So, while people seem bent on concerning themselves with everything I do and my mother’s reverted to High Martyrdom, Kelly’s in Dublin on business. We met at a hotel near the airport to have sex before he left. Well, also to kiss and take a shower together and stuuuuuff. Cos it’s fun to have sex in hotels.
Anyway, I gave him a flash drive with music. Cos that’s what he does. He makes me playlists and this was the first time I’d made one for him, and I sort of worried about whether he’d think I was sappy or in luuuv or whatever (WHATEVER), and I thought that maybe I shouldn’t give it to him because now that I listened to it on the drive over, I think maybe it’s cheesy and awful and weird.
It is cheesy, but I give it anyway. It’s a sweet thing to do. As many sweet and goofy gestures as Kelly has done, I am put to shame, and nothing I do with a stupid iTunes mix is going to trump his collection of stunts.
I have never seen High Fidelity (and no, Kelly’s never stood outside my house with a portable stereo), but I think that mix tapes (cds, thumb drives, whatEVER) should tell a story, or at least make sense to somebody, and not just be some random collection of songs that somebody happens to like. So here’s our story, I guess.
I give you a selection from this music I gave this person who has had five sexual relationships in his life and who calls me from his seat while they’re telling people to turn off their portable electronics just to say thanks for the music, SugarPop, I had no idea you liked the Ramones.
First up: Fluorescent Adolescent by The Arctic Monkeys
You used to get it in your fishnets
Now you only get it in your night dress
Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness
Landed in a very common crisis
Everything’s in order in a black hole
Nothing seems as pretty as the past though
That Bloody Mary’s lacking in Tabasco
Remember when he used to be a rascal?