happy holidays

Plop plop plop goes the pluie.....

The three hour pelting that was last night's perf was accompanied by divas mouthing their passions, strings flailing their arms in a silent movie, our bear of a chef dancing at the ring-front and red-lit surtitles telling an incomprehensible story of two sons miming an attempt to shag their dad's chic. No-one died but most of us nearly drowned.

The planned two day trek in the mountains with my love has been abandoned in favour of J buying a lightweight Berghaus top of the range mac, me an umbrella and both of us sitting in a cramped studentenheim with fluorescent lights, making lunch on a ring watching episodes of anything.

Plop plop plop goes the pluie.