SEX & DYING IN HIGH SOCIETY

So, I don't actually have mono. When the blood tests came back, they told me that I've already had mono. (How did that happen? They asked me if I could think of a period of a few weeks or months when I had been unusually fatigued or subdued. Like, ha, I'm in college and that's my life!) So, it's not mono. But it's still the kind of thing that can make your tonsils huge, so I'm on even more antibiotics.

Unfortunately, when I thought I did have mono, I had a little moment of doubt regarding my "lifestyle choices." (I assure you I try to spend as little time contemplating these things as possible, but it was impossible this time.) I was certain that I got mono as a punishment for being such a grungy, trashy girl. You know. I'm the kind of girl who's too glamorous to bathe frequently, or do laundry frequently, or even empty the ashtry beside my bed frequently. Or pick the trashy magazines up off of the bathroom floor regularly. Or eat regularly. As long as I get out the door with my liquid liner and sunglasses, I call it a good day. But believe me, you don't want to see my underwear drawer.

Of course, there's something appealing about all of this fast living. Dead roses, getting up at noon, not giving a shit, stains on your t-shirt, smeared makeup. Or so they told me. I thought I could ride that particular rail for the rest of my life, but I don't think my classmates are going in that direction. They're getting expensive haircuts and putting their resumes on heavy paper. When did this happen? Patti Smith was still wearing dirty t-shirts when I saw her last summer, and she was pretty awesome.

In other news, I still love Exene Cervenka.