We have been moving our stuff to the new flat this whole weekend and it looks like we're pretty much ready to give the keys of our old appartement away. I'm not going to miss it, it was always ment to be just a temporary place while we search for a bigger one. There are some really good memories from here though; our friends came to visit and we drank our asses off, I once almost fell down from the window and realized that I almost died only the next morning; sex, drugs, rock n roll, cigarettes, sunsets, dawns, twilights, hangovers, highs, musicmusicmusic, playing guitar, singing, tabledrumming, the old, scary lift that once almost died in between the floors with 5 people in it (the limit is 2), the cute but annoying neighbor who plays french rap till 3am...
Yesterday we decided to get to know our neighborhood so we took a camera and cigarettes and started wandering around in the 13th arrondissement. We found the center of the Chinatown of Paris 2 streets down from us and spent the afternoon in an asian supermarket buying knives, ashtrays, kettles, soap and other stuff we need in our new appartement.
Me, at the moment, I'm terribly stressed. I'm only extra in the restaurant I work in and I work only when they need an extra pair of hands and it starts to look like I'm not getting those precious work calls nearly enough. So I need to find a new job, soon. That is the number 1 of my problems. Number 2 is J. I hadn't seen him in almost a month and today he sent me a text and a mail just like nothing had happend. Well, technically nothing DID happen, we just stopped seeing each other since it looked like he was having little bit too much fun with a female friend of his. I do know where to stop if you don't want to get hurt: it's easier to learn not to care the earlier you give up.
Anyhow, he invited me to a camping trip in a forest next weekend. We're going to sleep in tents and all, and eventhough I said well why not, it sounds like fun, I'm a little terrified. You see, the thing that I hate and fear the most in this whole wide world is bugs. I don't care if it's just a tiny mosquito or a huge 12-legged flying crossbreed of a maggot, cockroach and a wasp, I'm going to scream anyway. Also, camping? Really? Me? Although I used to live in the countryside I can't remember a single time I would've slept in a tent in a forest voluntarily. Then again, we're probably going to have fun smoking weed and drinking wine.
He also said he would like to take me on a ride with his motorbike since we never got to do it when we were seeing each other regulalry. I said, I'll see when I have some free time, I'll let you know.
I should ask if S wants to join in, the camping trip I mean, then I would feel so much safer since the first night in our flat we found a huge snail sitting on our sink and she just shrugged her shoulders and took it out while I was screaming and panicattacking in the opposite side of the room.
Is everything going to be fine?
..god only knows.
Monday, 19 July 2010
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
No.8
Three nights ago I had a dream about what happens when you die.
You appear in a massive marble dome hall with lots of purple doors on the wall. The light is soft and it's coming from above you. There is a dark, smoky spot in the middle of the hall, it is a kind of a portal from which you come to that place. You have 2 options: you can stay in the dome hall for a while, or for a longer while, or then you can choose a door and go inside. But I got a feeling that at some point you have to pick a door, you can't stay in there forever.
In the dream I had a friend with me and I wanted to know if we could go together from the same door or not. I asked a warden or a guardian but all they did was shrug their shoulders and say "whatever you feel like doing."
Unfortunatelly I woke up before I could see what is behind those doors. Maybe it's a way to your next life, maybe it's heaven or hell or whatever you believe in, maybe it's just vacuity where you finally lose your consciousness. I don't know, but I'm trying to have that dream again soon and find out.
Well actually, after dreaming that 30 second long prophecy I woke up, it was around midnight, and since then I haven't slept almost at all. I get insomniac phases like this at least 4 times a year, so it's nothing unusual but this is probably the worst time to spend my nights laying on my bed, eyes wide open, listening to the nightly noices of S right next to me and the rumble of traffic outside the window.
Jardin des Tuileries has turned into an amusement park. There is a ferris wheel, a rollercoaster, a bouncy castle and other things that I couldn't see too well. It was still open at 1.30am when I walked past it on my way back to home from work. It was actually kind of beautiful, though usually I'm not a fan of huge illuminated machines with children screaming and couples kissing all around them.
