There’s more than one type of ooooh, you know.
Friday’s ooohs were of the dirty perverted kind when you realise that you want to do things to Harry Potter that shouldn’t even be expressed since he’s supposed to be 13 in that particular movie. We’ll say no more about that. To make myself sound better, there were also ooohs as I realised why things became important, and I shut up with the laughing at innuendos long enough to talk like a stupid person in the movie ie: “oh of course!” and “look out behind you!” type things.
There’s the ‘ooooooooooh’ when you sit down on the bench outside your soon to be ex flat, after you’ve done six trips carrying drawers, and a couple more trips carrying boxes down your steep Victorian staircase.
There’s the ‘ooooh’ noise when you’re folded into the back seat of your parents’ van because your boxes and chest of drawers are taking up the rest of the room and your sister is on the front seat and the heat is making you feel sick, and there’s the ‘oooh’ of relief when you get to unfold yourself and sit in the front seat cos you’ve dropped your sister in Tawa, ha ha.
There’s the oooh your tummy makes when you’re struggling to hold in laughter when your mother complains about her mother, and the oooh of disappointment when you realise that the cookies your grandmother is offering you are stale. There’s the oooh when you breathe out after holding your breath through her stale smelling rooms, and the oooh of relief that you have all your boxes stacked in the room off her garage now and as soon as you have made with the social niceties you can leave.
There’s the oooh when you dip your toes into the water at Paraparaumu Beach and realise that it’s not that cold, and the oooh that you want to whistle at yourself when you take off half your clothes and run in to go swimming. There’s the oooh of cold when you finally duck your head under and realise that it’s much colder that way, and the oooh as your muscles unwind in the waves. Somewhere in the spluttering from the water going up your nose there’s an oooh or two as well.
There’s the oooh when you see the newborn second child of your sister’s best friend and he’s gorgeous, and it’s just weird to see her all married with kids when it seems like only yesterday she was buying you vodka and taking you to gigs as a surrogate when your sister was on her OE.
Later there’s ooohs of little lightbulbs lighting up over your head when the plot of Firefly twists and turns and characters pash.
There was the oooh of muscles cramping as you stay in bed for four hours, polishing off what was essentially a Jackie Collins novel in a Literary Type looking cover. You can’t even remember what the book was called, but it was great – in a Jackie Collins type way, of course.
There was the oooh that goes along with websurfing and coming to a page that jsut makes a person look like such a fucking tosshead that you can’t believe that they ever meant anything to you.
There was the oooh of tastebuds being tantalised in Bejing, and the ooh of frustration at not being able to pick up, fill, roll and eat duck pancakes all in one swift move with chopsticks. Then there was the ooh of a full belly, and the oooh when Clementine first started talking in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and you realised taht you were in love with her, and in love with the movie. There was the oooh when you worked out who Elijah looked like in that movie, and the oooh when you realised it was all coming around in a circle and that was yay. Then there was the oooh of delight in putting in an old video tape that your parents told you had The Lost Boys on it, and the oooh of discontent when the start wasn’t on it, and then the delight again every time Corey Feldman entered the frame. And then there were many ooohs of just amazement at commercials from 1994, and the ooh at the how loudly you were laughing at the episode of The Young Ones on the end of the tape. And now there is the Oooh of You Must Go To Bed, and anticipate the oooh of the release you’ll get thinking about Corey*. And the oooh of the pain in your wrists.
Tomorrow will be the oooh of the man, I am so over hunching over my laptop, and the oooh I just discovered more interesting facts about the band I am profiling, and then eventually the oooh, finally I am done. And that will be exciting. I mean, oooh, I get to go into a whole new POV tomorrow and all!