Domestic Fugue

I made a little list today. I have Things on my Mind. And sometimes I can't attend to the Things until the things have been taken care of. It may be an internal agreement which allows Things (things Things) to Sliiiiiiiiiiiiide. So having, in principle, started some of the Things (involving, beerk, back-taxes on money not in fact earned, but red tape is red tape - thank you Christopher, accountant extraordinaire) in motion the things took precedence today so that we can finish the vicious little cycle.

things:

1. purchase and application of Biospot, spot-on flea control for cats, on cat. To deal with his very unwelcome new pets.

2. purchase, insertion (oh hush!) and activation of microbag in Hoover to suck up things

3. handwashing of collection of flimsy summer dresses. Seven of them.

4. calling my Mastercard company to dispute the $600 charge that the Alliance Francaise REFUSES to refund to me. The classes are due to start at the end of October, till early November. It's not like I'm ditching them in the middle...I decided: i) they are too expensive (for me) ii) I don't have 6 evening hours each week to devote to them, plus the hours traveling. Work has taken over, and iii) I know a personal tutor whose rewards (and punishment??)will far exceed anything the Alliance could either dream or OR be capable of. Bunch of limp willies. They have a separate phone line for these queries. No more cute Frenchy on the phone. Oh no, it's Longhue Island. And Longhue Island reads you The Policy. Doesn't listen to you, just reads it. Which says no refunds, only credit AT the Alliance. There was no mention of The Policy at sign up...no, just a purring lady Frenchie who lulled you into dreams of sunlit mornings with croissants and happy Canadian Frenchies.

This is America damnit!!! EVERYTHNG is refundable. Fuck off, Alliance Frenchies, it's WAR! I will eat ALL your cheese and hold your saucissons hostage. And you know what I can do to a saucisson far from its mother.

I'm not optimistic about the first round. I think those Frenchies have dealt with this before. When I called again, to another number, in an attempt to circumvent Longhue Island, the sexy-voiced lady Frenchie, when she heard what I wanted, said in clipped tones, Let me put you through to someone who will read you....The Po-li-cy.

We will NAIL your asses at the rugby. Oh, oops, we can't, because you're OUT! [see comments for my come-uppance]

5. Two loads of laundry, accomplished.

6. Purchased along with groceries my favourite Spanish Zoe tuna as a reward for all this activity. A Nicoise (it's OK, it's Southern, far from Paris) salad must be assembled. No. The pomegranates are not going into the salad. The beetroot is, though. Quelle horreur!

7. E-mailed the landlord and wrote words like Sliding Doors and Leaks. Ugh.

Other than that? Started the day well (if late...sorry Chris and Vivian) at Balthazar with a glass of champagne, a bowl of coffee and a croissant. Breakfast of champions.

And I wore my new boots. I have two pairs of new boots. I am very happy. Undertook to make a tart (lemon, I think, Dan) for Prune to say thank you for letting us film there next Tuesday. Somewhere in there I did some work and ate a Vietnamese sandwich at my desk. They've gone up from $3.95 to $4.50. So no longer dirt cheap. Just cheap. And still fantastic.