So on Thursday I get home and I find a small heart-shaped picture frame on top of the stove (stove off) which contains a picture of me and Scott – stolen from one of my drawers earlier in the week – and the frame also says It Must Be Love, which I suppose is a good ridiculous surprise and then Scott turns up and he’s brought me some fresh squid for Valentine’s, which we grill and eat.
Then we start watching TV and this programme is on where they determine how good looking people are by assessing the symmetry of their faces and the way to do that is to take a face picture of the victim and then create two more pictures, one showing the face with two left sides and one showing the face with two right sides. And if the two new pictures look like the original one, the face is symmetrical and the person is good looking. Or summat.
So they do that on the show and when one of the guys realizes that his face is not as symmetrical as he thought, he starts getting violently sick and I realize this is something that I need to do, secretly hoping that my face will be crooked to and my reaction will be as messed up as his.
So here are the pictures of Scott and me doing this same thing.
Scott’s normal face:
Scott’s face with two left sides:
On Friday at work I finally have some time to write something down so you can see my handwriting and what I write down is an excerpt from Bret Easton Ellis’ Lunar Park that I want read at my funeral, and the expert is this:
“So if you see my son, tell him I say hello, be good, that I’m thinking of him and that I know he’s watching me somewhere, and not to worry, that he can always find me here, whenever he wants, right here, my arms held out and waiting […] From those of us who are left behind: you will be remembered, you were the one I needed, I loved you in my dreams”
“Yes, even remembering in itself is sad, yet how much more its object”