It's 7.30am and I haven't slept a wink. I'm waiting for a Tabac to open so I can buy cigarettes. The sun is rising; no clouds in the sky and the light makes the Hôtel Concorde La Fayette look almost agreable. It's funny how late Paris wakes up, there're hardly any sounds coming from outside at the moment.
I heard alcoholism can cause insomnia.
Oh this decadence is killing me!
You appear in a massive marble dome hall with lots of purple doors on the wall. The light is soft and it's coming from above you. There is a dark, smoky spot in the middle of the hall, it is a kind of a portal from which you come to that place. You have 2 options: you can stay in the dome hall for a while, or for a longer while, or then you can choose a door and go inside. But I got a feeling that at some point you have to pick a door, you can't stay in there forever.
In the dream I had a friend with me and I wanted to know if we could go together from the same door or not. I asked a warden or a guardian but all they did was shrug their shoulders and say "whatever you feel like doing."
Unfortunatelly I woke up before I could see what is behind those doors. Maybe it's a way to your next life, maybe it's heaven or hell or whatever you believe in, maybe it's just vacuity where you finally lose your consciousness. I don't know, but I'm trying to have that dream again soon and find out.
Well actually, after dreaming that 30 second long prophecy I woke up, it was around midnight, and since then I haven't slept almost at all. I get insomniac phases like this at least 4 times a year, so it's nothing unusual but this is probably the worst time to spend my nights laying on my bed, eyes wide open, listening to the nightly noices of S right next to me and the rumble of traffic outside the window.
Jardin des Tuileries has turned into an amusement park. There is a ferris wheel, a rollercoaster, a bouncy castle and other things that I couldn't see too well. It was still open at 1.30am when I walked past it on my way back to home from work. It was actually kind of beautiful, though usually I'm not a fan of huge illuminated machines with children screaming and couples kissing all around them.
It's 7.30am and I haven't slept a wink. I'm waiting for a Tabac to open so I can buy cigarettes. The sun is rising; no clouds in the sky and the light makes the Hôtel Concorde La Fayette look almost agreable. It's funny how late Paris wakes up, there're hardly any sounds coming from outside at the moment.
I heard alcoholism can cause insomnia.
Oh this decadence is killing me!
Friday, 9 July 2010
No.7
We finally found an appartement!
Last week we called a man who had a free flat in the 13th arrondissement and made an appointment for Thursday afternoon. It was I who was supposed to go since S had to work and she told me that if the place was even almost livable I should get it right away. We had to hurry because if we hadn't found a flat by the end of July we'd have to go back home. We were really pessimistic since we had been looking for a flat since end of May and there had always been something between us and the appartments. So I went there already preparing myself to meet my family and old friends in the far away country of mine but the place was very, very nice and apparently there was no one else really interested in it so the same afternoon we started to fill in the papers.
It's on a beautiful and calm street with lots of little cafés and brasseries. We have a boulangerie and grocery store right next to us. And the place itself, it's beautiful, very spacy for being just 880e/month. There is a little bedroom, a sunlit kitchen with a skylight window, a spacy livingroom and a neat bathroom. I'm really excited about it, we're going to make it very pretty. S still hasn't seen it but I'm sure she'll like it as much as I do.
Last Friday we went out and met a very nice libanese guy who was very fond of S. He invited the both of us at his place that was right next to the bar we were in. He had an amazing balcon on the roof of the 7 floor building and you could see far, far away under the stars. The sky was dark blue and yellowish from all the light pollution but the view was breathtaking. I could see Panthéon, Tour Montparnasse and all the little buildings far away. I felt so good up there, sitting on top of the world, smoking weed, listening to David Bowie's Low and talking about pretty much everything. I felt like flying. When S and the guy started to get a little bit closer and closer and closer I decided it was time I left and let them do what ever they felt like doing. Anyway, it was a magical place.
