5day
I went to sleep far too late and woke up even further early last night. Common practice in the past, however this time a little burning flame in the back of the head felt certain and sharp all day through.
I made a list of things to be done, one of the countless lists I make this days just to get the simple pleasure of crossing out with a flat blue-ink marker the business completed and flat yellow-ink one the ones undone. At midday I left home.
In the middle of my round we mat with Aurore and went to the exhibition of photographs of China at the beginning of the 20th century where she gladly afforded herself to purchase two pieces of history. Aurore is gong to open a school in South America and I will not wander finding myself in a couple of years looking into the deep questioning eyes of a girl on the first photograph bought, hanging on a wooden wall of a school in a little Brazilian village. There had been too many changes - impossible and unpredictable - in too short time for me to wander.
There was wonderful French jazz playing in the cafe, Aurore started to go through her memories and my spring came all of a sudden all over again... I guess I might need a bit of France this year.
I came back after six, with a sharp metal pain going through both legs, heavy pulsing headache and the blue-inked list, as a symbol of victory.
I try to avoid generalization of any kind, but in most cases when man comes back tired he finds the shortest way to the coach and spends the evening resting in front of TV. Women however, makes herself a cup of bitter double-shot coffee, fixes the make-up, climbs on her high-hills and goes. Goes wherever she has to or has opportunity to go. Tiredness is not a proper excuse.
To tell the trues, yesterday I seriously thought about joining the men-club, but Mias' Birthday party was already on the list and I couldn't allow any yellow ink there.
No regrets - I had a truly enjoyable time. After few hours somebody of about 25 or so guests noticed that there is nobody British over here! It explains a lot... There were people from Germany (where Mia comes from), France, Spain, Poland, Colombia... and people from the places I have never heard about! We were drinking wine - for me it went like a children game:
red-white-red-white-red
and talking. There is always something to talk about with international students.
I met a guy who said my face looks familiar (I didn't recognize him at all) and he remembered that back in September he was explaining me how to get to IKEA... How long time ago it seems to happen... He was German and he was telling me all this amazing stories of how he went to Russia - has been to Москва и Питер и жил целый месяц в Новгороде и был в Волгограде, Саратове, Астрахини, Чебаксарах... встретить нечто подобное среди местного населения is practically impossible.
Kris - Polish guy I know from Photo Society - kindly offered to drive me home and on half way I noticed something being strange... It came to me slowly and went through all my body before I finally manage to form it into words: "Kris" I said "we are not in Poland. You are driving on the wrong side of the road".