Random Mumbling...

First off, I still haven't managed to undo the mess the house is in after having had D here for two weeks whilst I was in Amsterdam. I made an omelette for dinner tonight and it nearly gave me motion sickness as the handle has come unscrewed and so it kept tilting from side to side while I was trying to cook. Thanks for that D.

So I did very little today. One last "hurrah" weekend before shit gets real I say. I have to give myself a serious kick in the ass. Plus the state of my house is so depressing I literally don't know where to begin. Coco is coming round the house tomorrow for an English lesson and I planned to make another batch of my chocolate sugar cookies to surprise him. This would mean I'd need to wake up early in the morning but it's umm 2 am already.

It is an odd thing really to leave your house in the care of someone else. The place in Amsterdam that I rent is really nice and I'm quite careful when I'm there. Not to the extent that I hinder myself from enjoying it, but I am a bit kinder to the furniture and more apt to not leave the washing up in the sink for more than a night. I'm so fastidious about the A'dam digs that I no longer have to pay the security deposit or the cleaning fee.

Meanwhile chez moi I've had two different people to watch the house while I was away and both times I returned a mess. The first time - let's call him Monsieur Angst drank about sixteen bottles of liqueur from my bar and all my wine. Monsieur Angst believes that drinking himself to death is mandatory for his art. He likes being tortured and twisty. He's sort of like my own personal Jodorowsky (mad director of El Topo that does tarot card readings in Paris on Wednesday afternoons) and looks like Rasputin, who incidentally I like to believe Jodorowsky had a slight obsession with. See below for evidence.

El Topo

Now I do know some crazy people. It comes with the territory. Live in a big city, know a few artsy folk, and the crazy just sort of sneaks up behind you and taps you on the shoulder. I suppose being a self-heralded member of the "artsy folk" I'm a bit crazy too.

But I've never lived in a French cellar (which Monsieur Angst likened to living in a tomb) and I don't drink at least a bottle of vodka a day. I think Monsieur Angst is a nice boy, but I wouldn't leave him all alone in my house ever again.

Like I said this is random mumbling, all brought on by Monsieur Angst's last FB update...

Akh! So fucking sick and tired of being obliged to be petty just to be loved or accepted. To be vulgar just to be understood. Of having to sacrifice myself just to be with you. Thirty years is a bit too much. I am a whirlwind and I'm willing to be lost in Nothingness. To Hell with you all! You're nothing but a pack of cards!

I really don't want to wake up super early tomorrow and clean my house, I think I shall delay by an hour and then clean so thoroughly the house won't need a scrub for at least a week. I had this friend who traveled often for work who said that it takes half the time you're away to recover from your vacation. I don't think she ever let anyone stay at her place though while she was away. Smarter girl than me obviously.

I'm off to bed. By this time tomorrow night I will have long since been in REM sleep as cleaning house from top to bottom is all day affair and assuredly I shall be exhausted.

Bonne nuit les petits.