Sometimes I get a little homesick, which is strange since I don't really have a home. I lived in the countryside till I was 18 years old and my parents got divorced. After that we moved to the nearest city where I lived for 3 months before I came to Paris, so it never felt like home. The homesickness I get is in fact just longing to the countryside. All the cold winters in the middle of snow and depression, all the beautiful springs with wind and sunshine and moods going up up up, all the warm summers bicycling to the nearest bus stop so I could get in to the city and drink with my friends, and finally, all the lovely, colourful, darkening autumns with moods going down down down.
But Paris is still better than being stuck in the country, the nearest bus stop 7km away and hardly anyone the same age as you.
Last Sunday, for the first time in my life, I went to Musée de Louvre. I'm a little bit ashamed since I have been living here for almost a year now and I never went there. I wanted to see the egyptian section since I have been interested in ancient Egypt since I was 11 years old and it was amazing how good I felt there, surrounded by the pictures and statues that I had only seen in books before. It really was like going home, suddenly remembering all the dynasties and pfaraohs and gods and inventions. I used to be so into all that stuff I could spend hours and hours just reading my gigantic book about ancient Egypt, studying the book of the dead, learning about the agriculture and hunting, copying hieroglyphs and learning every god and his/hers specialities by heart. When I came out from the museum I was happier than in a long time; I had a job, I had an appartement, I had friends and I had seen the egyptian section of the Louvre!
It's going to be fine.
I'm almost sure about that.
Last week we called a man who had a free flat in the 13th arrondissement and made an appointment for Thursday afternoon. It was I who was supposed to go since S had to work and she told me that if the place was even almost livable I should get it right away. We had to hurry because if we hadn't found a flat by the end of July we'd have to go back home. We were really pessimistic since we had been looking for a flat since end of May and there had always been something between us and the appartments. So I went there already preparing myself to meet my family and old friends in the far away country of mine but the place was very, very nice and apparently there was no one else really interested in it so the same afternoon we started to fill in the papers.
It's on a beautiful and calm street with lots of little cafés and brasseries. We have a boulangerie and grocery store right next to us. And the place itself, it's beautiful, very spacy for being just 880e/month. There is a little bedroom, a sunlit kitchen with a skylight window, a spacy livingroom and a neat bathroom. I'm really excited about it, we're going to make it very pretty. S still hasn't seen it but I'm sure she'll like it as much as I do.
*
Last Friday we went out and met a very nice libanese guy who was very fond of S. He invited the both of us at his place that was right next to the bar we were in. He had an amazing balcon on the roof of the 7 floor building and you could see far, far away under the stars. The sky was dark blue and yellowish from all the light pollution but the view was breathtaking. I could see Panthéon, Tour Montparnasse and all the little buildings far away. I felt so good up there, sitting on top of the world, smoking weed, listening to David Bowie's Low and talking about pretty much everything. I felt like flying. When S and the guy started to get a little bit closer and closer and closer I decided it was time I left and let them do what ever they felt like doing. Anyway, it was a magical place.
*
Sometimes I get a little homesick, which is strange since I don't really have a home. I lived in the countryside till I was 18 years old and my parents got divorced. After that we moved to the nearest city where I lived for 3 months before I came to Paris, so it never felt like home. The homesickness I get is in fact just longing to the countryside. All the cold winters in the middle of snow and depression, all the beautiful springs with wind and sunshine and moods going up up up, all the warm summers bicycling to the nearest bus stop so I could get in to the city and drink with my friends, and finally, all the lovely, colourful, darkening autumns with moods going down down down.
But Paris is still better than being stuck in the country, the nearest bus stop 7km away and hardly anyone the same age as you.
*
Last Sunday, for the first time in my life, I went to Musée de Louvre. I'm a little bit ashamed since I have been living here for almost a year now and I never went there. I wanted to see the egyptian section since I have been interested in ancient Egypt since I was 11 years old and it was amazing how good I felt there, surrounded by the pictures and statues that I had only seen in books before. It really was like going home, suddenly remembering all the dynasties and pfaraohs and gods and inventions. I used to be so into all that stuff I could spend hours and hours just reading my gigantic book about ancient Egypt, studying the book of the dead, learning about the agriculture and hunting, copying hieroglyphs and learning every god and his/hers specialities by heart. When I came out from the museum I was happier than in a long time; I had a job, I had an appartement, I had friends and I had seen the egyptian section of the Louvre!
