Very early this morning, stricken with a horrible stomachache and the associated foodpoisoninglike symptons, I discovered it is entirely possible to vomit into the bathtub whilst still remaining seated on the toilet. Mmmm, lovely.
This evening I watched the final of Roswell. I’m such a sucker for “final ever” episodes – I think I even watched the final of Home Improvement despite the fact that I had never ever seen it before. I used to watch Roswell back a million years ago, but that was mostly only because Thomas did and it was nice to watch it together. I’m sure it used to be much better, and that they all had better haircuts. Either that or I was younger and foolisher. Nevermind.
Because I have to present a half hour seminar on Wednesday, I spent this evening writing out linear notes to a compilation album entitled “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before” which doesn’t exist, although its tracklisting does. The album spans from age thirteen to age twenty one. 4/14 songs are by the Smashing Pumpkins. 4/14 are sung by females, and they’re all in the second half. 5/14 songs are related to boys that I’ve actually scored. 1/14 songs got quoted in two seperate letters to two seperate boys – one an “I love you” email, the other “I think we should break up”. I currently have 7/14 songs on cd. Clayton has 2/14 songs on cd. I have 3/14 songs on mp3, and I will have to download the other two if I ever actually make this cd. I could have started it from when I was twelve, but that would have meant including Guns’n Roses. If I do make it, I’ll be photocopying the bizzare linear notes as well. They include quotes from Barbara Kruger paintings and many dialogue snippets and occasional references to stalkings. If I produce it, it’ll be strictly limited edition, with copies going to closet friends, people who I’ve received mixes from before and also possibly any of the boys it’s dedicated to (oh yeah, the ‘love’ bit is just a loose concept, not a “I love you totally and utterly” thing, obviously) that I’m still in contact with who can correctly identify themselves. Bopha has been my little helper in the compiling of it all, agreeing with me that maybe I should make a seperate trauma album (although one trauma song made it on here, because it was a love trauma after all) and placing strict limits on the numbers of songs I could have per boy. Bopha kicks ass, although her fetish for green rice tea is somewhat disturbing.
And I’ll write my seminar tomorrow, really!
Someone drew a picture of me receiving deep dictionary action for me tonight. You can view it here. It’s splitmango, so that’s why I’m linking to it rather than showing it – viewer discretion is advised and all. Golly I have some strange (and wonderful) friends.