unwritten
I went shopping at Target again today. There's something soothing about shopping at a relaxing, quiet department store without hoards of harried mothers with three kids screaming at the top of their lungs that they want more candy (don't give them anymore sugar you goddamn idiot) . Or shopping at a store where the products, despite being half the price of Target's, is of dubious quality. Here's looking at you Wal-Mart.
Anyway, I wandered around the store a bit looking at the Transformer toys and contemplating buying one to make up for my pathetic lack of Transformer toys during my childhood. I do this everytime I go to Target but I have yet to find one that I truly like.
Then I wandered into the book department hoping to find a good Terry Pratchett book I don't own yet but sadly, Target's book department is about three aisle of contemporary fiction targetted at old retirees or young trophy wives. However, I did find some good books that promised to be good reading but decided that I didn't really want to read about the life story of a gay man growing up. It was quite surreal, out of the three aisle there, one of them were children's books, another one was popular trash novels like Grisham, Archer, and the sopping lot of them, and the last one was rather bohemian writing of authors such as Marian Keyes and other womenly novels. I quick glance confirmed that about 80% of that shelf was written by women. I picked up a book written by one of the men (David something or another) and a quick read confirmed that the author was gay. Now this is simply an observation but I can't help but think that perhaps Target is not the best place to go for good books.
Finally as I was about to leave, I found myself passing the CD section -- and for some inexplicable reason, I walked out of the store carrying Natasha Bedingfield's Unwritten and a box of tissue paper.
This post has absolutely no point to it. I walked into a store. I bought a CD. I walked out. And I wasted my time writing a post about it. And now you have wasted your time reading it. Sucker.
Anyway, I wandered around the store a bit looking at the Transformer toys and contemplating buying one to make up for my pathetic lack of Transformer toys during my childhood. I do this everytime I go to Target but I have yet to find one that I truly like.
Then I wandered into the book department hoping to find a good Terry Pratchett book I don't own yet but sadly, Target's book department is about three aisle of contemporary fiction targetted at old retirees or young trophy wives. However, I did find some good books that promised to be good reading but decided that I didn't really want to read about the life story of a gay man growing up. It was quite surreal, out of the three aisle there, one of them were children's books, another one was popular trash novels like Grisham, Archer, and the sopping lot of them, and the last one was rather bohemian writing of authors such as Marian Keyes and other womenly novels. I quick glance confirmed that about 80% of that shelf was written by women. I picked up a book written by one of the men (David something or another) and a quick read confirmed that the author was gay. Now this is simply an observation but I can't help but think that perhaps Target is not the best place to go for good books.
Finally as I was about to leave, I found myself passing the CD section -- and for some inexplicable reason, I walked out of the store carrying Natasha Bedingfield's Unwritten and a box of tissue paper.
This post has absolutely no point to it. I walked into a store. I bought a CD. I walked out. And I wasted my time writing a post about it. And now you have wasted your time reading it. Sucker.
2 Comments:
Well, why did you get it if you don't wanna use it?
By JukeBox, at 9:12 PM
you want my number? it's 734 546 2759. don't forget there's like 3-4 hour difference =).
email add weibing[at]umich.edu.
By JukeBox, at 12:34 AM
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