You Could Make A Play On That
France was French, and I continue to struggle in an angst ridden way about the desperately unsure nature of my future. We ate cheese and I fretted a bit: the others ate shark but I just rubbed its skin to get that sandpaper-feel - I didn't eat it (although I admit it is the ultimate revenge). I did help cook it: I am sure I achieved karma points (karma! ha!) in my roasting of the evil one's flesh.
The little village we stayed in had gone to sleep. I wanted to inject it with stimulants so they'd open a goddamn restaurant or a cinema or something. Not that we were bored. We talked, a lot, and played cards, and got a bit drunk on cheap wine. I didn't sleep well - the mornings were so dark and so hot, and my bed was funny, with two mattresses, but it was good and I would go back. The locals were sweet and let me bumble along in pigeon French, and while waiting for takeaway pizzas one night, me and friend Gavin were given complimentary wine while the other (French) customers looked on, mildly disgruntled. Presuming their thoughts were in English, I can only assume they were thinking "Hey! How come that foreign muck gets wine and we get nothing?"
I am sure that under their handsome leader they desired to kick my brains in, but they resisted, thank goodness. I arrived home safe and sound with K to a house filled with normal beds and a complete lack of garlic sausage.
Work is...work. It gives me a cheque.
I wrote a long letter to ex-housemate teragram but have not yet posted it. This is one of the stupid things I do. Teragram, it will come. I promise.
SAD THING
All my life, I have had a similar route to get home. I have moved further and further west in my different houses, but always have had to pass a particular bridge from the city centre. Since I was a young girl, there has been a plaque on this bridge where a young man fell (?) off and died. Every day, and I mean every single day, that I have passed it, there have been fresh flowers there.
Tonight, on the way home from the cinema, I saw that there were no flowers, and now I am worried that the person who has faithfully been placing flowers there every day for years and years has died. K says maybe they're on holiday...but I just don't think so. There were no traces of flowers whatever, not even two week-old remnants of a pre-vacation visit.
This makes me sad.
I am cold, and I am also tired. I know this is not much of a journal entry and I apologise, especially to faithful reader OG. I promise I will buck up and get some comedy gold out here just as soon as time and inspiration permits. I am still recovering from a weekend in Kilkenny with K and Stig. We drank so much tequila I went blind! No, that's a lie: it was a Christian conference but I was too ashamed to say.
I will return.
neuro-praxis -- Watering the Sockets
Which bridge had the flowers?
Posted by: Janovich at November 9, 2005 10:30 AMI thought that journal entry was just dandy. Just Dandy.
Ah, Christian conferences and tequila, they're inseperable. No doubt it led to some corny Christian ice breaker drinking games, like the one where you pass a bible down a line of people using your lips.
Having recently met K at a certain Christian event, I thought it topical and fitting to drop you a line and say hello. Whilst this would, arguably, be better done via email, that would entail a) knowing what your email is and b) thinking of more to say. So, hello to K and apologies for not being able to remain talking to you longer - an angry man in a mercedes was waiting outside. However, this is neuro's website and not K's so I must say hello 2 Neuro also. I must say, you were rather hard on the shark young Neuro. The poor thing probably did no harm to anyone it's whole life (a fruitarian I imagine) and all it gets as reward is a good roasting. Yet on reflection the shark WAS French, so it probably smoked and would have died a horrible lung (or gill) related death so perhaps you did it a favour.
Posted by: OG at November 16, 2005 02:07 PMHaha, Neuro got spammed!
Look at the spam!
Look at Neuro!
Look at the spam again!
See how she has been spammed!
Hah...
...ah...
Posted by: Mr. Angry at November 17, 2005 06:05 PMI am regularly spammed. That's why I shut off the comments option on my blog entries after a few weeks.
I have not been online to delete the spammy offerings recently, thassall.
Posted by: neuro-praxis at November 21, 2005 02:19 PMI deleted about 150 spam messages from the Antidisinformation blogs there two days ago. If you find any more examples of spam, give me a shout and I'll see what I can do.
Posted by: David Barrett at November 21, 2005 03:18 PM