Well, I am personally (well, partially) responsible for 600 instances of brain-suckage in the near future.
Seb took time off work to help me lug a few duffel bags to the cargo company, and in return I helped him out laying fiberoptic cable and connecting it to the NOOS router for the 11�me to make up for the lost time.
I am covered in dust, my nose is leaking black booger, my terribly ugly french manicure is now creatively chipped, and I had the time of my life.
It would appear that I have a natural talent with a wire-cutter, although stripping copper wire for the cable router is much like stripping wires to make RJ-45 cables for all the LANs I've ever gotten tangled in.
In fact, Seb's job is very much like the lab we set up at Gemplus in so many aspects, from the twist-tie organizers to the way we loop extra cable and attach it to the back of the steel racks.
All the way through, we sang songs about hearses and moldy corpses that look like spinach.
We stopped for coffee, and my brain finally woke up from last night's wine and risotto fest.
Two little girls in white nighties, giggling from a bottle of wine and the alternating laughter and sobs echoing off the walls of my silent cour at three in the morning, when sudden hunger pangs drove us to make rice salad.
I made some more for lunch today, so that I'd remember how. One more quick-and-dirty recipe added to my repertoire.
I had a harder time the second time 'round, despite the sobriety, due to a very short sleep given over in favour of high-bandwidth sharing of the contents of our spirits, and the continued clenching of my gut at last night's antics.
We may or may not have perform balance-beam gymnastics on the bar in my kitchen.
In addition to that, it would appear that no woman who sleeps with me is safe.
Princess got attacked by the wall of my hallway (guffaw), Colette was seriously injured by a flying vibrator (chortle), and Cristal nearly choked on puke after a particularly serious laugh-and-hiccup attack.
See, she crawls into my bed, very drunk and very happy, and starts rolling herself up in my comforter, exclaiming "Monstre! Your comforter is SOOOOO HUUUUUUUGE!!! I can roll up in it completely!"
"Why are you laughing, monstre? That's not nice..."
After a few breaths I managed to choke out that the reason she found the comforter so spacious was because she'd pulled it entirely off me.
That garnered some guffawing while she attempted to extricate herself from the tangle of bedding.
"Why are you still laughing, monstre?"
"Well, darling, because this is the first time I've had a scantily clad girl in my bed exclaim HOW HUUUUUUGE my thing was! Well, except for this one time with my tongue-ring... But it's really not that big a tonguering."
Enter raucous laughter, then hiccups, then fifteen minutes later, painful unending hiccups.
We eventually calmed down and slept a handful of hours.
I dreamed of forests that I've walked a thousand times before and yet have never truly found.
This afternoon, stepping into the bright sunlight with my cargo, we crossed paths with Gita again, who chattered good-naturedly about abandonment.
She had a word or two to pass on to Mr. Pyke, all of them rather colourful.
THey might be able to use my big gold couch for the back of the restaurant. That would be too wonderful, my couch adorning a place that still speaks of home to me.
That conversation was when I fell in love with the biggest pair of shiny brown eyes I've ever seen.
Mr. Pyke, you're going to have to vye for space in my heart with this guy.
S'okay, though, he's three months old and his awkward attempts at stroking my hair and dribbling on my shoulder are probably no match for your talents, but damn did he ever hit a soft spot with his face-swallowing laugh.
And he gave me the BIGGEST kiss ever. Right on the nose.
Add that to the smile of one of yesterday's browsing barracudas who effectively cleared out my appartment save for one pot, a few knives, and my bed, a young law student in town for her internship, feeling all lost and confused in Paris...
She batted yet another set of big brown eyes at me and I ended up sending her home with my spice-rack, candles, incense, all the stuff I saw her eyes rest upon and knew I wasn't taking with me.
She was all abashed until it finally sunk in that it was doing me a huge favour to see a pile of random stuff make someone so happy.
I am now living sans alarm clock. Somehow I find this thrilling.
Aside from that, I can't remember much else, but it feels full. Tonight we're crawling out to the open-air theatres to watch The Matrix on an inflatable screen, tomorrow we're going to some cabaret with Maja and Sophie's visiting quebecois friend.
My kitchen is scarce and my heart is light and three am salad-making was surprisingly camping-like in spirit.
My heart is filled with bright, glowing things right now.
And I am sending very very many of them, to Andy so she can continue lending her light and strength to her family.