Thanks to stalking abilities a well known search engine, I have discovered that the boy who told me "If you take off your dress, I'll turn the [Francoise Hardy] record over" is a psychiatrist! Gah. And he has a column in a national newspaper, which I knew, though I have to laugh when he mentions "don't drink, don't smoke, eat well, exercise" in some how to stay healthy context since I met him when we were inebriated (yeah yeah, aren't they always), but more memorable was when he accidentally ashed on my face later that evening. Or morning. That is not a euphemism or anything. He was on top of me and smoking, and the cigarette ash fell onto my face. He was apologetic, and I laughed it off because the whole evening was utterly absurd.

(Then there was the "don't worry I won't interfere with your viriginity" comment that came later on, and boy was that crushing. He was a doctor! How could he think I was a virgin?)

(I wish I could still fit in that dress. I best stop eating cookies and Halloween candy and start planning out meals and measuring food.)

(Oh, summer 2001. What good times. It's really been downhill since, hasn't it?)