omen

nocturnal moths bump against my window in sheer daylight, time ticks away. moths bump against my window, still. fly around my shoulders. whisper thoughts of night, transformation, flight, near death.

things i have learned in this journey

• spinning is fun
• mosquitoes love the taste of my blood
• there are worse places to be than my mother's kitchen
• i, too, can have a flat stomach with pilates
• rsi will always be my friend
• golondrina could be my new nickname if i wanted it
  
• dogs ain't so bad
• obsessive female friendships are my bread and butter
• single beds are definitely out
• it is possible to be very very still while moving at a frenzied pace
• autumn is ok, but summer's better
• scrabble rules
• life is full of small but powerful coincidences
• i will never ever lose weight back home
• my sunny terrace is a place to miss, if only i could kill my neighbours
• you can't blow and whistle at the same time
• i am still crap at buying presents, sorry everybody

Voyage (voyage), Et jamais ne revient.

the karate kid guy

he has worked all this life for this moment. he had studied communications. he had worked as a runner for eight years. he had chosen carefully the people he slept with, leaving the love of his life behind. he had spent more hours at the office than any other. he had wiped, and painted. he had got his promotions. he had bribed and manipulated and betrayed. and he was there at last. at the scheduling meeting. finally there when the moment came and someone said, damn, what the fuck are we going to show on sunday at midday? finally there to say, casually, hey, why don't we show karate kid again? everybody loves it. and to see all round the table nod. and to make sure that karate kid gets shown on the telly, again.