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Friday 8 January 2010
in Dear Diary
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Between me and my swing dance partner, the day after we both discovered West Coast Swing together (a sweet, sweet birthday present).

Me: "Dude. One could totally dance west coast to Ace of Base."

Him: "Ace of Base? You ARE old. Wait, are you texting me on a Friday night, when you know I'm with friends skiing, to tell me that?"

Me: "Can't help it if you're a kid. Like you don't enjoy telling your friends you're getting texts from the girl you held in your arms most of the evening yesterday."

Him: "I can't believe I actually missed you."

Me: "Good night, my dear. Enjoy some mulled wine for me."

Totally worth my money.

No more witty thoughts allowed.

# Feed the beast

I read

Mostly detective stories. Occassionally, weird fantasy, theater, or Chinese literature in Italian (I have fantastic friends), real well-written books.

I listen to

Mof Montreal, Caravan Palace, the Ditty Bops, Dango Reinhardt, the National, Minor Majority, Léo Ferré, Beethoven, Sonny Rollins, Laura Marling, Erlend Øye, Hjaltalin, Sufjan Stevens, Yuri Bashmet. And others.

I am

late, I'm late, I'm late for a very important date, delighted by Oscar Wilde (One should always be a little improbable), a little improbable, still very much of a bloody leftist, heathen atheist, and a woman scientist.

Deep Thought

'To leave is to die a little. But to die is to leave a lot' (translated from French)
[Alphonse Allais]

(Almost) Legal Mentions

(Dammit this one joke only works in French. You're missing out.)
Not recommended for children under 36 months.
Please handle carefully.
Beware of the kitty.
Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.*

* Strike out if inapplicable