading bad sci-fi with overly sexualized characters. It was that feeling that made me stop exploring new sci-fi writers and stick to the classics. Once I'd exhausted them I decided to stop reading sci-fi all together. It's the feeling I got after Friday's shoot-out (you know what I'm talking about); it's the same feeling I got after seeing Frenzy and Psycho for the (respective) first times. The difference was that they were good enough that I got wrapped up in the psychology of it, and it all seemed plausible. I feel like I'm the brainchild of some giant sick perverse thing.

It may also have something to do with only having left the house for half an hour since Friday night and then only to go to school to pick up my English folder and running into Lizzie Dolan while I was going and eating nothing but pasta and bread and chocolate frosting all weekend.

And I hate finals, which seem as perverse as anything else right now.

I want Harry to be here.

Ugh...

Yeuch.