Actually, I have to find some pecularities of images in "Les Bonnes" by Jean Genet instead of watching Mulberry's lookbook. Mais.. c'est si seduisant, c'en est trop pour moi! The further I get the harder the going.

While there are few things I consider sacred, my personal liberty is one of them. I appreciate the concern, but I should always be free to leave. Sitôt dit, sitôt fait, as we both know that I'll never be completely trustworthy. And I admit it's not my strong suit either. But it's part of what keeps things interesting between us. However, now it's my time to gloat. I can't be bribed either and certainly I can easily discern pseudo-intellectual heinous malcontents in others as I am a person of quite another sphere and know these certain cachets. I suppose there could be some excruciating pleasure in that. Pop the champagne.

We're not the same, dear, as we used to be as the seasons have changed and so have we. There was little we could say and even less that we could do to stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you. We buried our love in the wintery grave,
a lump in the snow was all that remained, but we stayed by its side, as the days turned to weeks and the ice kept getting thinner with every word we'd speak. When the spring arrived, we were taken by surprise when the flows under our feet bled into the sea and nothing was left for you and me..

These lines are constantly running through my head as it gave me a clear insight into my current frame of mind about our affaire de cœur. It was very wrong of him to make such a request. It was like shooting fish in a barrel! I followed him to the edge and fell off. Et à quoi bon? Voilà tout à coup I fervently desired to hit the bottom and escape.. je voudrais disparaître sans laisser de traces. I can't seem to stop craving for escape.


[622x415]

Yay! I have no french studies tomorrow which means that I may spend my time in a coffee-bar and scrutinize closely all periodicals I've overlooked, go Christmas shopping or even take a stroll. These days seemed to me to be arduous and everything was hazardous. I just feel that every trifle will be the coup de grace to me if I won't find the time for some relaxation since smoking in bathtube and gorging on tarts, brownies, macaroons, cream puffs.. oh, is not effective anymore.

I am sorely in need of my favourite macaroons in order that I should avoid meeting him. As I am totally afraid of seeing his eyes blazing with frenzied passion I would rather gulp back tons of sweeties of every sort and kind. Oh, Almighty, safeguard me against that reckless bastard. I'll endeavour to remain calm and if it won't be effective, like every great general, I have contingency plans. Luckily I have Marie-Antoinette's life history to amuse myself throughout the night. What a tight-knit plan! Or, let's be honest, I am totally don't need to go through that.

'My smoking might be bothering you, but it's killing me'.
- Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette

One shortcoming of our modern culture is the universal lack of adequate relaxation. Many not only do not know how to relax, but do not take time to learn. Smoking helps to relax because, like music, it is rhythmic. Smoking gives a legitimate excuse to linger a little longer after meals, to stop work for a few minutes, to sit at home without doing anything that requires effort. Also, obviously, the powerful erotic sensitivity of the oral zone is the reason for that pleasure derived from smoking.

And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our lips,
And covered our names.

(Emily Dickinson)

As I've come down with a fever I started to vent my frustration in poetry while I was sitting in my favourite coffee-bar and waiting for my darling minion. Obviously, my lighter turned out to be used up, so I kept clicking it, simultaneously thinking about the veritable reason why I am still with him in my mind. It is hard to discern anything in our affair, nevertheless I was like statue-statuesque with 'this person' - sized cloud above my head looking the waiter lasking to light my cigarette. Well, it doesn't matter so far as we all know that signs and visions are for the religious the superstitious and the lower class. I believe that we're alive but I should give up all reminiscences about us
'until the moss had reached our lips
and covered our names'.
[622x415]

Whether it is a skill learned hanging around the sets of her father's films or something in the family blood, Sofia Coppola has definitely inherited a distinguishable talent as a filmmaker. It is clear as noonday that her films have the good sense of a disarmingly poetic and specifically female vision of naive beauty of youth. God is my witness, I am just smitten and spellbound by every episode of her films, which are definetely mesmerizing and enigmatic.

Well, anniversary celebrations are over, though it was much harder than I'd expected. Celebrations lasted all last week (well, tautology) and I only set myself the task of arriving in time and at the right place, because It seemed that I was the most required person as a requisite. Unfortunately, I arrived as the last person at the party as usual and then as the best way out was to leave ignominiously I ran out into the Arbat street to take a whiff and just walk. Consequently, we agreed on meeting at the bar where we arranged some champagne (though I don't like all the fizzes) and were talking throughout the night until the first guests start leaving the party. Nevertheless, It was totally euphorigenic and miraculous as New Year's Eve.

A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure.
It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied.
What more can one want?