It's going to be fine.
I'm almost sure about that.
Sunday, 4 July 2010
No.6
Friday night we went to the bar where DJ plays. He was very happy to see me, he told me many times how he had missed me. We ended up at our place with him, his friend, and S, of course. Drunk some gin, listened to some music, did some talking and some kissing and some teasing and they left around 11 am. I slept till 6pm and that was one of the worst days of my life in Paris. I had absolutely no money, I had to borrow 1,70e from S so I could buy a metro ticket to get to work at 7pm (I don't have money to recharge my metro card), I was very disoriented and had a slight hangover which caused many embarrassing mishaps and me acting very ghost-likely at work.
S said I have lost weight. It's probably true since I have no money to buy food. In fact, at the moment I have only pasta and butter in the cupboard. I also work like crazy in the restaurant, just running around and sweating my ass off 6 hours straight every night and then walking 30 minutes to get home in the middle of the night as the metros are shut and I always seem to miss the night busses. But since I have a history of a slight eating disorder that I never really got over with it only makes me happy if I lose a couple of kilos.
Then again, I have bruises everywhere, the skin in my index and middle fingers is peeling off thanks to the vinegar I have to use at work to clean the cutlery, there are white spots all over my nails, I heard it is probably caused by vitamin or mineral deficiency. My muscles are sore and I can't remember the last time I took a shower since S's bathroom is terribly bad and shared with the other tenant of this floor and anyway, why bother, it's so hot that I'll be just as sweaty in 5 minutes. I smoke too much and drink bad, bad wine or vodka or gin or tequila or martinis or some god awful drink mix or what ever I can get.
But hey, at least my toilet paper is perfumed!
Yesterday we decided to do something about all this crap and we went to the Eiffel tower parc to play some guitar and sing for money. Well that didn't work out too well since S is the one with the guitar and she was too ashamed to play, so instead we just sat on the grass, smoked our precious cigarettes and lulled in our self-pity. Then we met a guy from Bangladesh and he bought us a bottle of champagne and offered to buy us some pizza. He was nice, but kind of creepy with his small glasses and big teeth so we said thank you for the champange but no thank you for the pizza, it's very nice of you, but seriously, we need to be getting back home, no it's fine, you don't need to escort us to our front door, no, we don't have boyfriends but... well ok you can have my number but we have to go now, yeah sure call me tomorrow, à bientôt, ciaooo.
It's going to be fine.
I guess.
S said I have lost weight. It's probably true since I have no money to buy food. In fact, at the moment I have only pasta and butter in the cupboard. I also work like crazy in the restaurant, just running around and sweating my ass off 6 hours straight every night and then walking 30 minutes to get home in the middle of the night as the metros are shut and I always seem to miss the night busses. But since I have a history of a slight eating disorder that I never really got over with it only makes me happy if I lose a couple of kilos.
Then again, I have bruises everywhere, the skin in my index and middle fingers is peeling off thanks to the vinegar I have to use at work to clean the cutlery, there are white spots all over my nails, I heard it is probably caused by vitamin or mineral deficiency. My muscles are sore and I can't remember the last time I took a shower since S's bathroom is terribly bad and shared with the other tenant of this floor and anyway, why bother, it's so hot that I'll be just as sweaty in 5 minutes. I smoke too much and drink bad, bad wine or vodka or gin or tequila or martinis or some god awful drink mix or what ever I can get.
But hey, at least my toilet paper is perfumed!
