#2 Victoria's Secret

Before Christmas, my girlfriend talked me into watching the Victoria Secret fashion show and I had one of those alchemical sulphur reactions that the alchemists used to try to avoid at all costs or they'd have to start the opus over again. I even thought the models were blowing kisses at me, Tim Conger, as I sat in my chair (horribile escritu!). A lot of the time I'm following the thread of a participation mystique  just because I want my life to be less boring. Anyway, I knew I was being a travesty as a man but I made up my mind I was going to buy my girlfriend a "Love Pink" shirt from Victoria's Secret. But I felt it was shameful because although I knew I had good taste and was demonstrating it, the poverty I could see all around me as represented by the Occupy movements made me feel like I had to really go slow on buying vessels of corporate "free enterprise" for Christmas. Also, my own familly has always encouraged me to buy a little bit, or a lot, less for myself and those close to me than I want to, because I was born with strong spiritual leanings and shouldn't get sucked into lusting after everything physical all the time. And I had to look at my own motives for buying my girlfriend such gorgeous fool's gold stuff. But what I discovered when I searched my soul is I just wanted to live in the imaginary world created by all those designers and by Nikki Minaj's performance and her wonderful insulting song and the models and Maroon 5 and everyone looked so happy...In short, I was bit. I was in love with a store. I'm getting better. See entry #3