There is a stun-gun pointed at my cerebellum and set to liquify at random intervals.
I am still drowning in this weekend, the images refuse to gel, the contents of my mind are a sequence of chaotic images and everytime I try to settle on one there is chaos, eruption and pain.
I wonder if my subconscious is trying to keep me from realizing something.
Reoccuring thoughts from this weekend involved "I think I am falling in love with this place", "I love that the notion of luxury in this country has nothing to do with cars or displays of wealth but with simple convenience"
Saturday night I had dinner with a Nobel Prize winner. He cracked jokes about the WTC. His hair was messy and he takes opera lessons at the conservatory and invited me to join him one evening after I move into the neighbourhood (he lives within spitting distance) to see if they have something that might suit me.
He is also my cousin. I don't know which fact has left me drowning more, that I met a nobel laureate (better than getting to spit on Brad Pitt any day), that we share blood and that perhaps after all these years of thinking that I'm shit I'm shit I'm shit just look at my family this week's tribulations are giving me hopes I shouldn't need, OR... Am I finally getting to meet him now that he can no longer influence my life?
It is too late for me to dream of following in his footsteps, I realized that only a short while ago.
So why this cruel need to have my face buried in it?
But againt these questions are strangely schizotypal, I think I will settle with "what a great honour it was".
Nobel. Nobel. Nobel, that word echoes in my head just slightly louder than all the other chaos of the weekend.
LOuder than the giggle of my prospective-landlord's granddaughters as they laughed and played with my curls, louder than the realization that the opulence of their palatial appartment didn't offend me, that the lack of ikea in the lush carpets and mahogany furniture elicited admiration not disgust from me.
Louder even, than the fact that after two months of dropping by every parfumerie dans le coin, I finally found the perfume I've been looking for.
It's called Boudoir. IF you want to know what a Monstre smells like, that's it.
Nobel.
I stopped by that bookshop and picked up nearly thirty science fictions books that have been out of print for decades. I finished one yesterday amid worrisome headaches and dizzy spells. I also promised to help them pick out a new computer... Anyone want to help with advice on Macs???
Nobel.
I had shrimp dumplings twice this weekend, from random dim-sum stalls all over the city. Even the chinese food is so much more to my liking here...
Nobel. Shit. I can't even handle les br�mes of what all of this should mean to me, so I am stopping wondering and throwing myself into work for now.
I will figure this one out slowly.
Either way they want to come to the housewarming.