Yesterday we decided to do something about all this crap and we went to the Eiffel tower parc to play some guitar and sing for money. Well that didn't work out too well since S is the one with the guitar and she was too ashamed to play, so instead we just sat on the grass, smoked our precious cigarettes and lulled in our self-pity. Then we met a guy from Bangladesh and he bought us a bottle of champagne and offered to buy us some pizza. He was nice, but kind of creepy with his small glasses and big teeth so we said thank you for the champange but no thank you for the pizza, it's very nice of you, but seriously, we need to be getting back home, no it's fine, you don't need to escort us to our front door, no, we don't have boyfriends but... well ok you can have my number but we have to go now, yeah sure call me tomorrow, à bientôt, ciaooo.
They say ev'ry man needs protection,
They say ev'ry man must fall.
Yet I swear I see my reflection
Some place so high above this wall.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.
They say ev'ry man must fall.
Yet I swear I see my reflection
Some place so high above this wall.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.
It's going to be fine.
I guess.
Thursday, 1 July 2010
No.5
Oh these hot, stale days in our tiny flat. Me and S, we're both incredibly unhappy and tired. The Velvet Underground&Nico - It Was A Pleasure Then is the song for these sunny but oh-so-sinister days. If my insides could sing, that is the song they'd be humming. I bought a bottle of gin and coke and I have to go to work in a couple of hours but oh, who cares, a shot or two doesn't make a difference. Sober-ophobic indeed.
This doesn't make any sense. At this moment I am so fed up with France but I'm even more fed up with my home country, so in a way I'm stuck. It would be so easy to go back at home but it would be like giving up. And there I'd have all the same problems facing me; a job, a flat, a somebody to love. Maybe I should just switch a country, maybe I should move to London! I always wanted to go there. But then again, here liquor is so much cheaper I might as well stay. How is it possible that just a month ago I was happier than ever, smoking weed, listening to happy sunny afternoon-music, drinking every once in a while and now, NOW, I'm just as miserable as always listening to the discorded music of The VU trying to numb my feelings, training myself not to care. Not to care about what?
Well, I've always been a pessimist and I've never been in love with anyone, I was even kind of proud of it. "Look at me, I'm a cold hearted bitch, a Femme Fatale, you can't trick me in this 21st century drug, Love." I never was in love with J, but I had a crush on him, I admit. And even after two dreams where he was leaving me or was just plain indifferent I kept on hoping, why not, maybe this time it'll work. But oh no. I am ashamed that I've let something like this affect me. You have to understand, I have a certain image I show to my friends and people I meet. That is, you can always day dream as long as you know that in the end nothing's going to happen and it is just self-torture. That I'm tough and indifferent. Music is my only love and that is enough.
Last night I came home at 2.20 and I crawled next to S tired and every muscle and joint in my body hurting. I fell asleep at 5.30 when the sky had already turned a little bit white. I listened to S who was talking and spluttering in her dream and I wanted to kick her out of bed. I tried to make a little nest on the floor from her yoga-matt, some blankets and some cardigans, but it was just too uncomfortable. I wish we find a new flat quickly, I can't keep on sleeping in the same tiny bed with her.
Happier things, I finally took some very tame nude pictures to J2, he was very happy but wanted more, naughtier once s'il te plaît . I said, maybe next time haha! I wonder what would happen if I went back home and saw him again.. He does have a girlfriend though, but oh my morals are so low and I guess his too, so anything could happen. I'm not really interested in him though, he really is just a friend. Or rather, an internet fuckbuddy hihi.
I'm off to fix myself another gin-coke drink.
I can always go back to my old fuckbuddy, the 34-year-old DJ.
When all the Sunday people
Where so quiet in the dark
Afraid to be better the next day
Where so quiet in the dark
Afraid to be better the next day
This doesn't make any sense. At this moment I am so fed up with France but I'm even more fed up with my home country, so in a way I'm stuck. It would be so easy to go back at home but it would be like giving up. And there I'd have all the same problems facing me; a job, a flat, a somebody to love. Maybe I should just switch a country, maybe I should move to London! I always wanted to go there. But then again, here liquor is so much cheaper I might as well stay. How is it possible that just a month ago I was happier than ever, smoking weed, listening to happy sunny afternoon-music, drinking every once in a while and now, NOW, I'm just as miserable as always listening to the discorded music of The VU trying to numb my feelings, training myself not to care. Not to care about what?
