(no subject)
I’m sitting in Kate’s house, Luxembourg. It’s open plan, and stone and wood, and there is a cat (splodge) asleep in a bagel shape on a chair over in the corner. I am lounging in my pyjamas, and I presume that Kate is still asleep. Seeing that unless there is any motivation otherwise, she generally sleeps until 2pm, I’m trusting my instincts and pottering around having breakfast and feeling at home. Much like when Candy and I went to Paris, my French is only picking up as I’m about to leave the country, which is vastly irritating. If this had come into fruition on Tuesday instead, we wouldn’t have had that awkward interaction at the restaurant in which my repetition of ‘sorbet?’ to the waitress went uncomprehended for four repetitions until Kate’s dad clarified ‘Sorbet!’, after which the spindly heathen comprehended. I hate not being properly bilingual. It’s rubbish.
As usual on the continent, and as usual (weirdly) when my wisdom teeth come through, I’ve been able to clear my head a little and make some decisions about direction and people and things. I’m trying not to fret or be comparative. I’m trying to make plans. I miss how I felt during the summer when I was working and talking to people and generally stretching verbal muscles that have now only been used by a few people with whom I spend all of my time. As much as I criticise Jez etc for only being able to work with their clique of seven or whatever it is, my interactions mimic theirs if only on a less dramaturgical scale. I’m grateful for the time away from the city, although Kate’s calm always makes me feel a bit skittish in comparison. It is true about people in long temr relationships; they exude a settledness that can seemingly only come from knowing that you belong somewhere and that you always have someone. It’s that air of not really trying or having to try because there is a constant somewhere.
Splodge is now sitting on my lap nuzzling my breasts and generally being coquettish. What more could you want, really?
As usual on the continent, and as usual (weirdly) when my wisdom teeth come through, I’ve been able to clear my head a little and make some decisions about direction and people and things. I’m trying not to fret or be comparative. I’m trying to make plans. I miss how I felt during the summer when I was working and talking to people and generally stretching verbal muscles that have now only been used by a few people with whom I spend all of my time. As much as I criticise Jez etc for only being able to work with their clique of seven or whatever it is, my interactions mimic theirs if only on a less dramaturgical scale. I’m grateful for the time away from the city, although Kate’s calm always makes me feel a bit skittish in comparison. It is true about people in long temr relationships; they exude a settledness that can seemingly only come from knowing that you belong somewhere and that you always have someone. It’s that air of not really trying or having to try because there is a constant somewhere.
Splodge is now sitting on my lap nuzzling my breasts and generally being coquettish. What more could you want, really?