February 16, 2002, 2:36 a.m.

In which we list starboard

back & forth

Current Music: Abigail Grush, The boy next door: "you're just too true to be good, / and now I'm understanding whyyyyyyy-yyyyy-yyyyy".
Current Taste: Mouthwash. Earlier tonight, I had homemade hot cocoa with rum in and homemade whipped cream on, and that was pretty good. I realize, now that it's come into focus, that I haven't had enough to eat today. I made a nice big omelette for myself this morning, and caf� au lait. Later, I snacked on rice and miso soup. But that's only one and a half meals, not enough for a growing lad. Perhaps when I finish writing this I'll go raid the fridge. But I'll be tasting mouthwash again by the end of the night, so I'm not sure I can be bothered.
Current Crush: I'm not telling. So there.
Current Music: (well, I'm listening to MP3s, and they keep changing) Barcelona: Studio Hair Gel "It's true / I don't care at all / I don't mind your Studio Hair Gel / I don't mind the Howard Jones poster on your wall / I don't mind the people you don't know / I don't mind the crazy way you play your Casio."
Current WTF: The Magnetic Fields? Nonesuch? Hoist the flag, mateys.
Current projects: 'Nother concert, a noon concert at T*fts on the 28th, where I'll be reprising the cyclothymic Froberger and, gods willing, do a better job on the Constantijn Huygens arias. Finish that watercolor that's been panting for air in my desk for the better part of a week. Install OS X. Make some CD mixes to cook to. Make more homemade ravioli, enough to share, this time. Reorganize my life such that I am intellectually fulfilled, more physically attractive, and tremendously wealthy. Do laundry.
Current Lovely Day Off Memories: SLB and I walked down to the graveyard across the street from the house today. It was pretty interesting, especially the family from Philly, most of whom seemed to die in Switzerland. And then we walked across town to the Olde Burying Grounde (1738), where we did some whiz-bang art history on the stones there, especially the cool masonic one from the 1820s.
Current Paralepsis: The tongue thing. ED says it's mouth zits. Mouth zits?