My landlords are so cool. We spent all of four minutes going over the appartment, then sat and talked of what I'd learned and where I'd been, what they'd seen of Canada when they did a whirlwhind tour in 1976, how I'll always be welcome to crash at their place if I ever pass by Paris again.
We surfed the internet and I showed them how to set up webmail, perused the pictures of Mr. Pyke's house to assure them that I will indeed be comfortable out there, and they ooh-ed and aah-ed approvingly and said they hoped he'd be good to me or they'd come down in person to give him a good old Italian what-for.
There were tears and bises and great bouquets of compliments sent back and forth, and now they're gone and I've got almost exactly twenty four hours left here.
Colette will be here in an hour, in town for the day on the way elsewhere, then we're off to watch far too many movies at Montparnasse since the next three days are the three-euro-a-movie festival.
Last night was a dinner fit for Pashas in the indian restaurant downstairs, where I learned that the significance of having my nose pierced on the right side means that my heart is promised to someone.
Funny, that I got it pierced when I was most alone in the universe.
Perhaps now, it will finally stop getting caught in things, though. ;)
Last night Isabelle and a local friend of hers, Michel, stopped by for dinner and we talked and laughed of a thousand things, and she loaned mer her palmpilot so that I could use it as an alarm clock, announcing that it was the first time she'd ever trusted anyone with it.
I appreciate that gesture far more than Michel's incessent flirting, even after he'd announced that he had a wife and child and only hangs out with french Canadian women for the pleasure of the company.
I have so little else to say, I am trapped between realities. THe noises and scents from my cour are wonderful as always, the breeze through the window just right.
It still feels like any other quiet Sunday morning in Paris, save for the fact that the phone keeps ringing.
I will spend today doing what I almost never do, sequestered in front of a screen filled with moving pictures, at least two movies in a row if not three, and I will allow my brain to wander off into the flat plotlines and simple thrill of action flicks and not think.
Not too much, at least.