Good Morning, Midnight

Good Morning, Midnight!
I'm coming home.
Day got tired of me-
How could I of him?
Sunshine was a sweet place,
I liked to stay-
But morn didn't want me - now-
So good night, day!
-Emily Dickensen

Breathe Slow

I just received the best news I have heard all week. A friend of mine from SUISS has just offered to let me stay with her when I go to Paris next month. Which means that I can go to Paris and actually afford it!! I am absolutely thrilled! Not only will this save me a bundle of money, I will also get to see my lovely friend Eugenia and get a true Parisian's guide to the city. Plus, Eugenia is a girl after my own heart and has an insatiable desire for anything sweet and chocolatey so I guarantee that my bags will be bulging with delectable French treats when I return to Edinburgh.

I have had an absolutely horrific week so this tidbit of good news is like manna for my spirit right now. I won't go into details (mainly because I don't want to give certain pesky busy-body trouble-makers any more brain time than is absolutely necessary)but the gist of it is that work has been a nightmare these past couple of weeks due to people inventing fairy stories because of the sheer boredom that comes from working in a brain-dead job. Unfortunately, I work in an environment where gossip spreads like wildfire and Chinese whispers are the daily special.

My mom's homing device must have been kicking in all the way from Perth because I was having the absolute worst day ever when she gave me a call yesterday. It's the strangest thing ever, she always knows exactly when I need to talk to her. Maybe she really does have me bugged....I just needed to rant. And rant and rant and rant. And then my dad got on the phone and I ranted some more. I felt a million times better and I was actually able to laugh about it afterwards. My dad is really good at helping me see the ridiculousness of a situation :-) I also got a very sweet email from my favourite ex-roomie Jen so I was completely topped up on my love meter. Thanks family and Jen! Mmmmmmwah!




Now I think it's time to do some Paris research. Any suggestions?

Au revoir!
xxx

Specimen hands

There are some hands whose past you don’t want to know
Hands that wound the clock above the fire
That exchanged rings under a crucified and Caucasian Christ
That reached into cabinets containing bottles of laudanum then fell by
Sides in a groggy narcotic daze
Hands that buried a secret in a paddock behind a church
That arranged stones just-so, then wiped their owner’s mouth.

Graeme miles

*..but you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle made for two...*