Tomorrow I get up at the tightest crack of dawn to travel half across the city for the dubious honour of being smeared in vaseline and home repair goop. His idea is to pose me in such a way that he may construct a facsimile of my form entwined with another of myself. Should be delightful. My favourite quote from the website advises me to bring my own music, otherwise, he is told, listening to his choices are the most painful aspect of the proceedings. Thanks be to T.V. On the Radio. My only worry is that I’m pretty certain I’m going to lose some curly hair.
reminder to self: no underwear tomorrow. underwear = pantylines, but bring some in a bag.
It’s three a.m. I should sleep now. Enough waiting up for Matthew. My sympathy chocolate is all gone.
Wait, damn – this makes me a model.
*fist to sky etc*