mercredi 28.03.07 Cheque mate – It’s Payday
If you read today’s blog title and think that we got paid today you’d be correct but when you read what I’m about to type and try to associate it with the above you’ll probably think I’m a bitch. Today I broke up with Fergal. I don’t like to dwell on raw affairs of the heart, but have their moment , so I decided that it shouldn’t warrant a telltale title as when it’s done it’s done and of course there is regret and sadness and glumness but if you’ve made a decision you have to suffer the consequences and move on. Everything in life is transient (according to Shakespeare) so for the moment I’ll just tell today’s tale and tomorrow’s will be tomorrow’s – they will be no dredging going on here.
In hindsight the title may sound ominous but check mate here is that knuckle-tagging cool salute that you give all your mates when you greet them or when something works out. Our paycheque also comes into play here too. However fine the financial situation may be my emotional situation is playing a losing game of sentimental chess. Fergal and I have tried the whole half-way-around-the-world-passion-on-a-postcard thing and it’s just not working. The rope of our emotional tug-of-war across the ocean remains intact but I feel I can no longer a tug so something’s got to give.
I rang Fergal from a phone cabin. I was going to call in the hills but I thought there would be too many distractions what with mountain traffic, hissing, horny lads and rain to compete with. However, the phone cabin in town doesn’t afford me much privacy or calmness either as I have two Americans next to me complaining to Dell about their botched computer. EXCUSE ME! Can you just give me a few minutes to sort out my botched relationship please? That’s what I feel like saying but it’s hard enough to talk to Fergal and I can’t set my emotional rage on some innocent bystanders.
I’m waiting for Nicola in the SoupBar when Jasmine and Ceri waltz by; I’m glad to talk about trivial assistant qualms and shopping sprees.
Lunch is a subdued affair but advice and support are administered for dessert.
I have enough get-up-and-go to take Oli up on his beach excursion so I join him at the port, with our French neighbours. I’m a big believer in signs, coincidences and the likes so when some American tourist starts to shriek on the way across the bay I begin to think that we’ll all be punished for my actions this morning… Thankfully it’s all turned around as the boat swerves a bit to reveal about a hundred dolphins dipping and diving across the bay behind us in the wake of the boat. By the time we’ve reached Point du Bout about thirty are left bobbing directly behind us. It’s the one moment I wish I’d had my camera but it’s better to live the experience than see it threw a lens.
Oli brings me out of the doldrums some more; ice-cream, sun and a swim always help. Some swimmers have found a starfish and we go to look at it before it’s cast away again. We spy Bertrand and Alex up the beach so we join them. Alex has a new girlfriend, Amadine. She’s not very warm but I don’t care as I roll back to soak up the sun’s heat. The lads and I later go for drinks before taking the navette back to the crazy definition for civilisation.
Lionel is acting as taxi-man for all the troops as he has wheels because he’s on permanence. Oli and I head to Cyber Délisse before our lift comes. I’m granted the front seat and Oli gets into the back. I’ve just closed my door when Oli lets out a howl. I look at him writhing on the back seat and I glance out onto the kerb; he’s holding his right arm close to his chest and with all the slow, painful twisting and turning he’s doing I presume someone has shot him. I’m the culprit. I closed the door on his fingers. He resembles a big, black snake squirming about slowing crushing his prey so another nickname is added to his repertoire by Lionel; Anaconda Man. It’s such a relief and it’s so typical of Oli to get himself into such a fix that I can’t help letting a sly smile out. Lionel’s on the same wavelength and we have to contain our giggles after we’ve tended to him. A calming drink is in order. Nic’s too busy at home preparing her big-little earner so we head to the popote at the regiment before I’m dropped home by Anaconda Man and Tahiti Bob.
If you read today’s blog title and think that we got paid today you’d be correct but when you read what I’m about to type and try to associate it with the above you’ll probably think I’m a bitch. Today I broke up with Fergal. I don’t like to dwell on raw affairs of the heart, but have their moment , so I decided that it shouldn’t warrant a telltale title as when it’s done it’s done and of course there is regret and sadness and glumness but if you’ve made a decision you have to suffer the consequences and move on. Everything in life is transient (according to Shakespeare) so for the moment I’ll just tell today’s tale and tomorrow’s will be tomorrow’s – they will be no dredging going on here.
In hindsight the title may sound ominous but check mate here is that knuckle-tagging cool salute that you give all your mates when you greet them or when something works out. Our paycheque also comes into play here too. However fine the financial situation may be my emotional situation is playing a losing game of sentimental chess. Fergal and I have tried the whole half-way-around-the-world-passion-on-a-postcard thing and it’s just not working. The rope of our emotional tug-of-war across the ocean remains intact but I feel I can no longer a tug so something’s got to give.
I rang Fergal from a phone cabin. I was going to call in the hills but I thought there would be too many distractions what with mountain traffic, hissing, horny lads and rain to compete with. However, the phone cabin in town doesn’t afford me much privacy or calmness either as I have two Americans next to me complaining to Dell about their botched computer. EXCUSE ME! Can you just give me a few minutes to sort out my botched relationship please? That’s what I feel like saying but it’s hard enough to talk to Fergal and I can’t set my emotional rage on some innocent bystanders.
I’m waiting for Nicola in the SoupBar when Jasmine and Ceri waltz by; I’m glad to talk about trivial assistant qualms and shopping sprees.
Lunch is a subdued affair but advice and support are administered for dessert.
I have enough get-up-and-go to take Oli up on his beach excursion so I join him at the port, with our French neighbours. I’m a big believer in signs, coincidences and the likes so when some American tourist starts to shriek on the way across the bay I begin to think that we’ll all be punished for my actions this morning… Thankfully it’s all turned around as the boat swerves a bit to reveal about a hundred dolphins dipping and diving across the bay behind us in the wake of the boat. By the time we’ve reached Point du Bout about thirty are left bobbing directly behind us. It’s the one moment I wish I’d had my camera but it’s better to live the experience than see it threw a lens.
Oli brings me out of the doldrums some more; ice-cream, sun and a swim always help. Some swimmers have found a starfish and we go to look at it before it’s cast away again. We spy Bertrand and Alex up the beach so we join them. Alex has a new girlfriend, Amadine. She’s not very warm but I don’t care as I roll back to soak up the sun’s heat. The lads and I later go for drinks before taking the navette back to the crazy definition for civilisation.
Lionel is acting as taxi-man for all the troops as he has wheels because he’s on permanence. Oli and I head to Cyber Délisse before our lift comes. I’m granted the front seat and Oli gets into the back. I’ve just closed my door when Oli lets out a howl. I look at him writhing on the back seat and I glance out onto the kerb; he’s holding his right arm close to his chest and with all the slow, painful twisting and turning he’s doing I presume someone has shot him. I’m the culprit. I closed the door on his fingers. He resembles a big, black snake squirming about slowing crushing his prey so another nickname is added to his repertoire by Lionel; Anaconda Man. It’s such a relief and it’s so typical of Oli to get himself into such a fix that I can’t help letting a sly smile out. Lionel’s on the same wavelength and we have to contain our giggles after we’ve tended to him. A calming drink is in order. Nic’s too busy at home preparing her big-little earner so we head to the popote at the regiment before I’m dropped home by Anaconda Man and Tahiti Bob.
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