Last night was a gin and tonic night. I had a couple watching television and then a couple more at Boysroom. In between the ones downed in my living room and the ones downed at the bar, I stopped at Niki's store where she gave me a shirt to wear, a shirt with her face on it. The color scheme is pink and black on white and it totally looks like something that might have come from H & M two years ago, but that is also why it is awesome, how trendy it kind of looks. The fact that we were wearing matching t-shirts also added to the humor.

I just downloaded five songs and I don't know why because they have made me talk with all these insecure qualifiers, why I just said "how trendy it kind of looks," and not something else and the wind has picked up. It is brushing against my windows loudly, so I could blame the weather also, but I really wanted to hear these songs and now I have and now I don't feel so hot. I thought these songs would prick something, make me happy, but they have killed something, pricked a general numbness that I had managed to keep in regression for a good few years now. The songs:

Oasis - Wonderwall
Oasis - Champange Supernova
Spacehog - In the Meantime
Garbage - Stupid Girl
Garbage - Queer

And they all make me sad for different reasons that singular as they are, are not too distinct from each other, they all have the roots in the same time period, the same place.

There have been spring showers this week, quick and sunny afterward, and walking around in that afterward is one of the joys this life has, the smell of wet sidewalks and trees in bloom. I fucking love it.

In a few hours, I will miss The O.C. because I will be uptown pissing and getting a blowjob from this guy who is basically paying all my bills. This will be my third time seeing him since last Thursday. That is 450 in one week from the same person. Plus he has been getting me stoned and playing nontypical sex music choices. First time, Dylan. Second time, Bach. I am wondering what, if anything, he will play today.