I met Lou and it was the weirdest meeting ever.
In first place, I never met Lou during working days, so of course it’s always shocking when you’re used to see someone wearing swimsuits, or summer nights drinking outfits, seeing them wearing tie and suit. Of course it’s not just about clothes: Lou was stressed out. It kind of washed away his twilight aura.
I guess the same thing might be true for me, though.
Also, I practically never see Lou unless we’re on vacation. And all of a sudden, he proposes to catch up.
So Lou’s big news for me is he quit his girlfriend.
My big news for him: KS is moving in (in July, btw).
I guess my vampire romance has bad timing.
Anyway, we had the weirdest time ever.
I was feeling so sick I had just popped two aspirins, and it was pretty warm outside, so I kept sweating like crazy. My ears felt plugged, and I could barely hear.
Plus, I’m not used to this stressed out version of Lou.
In the end, we chatted a bit drinking coke (him) and fresh orange juice (me), then I declined a lift and walked home, where I went straight to bed (at 4PM) and slept/read till 8AM this morning.
Man, I really need to get over this bronchitis.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
It just occurred me, I might be a train wreck
In one hour I’m seeing Lou.
I haven’t seen him in a couple of months, and I look like shit. Hell, I feel like shit.
The bronchitis survived (nourished on?) two cycles of antibiotics, and I’ve started the third which has not yet kicked in. I’m even running a slight temperature. On top, my allergies are driving me crazy.
I know, Lou is just a friend, but when you don’t see a friend very often, you’d still like to look at least nice, am I wrong? Oh, on top, I am up to 130lbs. Which, in a way that has nothing to do with Lou, makes me want to swear like a sailor.
I mean, what’s wrong with me? I have male friends I’d NEVER EVER even consider kissing (not even in drunken dementia), but I still want them to think I’m attractive. Hell, I even want Bro to think I’m attractive.
It’s like that, I’m a silly blonde girl!
Of course, I care about Lou’s opinion on my appearance more than Bro’s opinion. Because let’s face it, Lou is hot. He rocks the best 6 pack I’ve ever seen. Seriously, I don’t want him to hit on me, I want him as a friend. But possibly, as a friend who thinks I’m hot.
Which is not gonna happen today considering my eyes and my nose are pouring, my voice sounds weirder than ever, and generally speaking, I look like someone just punched me on the head.
Whatever.
I’m starting a new project on Monday, which most likely means I won’t take care of the project in Casablanca (sgrunt sgrunt), but at least this one will allow me to work from the office.
Well the good thing is I’m leaving the office at 3.30 to meet Lou, I’ll drink something with him (likely, fresh orange juice, given my condition), and by 5PM I’ll be home tucked in bed. Youppie!
I haven’t seen him in a couple of months, and I look like shit. Hell, I feel like shit.
The bronchitis survived (nourished on?) two cycles of antibiotics, and I’ve started the third which has not yet kicked in. I’m even running a slight temperature. On top, my allergies are driving me crazy.
I know, Lou is just a friend, but when you don’t see a friend very often, you’d still like to look at least nice, am I wrong? Oh, on top, I am up to 130lbs. Which, in a way that has nothing to do with Lou, makes me want to swear like a sailor.
I mean, what’s wrong with me? I have male friends I’d NEVER EVER even consider kissing (not even in drunken dementia), but I still want them to think I’m attractive. Hell, I even want Bro to think I’m attractive.
It’s like that, I’m a silly blonde girl!
Of course, I care about Lou’s opinion on my appearance more than Bro’s opinion. Because let’s face it, Lou is hot. He rocks the best 6 pack I’ve ever seen. Seriously, I don’t want him to hit on me, I want him as a friend. But possibly, as a friend who thinks I’m hot.
Which is not gonna happen today considering my eyes and my nose are pouring, my voice sounds weirder than ever, and generally speaking, I look like someone just punched me on the head.
Whatever.
I’m starting a new project on Monday, which most likely means I won’t take care of the project in Casablanca (sgrunt sgrunt), but at least this one will allow me to work from the office.
Well the good thing is I’m leaving the office at 3.30 to meet Lou, I’ll drink something with him (likely, fresh orange juice, given my condition), and by 5PM I’ll be home tucked in bed. Youppie!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
I came back and...
…it was frigging AMAZING!
4 days surrounded by nothing but peaks, snow, ice, a brilliant blue sky, the best looking mountains in Europe.
We could not ski the Haute Route for various reasons, but in the end it was so great we didn’t care!
We left on Wednesday morning, headed to a lake in Val d’Aosta and settled for the tour of the Matterhorn (le Cervin).
It was somehow a tough call, because both the Sponsor and I had (still have) bronchitis, and the peculiarity of the Matterhorn Tour is that every days is harder than the day before. Which, of course, makes it pretty rough after 4 days of skiing and climbing carrying a 12kg backpack (over 26 lbs).
On our first day, we had the best companion ever: a big, sweet dog climbed with us and then skied back to the hut (he belonged to people who work there): after a while we split, so I was climbing up on my own, and the dog kept my pace and never left me! Awwwwww! I even shared all my (little) food with him!
The second day was so and so because both the Sponsor and I were so sick, we could barely make it. But then on the third day, we had this super hard start, partly ski touring and partly ice-climbing, but then we were remunerated with this view:
4 days surrounded by nothing but peaks, snow, ice, a brilliant blue sky, the best looking mountains in Europe.
We could not ski the Haute Route for various reasons, but in the end it was so great we didn’t care!
We left on Wednesday morning, headed to a lake in Val d’Aosta and settled for the tour of the Matterhorn (le Cervin).