Well, I've always been a pessimist and I've never been in love with anyone, I was even kind of proud of it. "Look at me, I'm a cold hearted bitch, a Femme Fatale, you can't trick me in this 21st century drug, Love." I never was in love with J, but I had a crush on him, I admit. And even after two dreams where he was leaving me or was just plain indifferent I kept on hoping, why not, maybe this time it'll work. But oh no. I am ashamed that I've let something like this affect me. You have to understand, I have a certain image I show to my friends and people I meet. That is, you can always day dream as long as you know that in the end nothing's going to happen and it is just self-torture. That I'm tough and indifferent. Music is my only love and that is enough.
Last night I came home at 2.20 and I crawled next to S tired and every muscle and joint in my body hurting. I fell asleep at 5.30 when the sky had already turned a little bit white. I listened to S who was talking and spluttering in her dream and I wanted to kick her out of bed. I tried to make a little nest on the floor from her yoga-matt, some blankets and some cardigans, but it was just too uncomfortable. I wish we find a new flat quickly, I can't keep on sleeping in the same tiny bed with her.
Happier things, I finally took some very tame nude pictures to J2, he was very happy but wanted more, naughtier once s'il te plaît . I said, maybe next time haha! I wonder what would happen if I went back home and saw him again.. He does have a girlfriend though, but oh my morals are so low and I guess his too, so anything could happen. I'm not really interested in him though, he really is just a friend. Or rather, an internet fuckbuddy hihi.
I'm off to fix myself another gin-coke drink.
I can always go back to my old fuckbuddy, the 34-year-old DJ.
Monday, 28 June 2010
No.4
But I'm sick of spending these lonely nights
training myself not to care.
God how I love Interpol these days, especially the song "NYC" where the citation above is from. I'm alone at home, drinking the rest of the Gin from last night with coke and I just can't get myself together. I woke up this morning feeling tired and sore everywhere after last nights little party with J and his friends. Somehow I ended up with "HELP" written on my arm after a hard, violent struggle with the boys and un œuf cassé all over my dress. J obviously didn't want me to stay over so I left with S and a feeling that it is pretty much over. But I'm training myself not to care and it gives me satisfaction, a feeling of control. Anyways, B is coming to Paris in August and I'm sure I could have lots more fun with him if I don't have a special someone.
S started working for Starbucks today, I hope she'll like it. Her boyfriend left her on saturday night and she's kind of broken. Today is a start of a whole new life for her. We didn't get the appartement from the 5th but we have a showing tonight in the 18th, that's Montmartre. It's really too hot to move, but what can you do.
I shoul stop drinking alone. And smoking inside.
I had a dream about a storm, it was so windy that all the leaves from trees went swirling around at it rained almost horizontaly and I was back in the countryside where I was born and raised. Cops had to took everyone home one by one because it would've been too dangerous to let us go by ourselves. Dark blue, dark green, gray, black, a sinister shade of orange.
I'm oddly happy, calm. Everything is not in it's right place, not by far, but I somehow like the feeling of unperfection, I like to wallow in self-pity, haha! Well, some lipstick and sunglasses and I'm off to find us a place to live. Wish us luck, Disco Duck!
S started working for Starbucks today, I hope she'll like it. Her boyfriend left her on saturday night and she's kind of broken. Today is a start of a whole new life for her. We didn't get the appartement from the 5th but we have a showing tonight in the 18th, that's Montmartre. It's really too hot to move, but what can you do.
I shoul stop drinking alone. And smoking inside.
I had a dream about a storm, it was so windy that all the leaves from trees went swirling around at it rained almost horizontaly and I was back in the countryside where I was born and raised. Cops had to took everyone home one by one because it would've been too dangerous to let us go by ourselves. Dark blue, dark green, gray, black, a sinister shade of orange.
