Good morning, Tuesday.
I am very happy to wake up to you this morning.
Yesterday's list of sudden panics is passed into just-take-care-of-it mode, S�b generously offering to check out the radiator and save me the price of an electrician's consultation, taxes a complicated thing to file back in Canada from here, all the right cousins telephoned in the right order to thank them for this or that and gratefully accept invitations for Passover dinners.
Dinner last night was lovely, a spanish gout� at the house of a spanish doctor friend of the kebekois, she'd promised us food and company if we fixed her laptop.
Five computer geeks, a Normande travel agent and Daniel's girlfriend in town for a couple of weeks, and the ambiance was merry.
When the charming Chantal made a very explicit hand gesture to try to explain a certain penis-related concept to Mila, our hostess, I was surprised at my surprise.
Surprised that I have gotten so accustomed to the prudishness of the parisian conversation, surprised at how good it felt to learn this or that new toast, drown in the lilting backwoods Quebecois accents so sweetly contrasted with my parisian whine.
And little Pierre with his piercing-photography obsession took a few photos, I'll be posting them as soon as I have his permission.
And this afternoon, a preliminary interview for smartcard work at a cable company, Solaris environment, low-down technical toys.
This thrills me, despite the confusion as to which blouse looks more proper with my pinstripes.
Good morning, Tuesday, I am very happy to greet you.