How My Friends View Me
Or not me.
Chris sends me a link to this video today, with instructions to watch the Chicago section at 2:25:
I’ve watched the girl in the center like a hundred times now. That’s fucking got to be you.
Chris’ filthy mouth aside, he’s almost right. The girl, standing a little bit in front of the crowd making an ostentatious fool of herself ought to be me.
But it’s not.
An edited version of our conversation says more about how my friends view me (and how I view myself) than just about anything else:
Me: That’s not me - though I grant that her spastic movements might lead you to think that.
Chris: It’s a combination of things. The glasses and hair are reminiscent of yours, as is the “I’m being funny right now” facial expression. And the black tank top/cropped pants combo seems like a plausible outfit for you. I feel like if you were to replace whoever that is, the difference in grainy internet footage would be pretty much indistinguishable.
Me: Yeah, it’s really the mouth-open facial gesture during the ’sexy bit’ that makes it seem like me. If she’s from Chicago maybe it’s just something they taught us in public school.
Between this and the girl from Iowa, I’m not as unique and precious a flower as I’ve always assumed.
Though I am disappointed that Chris thinks I would wear those shoes.
(Btw: To Matt, the creator of the film - why such short shrift to Melbourne? We get half a second of Fed Square at 0:56 and that’s it!)
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