In contrast to my adorable Oscar I'd better say that I feel compelled to have a cigarette because I am surrounded by smokers. So many people indulge me in the deadly habit that I feel pressured to take up. For instance, yesterday it seemed that everyone was at it. In dark corners of bars fag-wielding folk played games of cat-and-mouse with the sharp-suited bouncers who scurried after them and urged them to throw their addiction sticks to the floor. Amusing to watch, but I stank the next day.
So, free booze, drinking games and all the cigarettes you can chimney!!! Count me in…

PS "Remember, if you smoke after sex you're doing it too fast." Woody Allen

I've got so many things to take care of! But I just screwed it all up as soon as I'd left girls in the pub at the crack of dawn and rested the head on a pillow. No order in restaurant, no date at substantial breakfast in my favourite coffee bar... Oh, mon Dieu.. I've just left so many calls unanswered that I would probably be on the verge of ruin. I'd better try to exercise the damage limitation as my strategic retreat.. and take some meds. What's the deuce! Furthermore, I've completely run out of coffee and cigarettes!

Many times watching my favourite movie Breakfast at Tiffany's I've been wondering why in the world it is that so many women who really want to think of themselves as Holly Golightly, who is by all accounts ia a kept woman in many ways and one who is dependent for her 50$ for her powder room. No one cares that she is a child bride who escaped her impoverished Texas roots at the age of 14, who makes a living as a companion to various wealthy men lavishing her with money and expensive presents as she is so chic jet-setting girl looking stunning in Gyvenchy dress. Actually, also no one blame her for conspiracy with Mafia guys as well as she doesn't seem to care who she inconveniences in order to get what she wants. Finally, her personal relationships seem fleeting and meaningless.
But there are also a lot to really like about Holly and we might even feel sympathetic for her as we do hope that ultimately she'll settle down in her life. So, what makes her as a character interesting to watch is our expectation of great things of Holly as well as of ourselves.

Well I'm aware that I lack some people's easy grace with strangers, and I don't exactly make you feel you've known me forever even though we just met. When I laugh you might not smile just that the coquettish sound of it and I may not be spontaneous or delightful or full of surprises and my hair may not sparkle when it catches the light! Everything worth knowing about me is in my favourite poems and music, I am sure. And then, after plenty of captious objections, I will ensure you that I'm the most charming creature in the whole world.

Well, now I feel absolutely complete. I am not naturally this kinda ruthless social dictator but I believe that the boy looking as a lifegaurd is like a kleenex – use once then throw away. Poor boys. It's easy to get a slap in the face for some trifle when you deal with me. Just don't mock my lisping, don't you dare! - it's my signature. Actually, as well as my ablepsia. I just had to go out of here, this place nauseates me.

No one knows when one's hand on your hip can lead to a knife in the back. So, I would love to strangle him with a silk scarf or cravat having snatched a fervent kiss before he stabs me by insulting words. And as I am sent to ecstasies about all his smoking jackets and boutonnieres he just stirs my ravenous apetite. What a shame!

PS Perhaps, I consider it for the simple reason that in my childhood I was fond of Philippe de Plessis-Bellière more than the other lovers.

relax, relax, tu es à la masse et bien bu, alors, relax, remet-toi en place. Ne te voile pas la face efface donc toute cette crasse.
Repose tes pensées, écoute le vent qui souffle..

I dearly love the men, but as far as I am single and childless, I can love them only in the specific sense. Well, sometimes it happens that some group of young men and girls bring up family life. So, everybody speaks his mind on wedding, the idea of marrige in general and question on family upbringing/ What kind of malicious attacks do suffer girls who believe that a chld can be brought up without man or who desire to be, first of all, mother while get married - is minor question for them. Young people sharply condemn such sedition, sometimes even called the girls gratuitous insults.
The matter is that... it is touching to see young fathers with their kids under their arms because it occures so rarely and only in north countries such as Sweden or UK. They so rarely appear in parks, at school meetings and, God forbid, in clinics ... The question is...
So, in what the men so fiercely claiming that "a child needs a father!" see the role of father? So, what unique features do men have, not visible to the human eye, that the child can't do without them? While the men are preparing to reply, I will summarize.
Any child needs a father, not as, er.. the iphone, which demonstrate its value - the child needs a father functioning, directly involved in the development, upbringing and education, who doesnt disdain female troubles.

With certainty I can be diagnosed with dozens of distressed deseases, but the greatest one is my cacoethes of reading news. TIME on blackberry doesn't satisfy my appetite anymore. As well I started to think that my formerly favourite euronews and BBC with their silly chatters would vex a saint! Oh, grâce au ciel that my network is in order every morning.
So, I'd rather close all these sites and all applications on my bb and take a whiff turning over the pages of my beloved Arthur and Oscar. Good tobacco only imparts some relish to their lines and poems, which are truly remarkable.

PS Lovely Genève won my heart with romantic splendour of gardens as it always remains me magnificence of France.