It was somehow a tough call, because both the Sponsor and I had (still have) bronchitis, and the peculiarity of the Matterhorn Tour is that every days is harder than the day before. Which, of course, makes it pretty rough after 4 days of skiing and climbing carrying a 12kg backpack (over 26 lbs).
On our first day, we had the best companion ever: a big, sweet dog climbed with us and then skied back to the hut (he belonged to people who work there): after a while we split, so I was climbing up on my own, and the dog kept my pace and never left me! Awwwwww! I even shared all my (little) food with him!
The second day was so and so because both the Sponsor and I were so sick, we could barely make it. But then on the third day, we had this super hard start, partly ski touring and partly ice-climbing, but then we were remunerated with this view:
Matterhorn (Cervin)
La Dent d'Herens
That night we stayed in Cervinia (Breuil), so we could finally take a shower and use decent toilets!
Since it was also the first time our phones got signal, I also found out something amazing:
KS got the job AND HE’S MOVING IN OVER SUMMER!!!!!!
But let’s go back to the Tour.
By the third night, I had bad blisters on my feet, and the cough wouldn’t leave me. I knew that the first part of the last day would be climbing this:
But I put together all my strengths, and gave all I could. And we did it!
When we finally got home, on Saturday night, I discovered my journey to Casablanca has been postponed to May, so now I am back to the city. KS is coming over for the weekend and he’ll spend here also Monday and Tuesday, and if we have enough time we’ll drive to Ikea to buy a drawer for when he moves in.
I still cannot stop coughing, but seriously, who cares?
Friday, April 09, 2010
So you thought this was a fairy tale
I feel like crying right now.
As most of you, my readers, know, I’ve been training VERY hard, over the last few months, with an objective: doing the Haute Route ski tour. From Chamonix to Zermatt and then to Saas Fee, from Mont Blanc to Cervin (Matterhorn) to Mont Rose, the best mountaineering ski tour of the world. Phisically challenging, I begged to obtain a week off from work, worked miracles to organize everything, trained until my legs would ache badly.
But that was great, you know? Because the Haute Route is always an amazing experience. Even more so because we had planned to do it together, the Sponsor, Bro and I, with a good friend of us who is also a guide.
Work almost fucked up everything, because just yesterday I found out on Sunday 18 I have to leave for 15 days to go to Morocco (and don't even try saying how cool that is because it's FUCKING UN-COOL. It will be 15 working days with no days off, in some stupid outskirt of Casablanca. I hate it already). I rearranged everything in order to be back from the Haute Route on Saturday 17 at latest.
Fighting with allergies that are really kicking me off, I spent the last couple days doing miracles at work in order to be able to leave tonight and be off next week. And the allergies, they’re bad. Yes, all the running helped with the Asthma, but my eyes are always so puffy and swollen, and of course I feel like I have the worst cold ever and have troubles sleeping. And I DON’T WANT to take cortisone this year, because it’s unhealthy, it gives me insomnia and makes me fat. But that doesn’t matter because a week in the snow will halp greatly you know? No allergies up there!
But then of course, today we realized the weather forecasts on that part of the Alps are so bad we cannot possibly leave before Wednesday, because it would be too fucking dangerous. And of course, since I have to be back by Sunday morning in any case, we won’t be able to ski the whole Haute Route.
Is this childish?
Maybe. But I really put so much effort into this, and I’m so tired, I can’t help feeling really sad.
Take me back,
to the rivers of believe,
my friend:
I'll look inside my heart
I'll look inside my soul
I promise you I will return.
(...)
we'll rest our knees, on my rivers of belief
As most of you, my readers, know, I’ve been training VERY hard, over the last few months, with an objective: doing the Haute Route ski tour. From Chamonix to Zermatt and then to Saas Fee, from Mont Blanc to Cervin (Matterhorn) to Mont Rose, the best mountaineering ski tour of the world. Phisically challenging, I begged to obtain a week off from work, worked miracles to organize everything, trained until my legs would ache badly.
But that was great, you know? Because the Haute Route is always an amazing experience. Even more so because we had planned to do it together, the Sponsor, Bro and I, with a good friend of us who is also a guide.
Work almost fucked up everything, because just yesterday I found out on Sunday 18 I have to leave for 15 days to go to Morocco (and don't even try saying how cool that is because it's FUCKING UN-COOL. It will be 15 working days with no days off, in some stupid outskirt of Casablanca. I hate it already). I rearranged everything in order to be back from the Haute Route on Saturday 17 at latest.
Fighting with allergies that are really kicking me off, I spent the last couple days doing miracles at work in order to be able to leave tonight and be off next week. And the allergies, they’re bad. Yes, all the running helped with the Asthma, but my eyes are always so puffy and swollen, and of course I feel like I have the worst cold ever and have troubles sleeping. And I DON’T WANT to take cortisone this year, because it’s unhealthy, it gives me insomnia and makes me fat. But that doesn’t matter because a week in the snow will halp greatly you know? No allergies up there!
But then of course, today we realized the weather forecasts on that part of the Alps are so bad we cannot possibly leave before Wednesday, because it would be too fucking dangerous. And of course, since I have to be back by Sunday morning in any case, we won’t be able to ski the whole Haute Route.
Is this childish?
Maybe. But I really put so much effort into this, and I’m so tired, I can’t help feeling really sad.
Take me back,
to the rivers of believe,
my friend:
I'll look inside my heart
I'll look inside my soul
I promise you I will return.
(...)
we'll rest our knees, on my rivers of belief
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