Hello, it is 2 am and I can’t sleep. I am going to blog while I wait for my tea to steep.
Wednesday night I had a real, old-fashioned slumber party at my friend Sarah’s place. It was just like the ones back in sixth grade. We had ice-cream, nachos, wine (ok, on that point it differed from my 6th grade slumber parties) and talked about makeup and boys. It was soooo much fun.
In a similair vein, Saturday night Sarah and I are going to participate in a scavenger hunt in a forest outside Brussels. How cool is that?
Earlier Wednesday evening we had gone to see the movie Stay with Ewan MacGregor. He played a psychiatrist and wore the too short, pulled-up-to-the-navel pants last seen on my younger brother Nick when he dressed up as a “Nerd” for Halloween.
The movie was just like the pants: weird and embarrassing. Stay away, stay far away.
Then we went back to Sarah’s place and I was once again afflicted with a serious case of apartment-envy. She lives in an adapted former grand home. High ceilings. A huge mirror above a fireplace. A 200 year old mural of Botticelli-ish angels.
Sigh.
Oh well. To paraphrase Mr. Collins from Pride and Prejudice “Resignation to apartmental evils is the duty of us all.”
On the plus side: my apartment is in one of the safest parts of the city. Sarah, poor girl, shares her block with 3 strip joints-and all the lowlifes that skulk about such places- and her street corner with 3 transvestite prostitutes. One of them was picked up by a guy in a car just as Sarah and I were walking by.
Like I keep saying, in
