“You come the evening on the 28th, i’m planning on asking one of my loving friends to take me to pick you up from the airport, then maybe just go straight out, more or less. Unless you’re tired. I mean we can stay in if you’d like to. The 29th we’ll do fun stuff - make my mum love you - hopefull get in a really cold, wet, stormy walk along the beach with scarves and hats and gloves and cold noses, then out that night. The 30th, we’ll get up and do something. I’m not sure what. Something that leaves us in portsmouth. Afternoon, 3ish?, or maybe evening time, we’ll get on the bus from portsmouth harbour and go up to london, pop into KFC or somewhere equally wonderful (you’re going to learn to hate me) on the way so that you can hand her a bucket as a ‘nice to meet you’ present and she’ll love you forever (the girl’s like me, she likes to eat) and then we can sit and feast and talk, then sleep at the flat, the the morning of the 31st we’ll go vintage shop a little, topshop if there’s time (i beg you) and the tate because it’s great and i haven’t been since summer, and then that night all the rest of my friends (by this point kind of your friends, too) will arrive and we’ll go and party, i think trafalgar square for midnight so we can check some fireworks, then back to the flat or someone elses in london, i have a couple of friends who live there, for a party. Stay wherever, hopefully misli and steve’s. Then we’ll get the coach back the next day, unless we can scav a lift, we’ll eat fast food again because that and water is all you’re allowed to eat with a hangover on new years day, chill out at mine for a couple of hours, and then drop you to southampton for your flight in the evening.
And then you’ll come back to paris and shrivel up and hibernate, and recover in time for my birthday on the 9th. which i asked to have off…”
and so it’s settled. headed with the brit to the UK for the new year. london on the actual night, and her hometown of portsmouth for the rest of it. i’m stupidly excited, of course. she had wanted to ask me for a bit, but claimed she couldn’t gather up the confidence.
maisie has a friend from home visiting this week - tom, a who seems to be a great guy - and we saw the grafitti exhibit at the cartier foundation today. last night, us three and another friend hung around her cute little apartment in the 7th and decided, after chocolate pudding cups and a little corsican wine (corsica…), that we’d march over to the eiffel tower just for fun.
we got home late and headed to bed, and maisie valiantly offered to share the floor with me. i skipped my french class this morning for literally no other reason than how nice it felt to be cuddled up with her, even if my ribs are still sore from it. we just laid there, and i could’ve died from so simple a pleasure. i don’t think life offers many better things than pretty girls who make you coffee when you’ve run out into a drizzly paris afternoon, armed with some shoddy french, to get a pain au chocolat or two.
you know what? fuck it. i’ll share.
any girl who’s up late at night writing cute things like this - even peripherally involving me - is top notch. it’s beautiful reassurance by the PR department of the all-powerful ’Female Gender’ conglomorate. i’d thought that my staying up late and pouring out my heart made me a sucker. i further realize that it does, but when you see the other team doing it, it makes it a little more okay.
alright, so i’ve withdrawn a few updates over the past few days. one was a few hundred words that described in considerable detail what’s been going on in le coeur de moi. the next i abandoned after feeling unsure of myself and what was going on. i probably should have sucked it up and wrote.
yet i suppose i’ll provide some form of an update. well, i can say the i’ve been seeing maisie - otherwise referred to as ‘the brit’ - for a little while now. it’d been a bit more elusive before, with my thoughts wavering between “we’re solid” and “i have no fucking idea.” i love-hate that feeling, though mostly hate it. i admitted that to her conversationally a little ways back, and she let on that she sort of likes it, that mystery. i think it’s a girl thing - my mind just gets so brutally carried away that any hint of stability is gold to me. i’m of the opinion that a little piece of mind won’t hurt the cutesy stage.
she’d been in the french countryside over the weekend with her host family. sent a text saturday night letting her know i admitted to our friend alice that we were an item. the day before, she posted a cute little blog entry that part of me wants to post here and part of me feels like an overindulgent weirdo.
all in all, i’m stupidly infatuated with this girl. i have nothing overly poetic or intellectual to say this time around. i just figured i’d forego the poetry and just try to be a normal person for once. no long stories, nothing fancy. ah.
i’ll write in the next day or two. sorry!
french classes started this week. found out that i have a work visa, and my ‘return ticket’ isn’t exactly real, but it’s slated for next october, aka never. i feel happy and sane. and me and the brit have properly hit it off. still confused but also sort of ecstatic. more stories once i get my head clear.
coffee and lunch with the brit. arm-in-arm walking that, to me, sort of embodies this great friendship that’s if but slightly complicated with the tensions of something else. not trying to gush or sound serious; it’s just sort of funny. after work, we met friends and saw a few bands trade off songs at quaint little spot. intense canadiens ensued, and a gorgeous walk home with my favorite band and city that’s got a nice little thing going for itself.
http://dusik-laine.tumblr.com/post/245457232/city-of-broken-bottles
just to note, i had envisioned this blog as an ‘as assorted things happen’ type of project, with no promise of regularity. i chronicle my everyday at my actual blog, dusik-laine.tumblr.com — this one’s just for the dirt. thought i’d mention before accusations of laziness arise.
cigar-in-hand, under the eiffel tower and playing with a cute little curly-haired girl. i can see the future.