I'm oddly happy, calm. Everything is not in it's right place, not by far, but I somehow like the feeling of unperfection, I like to wallow in self-pity, haha! Well, some lipstick and sunglasses and I'm off to find us a place to live. Wish us luck, Disco Duck!
Friday, 25 June 2010
No.3
There are too many lights here in the night time.
A couple of nights ago I was walking home having just survived a completely full N11-bus with smelly hobos pressing themselves next to me and sluring some random anecdotes. I stumbled across Champs-Élysées to my home street and suddenly I noticed that in one of the back-alleys there were no lights. It was all dark, just a little shade of light coming around the corner. I wanted to snuggle up against the wall and just stay there, in the dark. Of course I didn't but it made me realize that there are too many lights in Paris.
Last night was amazing. I got out of work at 1 o'clock and since it was Friday the metro was still open and I didn't have to take the night bus. I was at home around 1.20 and S was still awake. She opened the door wearing only a red satin morning gown and said: "Hey sexy, wanna have some wine?" Then she pulled a bottle behind her back and I said: "jesus christ how I love you sometimes!" So we started drinkingdrinkingdrinking listening to 70's Disco Hits and Tubular Bells (yes it is a weird combination but it works surprisingly well!) when suddenly J sent me a message. He said he was in Paris and might I want to see him and oh his battery is almost dead. I said why not, come over but of course his battery failed so he didn't get my message so me and S finished the bottle, had a cigarette and went to sleep. We've become so good friends that she actually is like a sister to me, in good and in bad. We quarrel and sometimes get a little violent with each other but at the same time I've never laughed so hard with anyone else.
Well, I'm off to work. I have a 4h lunch shift and then in the evening a 6h dinner shift and then, finally, my weekend begins. Before I got this job I used to party practically every night with S and I guess we never spent our Fridays and Saturdays sober (or Thursdays.. I remember a few sober Wednesdays. And Tuesdays. I don't remember anything about our Mondays or Sundays so I suppose I wasn't drinking? I won't bet on that, though.). But now I'm lucky if I can have a few glasses of wine on Sunday afternoon and that's about it.
Paris made me an alcoholic. Or rather a sober-ophobic.
A couple of nights ago I was walking home having just survived a completely full N11-bus with smelly hobos pressing themselves next to me and sluring some random anecdotes. I stumbled across Champs-Élysées to my home street and suddenly I noticed that in one of the back-alleys there were no lights. It was all dark, just a little shade of light coming around the corner. I wanted to snuggle up against the wall and just stay there, in the dark. Of course I didn't but it made me realize that there are too many lights in Paris.
Last night was amazing. I got out of work at 1 o'clock and since it was Friday the metro was still open and I didn't have to take the night bus. I was at home around 1.20 and S was still awake. She opened the door wearing only a red satin morning gown and said: "Hey sexy, wanna have some wine?" Then she pulled a bottle behind her back and I said: "jesus christ how I love you sometimes!" So we started drinkingdrinkingdrinking listening to 70's Disco Hits and Tubular Bells (yes it is a weird combination but it works surprisingly well!) when suddenly J sent me a message. He said he was in Paris and might I want to see him and oh his battery is almost dead. I said why not, come over but of course his battery failed so he didn't get my message so me and S finished the bottle, had a cigarette and went to sleep. We've become so good friends that she actually is like a sister to me, in good and in bad. We quarrel and sometimes get a little violent with each other but at the same time I've never laughed so hard with anyone else.
Well, I'm off to work. I have a 4h lunch shift and then in the evening a 6h dinner shift and then, finally, my weekend begins. Before I got this job I used to party practically every night with S and I guess we never spent our Fridays and Saturdays sober (or Thursdays.. I remember a few sober Wednesdays. And Tuesdays. I don't remember anything about our Mondays or Sundays so I suppose I wasn't drinking? I won't bet on that, though.). But now I'm lucky if I can have a few glasses of wine on Sunday afternoon and that's about it.
Paris made me an alcoholic. Or rather a sober-ophobic.
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