Monday, for instance. I remember a meeting in the morning... No, it's really no good. This reminds of when I had a proper job with timesheets in London and I had to account for my actions in five minute increments, something I never did it on time, or indeed, ever, before an irate partner was standing in my office doorway spitting feathers. Then I was forced to work it out by looking through my 'sent items' folder at the bitchy emails I had sent to BMF, complaining. You can see why I was an underwhelming lawyer, right there. I was probably watching penguins all day and making lists. I'm going through a list phase. Oh, I had a lot of ailments too. Awful ones.
Ok, let's try Tuesday. Aha! I know about Tuesday, sort of. My internet friend F bullied me into beating my phone phobia and talking to her. She was extremely insistent, verging on terrifying, but it was lovely, actually. Not exactly productive. Well, maybe productive in the medium term since we have great plans for world domination. Ok, long term. Super long. In the short term she told me a scandalous story involving haemorrhoids (sp?), which was something of a comfort. Also, all the lights the Assassin "fixed" blew, leaving me once more in near darkness.
On Wednesday it gets slightly clearer, because I know I went to see a FILM. Quartier Lointain. I was extremely sceptical when I read the synopsis (slightly melancholic, creatively stymied strip cartoon author in his fifties gets mysteriously transported back to his teenage self on an accidental trip back to his hometown and tries to stop his father leaving), but it was actually great, beautifully acted, and full of dreamy 1960s French rural period gorgeousness. Well. My companion (who wishes to be described as "the internet dullard", and who am I to editorialise such clearly expressed wishes) had several gripes about the period detail, but I am a fairly uncritical viewer. Also, the teenage version of the melancholic fifty year old was just lovely. Sweet and wistful and gentle, like the film.
I also know that it was snowing like fuck, but then so does the rest of Europe, so I hardly get a gold star for that, do I?
On Thursday I went to an event on a boat. It was weird. I stole a marshmallow virgin, which now keeps appearing around the house, unnervingly, and got harangued about corporal punishment by a terrifyingly opinionated woman in fingerless gloves in front of a chocolate fountain. Then my friend T and I escaped from the boat and struggled, little match girl stylee, through the blizzard to an Ethiopian restaurant where they had very decent cocktails (T needed them after her first encounter with a real life Père Fouettard:
and I ate a whole sheep. The very decent cocktails might have been responsible for me getting on the wrong tram and ending up in the arse end of nowhere, then having to trudge back to the station, mid-blizzard, after midnight, to find a taxi. Actually, this week has taken place under the star of transport lameness. That may be its unifying theme (it would be hard to think of a duller one, wouldn't it? Comparative VAT legislation in EFTA states, perhaps).
Friday. Friday was odd. I had to write something about the economics of market abuse and dominance at a car event in a tent. The two were entirely unrelated, it was just unfortunate timing. I hope I didn't get them confused, but only time will tell. There were little snacks, this much I know, and nice men to bring you glasses of champagne. As a result I feel filled with expansive love for the car in question even though I could not pick it out of a line up where the other participants were a penny farthing bicycle, an articulated lorry and a pony.
Later I shopped resentfully for St Nicolas in a variety of shops selling brightly coloured Japanese tat and in the evening, I wrestled with more transport ludicrousness to get to B's birthday dinner. The dinner was lovely and B introduced us to the concept of "Birthday Penumbra". I like this part of the definition: "the grey area where logic and principle falter". In this context, however - and I think this concept should be used more widely - it meant that the existence of B's birthday required everyone to do EXACTLY what he wished without argument or any attempt to impose reason or logic. This fits exactly with my feelings about birthdays and also shows why B is amazing and must be showered with baby penguins and kittens carrying baskets of Speyside malts in their tiny paws and unlimited shopping trips to Hunting and Collecting and as much slow commuter stabbing as he would like me to undertake for him.
On Saturday I went to a Hungarian market and bought - look away now if you are a member of my family and expecting a Christmas present - a notebook with invisible rabbits on it, a mug, an apron featuring famous Hungarian moustaches and a bakelite hedgehog. The market was completely lovely and I am very pleased with my Christmas shopping. This has nothing whatsoever to do with the vin chaud. I also tasted a Hungarian cake shaped like a potato. Belgium does marzipan potatoes. Hungary and Latvia do chocolatey ones. What is this desire to make dessert potatoes, Europe? Let the potato be a potato!
Then I went to a young person's popular - music - festival - for - countries - not - fêted - for - their - popular - music, and fell in love with this Italian electro-trumpet-bouncy combo featuring great hilariousness, good hair, even better moustaches and a TRUMPET. They had a song called "giant squid" and another great one about a washing machine. I also cheated the giant icicles of certain death outside the venue and was lent a hat by a very cheerful tramp, despite my demurrals and claims of having a gigantic head. I had another transport disaster on the way back and had to walk half the way home. Even so, my good mood didn't finally evaporate until I got home to see the carnage wreaked by the dog on my St Nicolas shopping. He is still in disgrace.
Today was very peaceful and hygge apart from the slightly alarming discovery that the basement had filled with water and a furious semi-feral cat was nesting in my embarrassing mountain of Bags for Life. I am just ignoring it. The water and the cat.
Do tell me about your week in the comments.