You know the days when you look so good you just wish to goodness you could do yourself? Yesterday was one of those days. We all need them - we need more of them. And then to share them with someone we like so much it feels like we ARE doing ourselves.
Cue Grieg's Morning Mood.
Then cue the Marseillaise. Yeah, this is the country I'm thinking of moving back to. You know, it's like Rhett Butler said; there's money to be made in the building of an empire, and money to be made in its decline. . . j'exagerre. France has always had a sulky-misfit-teenager-and-hedonistic-baby-boomer-father relationship between populace and government. And it's always been France - always will be. Plus ca change, et cetera. We all have our stupid national nonsenses. For example, in Canada we have a socialist tax burden and shitty public services. And we tolerate lunar winters.
Lady is barricaded in her hospital room like Natasha Henstridge in the Species movies. They don't fool around with that radioactive shit. Miss B is off ballroom dancing, I think. J*Fish is on the mend, and the Brunswick House is in Good Working Order. Mr. N gave me a copy of Dusty in Memphis. Still going through massive quantity of music FEB gave me. Despite being at the 'happy' week in my hormonal cycle I'm very prone to temper these days still - extremely. Not my standard passive-aggro stewing, either. But flashes of profanity and violence, quickly replaced by cat-like readiness. It's fine.
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