It is the fifteenth anniversary of Exile In Guyville. What more, at this point, could we possibly say about Exile In Guyville? WRONG QUESTION, bitches! (Better question: Why on earth isn't Jezebel devoting a post to each song on Exile In Guyville? Answer: Why, what a capital idea! How did you go about becoming a blowjob queen, Anna?) Anyway, Liz (incidentally a Hillary supporter) was on NPR today talking about the album, and the interview — salient quote: "I had this crush on this guy in the scene…" — would have probably brought a tear my eye if Liz hadn't so effectively schooled me in the ways of repressing emotions. Fifteen years ago, see, I was a fourteen year old passenger in the carpool of Francis Chung whose most defensible CD was probably En Vogue's "Funky Divas." I was a virgin and a nerd who hadn't learned to pluck my eyebrows or roll my kilt correctly or swear off barrettes. Francis Chung was a dork too but he liked "alternative" music, and he, and that one line in "Fuck And Run" — Even when I was seventeen, fuck and run, fuck and run, even when I was twelve… — would become my "salvation" of a sort.
I was sheltered, but I was not an idiot. Not even in the Weekly World News did 12-year-olds have one-night stands; that was not what this was about; it was about original sin. Not everyone had it, but Liz did, I did. My crippling wholesomeness was an accident of circumstance. I was a foreign service kid, not someone genetically predisposed to such violent dorkdom; I stared out every day at the lunch table surrounded by Model UN and Wind Ensemble kids and knew there were things separating us. My destiny was to be a tomboyish slut who smoked lots of cigarettes and a "list" so long with dudes who flinched and averted their eyes and wrote checks they couldn't keep and had a lot of work to do that I couldn't remember the last name that pulled that crap and I actually allowed it to hurt.
And lo, it totally happened.
Francis Chung is now an art history professor I think. We keep meaning to get drinks and trade CDs. I'm afraid I wouldn't have anything new to give him.
And in other news, prodigious talent Leslie Jamison sent me a Facebook message admitting that she actually did write that awesome defense of saccharin mainly because it was easier than trying to compete with the superior CD collection of the dude she was trying to impress.