"I don't need to work out. My anxiety acts as aerobics."
So last night, after an ill-advised and mostly wasted trip to Montreuil, I was on the metro heading to Franklin D. to meet the Yalie for a movie (
Scoop, which made me finally understand the hotness of Hugh Jackman, although he wasn't as hot at the guy sitting a few rows ahead of us in the theater) and I made the mistake of absentmindedly half-smiling at some old guy as he was getting off at Nation. My absent-minded half-smile made him decide to NOT get off, and he spent the next 20 stops sitting three feet from me, staring. He followed me when I got off the train, put his arm around me as I was walking down the hallway, and didn't give up even after I shoved him pretty hard. Fortunately, I ran into the Irish Neighbor on the quai for another line, and while I talked to her for a few minutes he disappeared. So... yeah. Scoop. Better than I expected, but I didn't expect much.
Speaking of the Irish Neighbor, I've tried to be less shy, and I ended up hanging out with her both Monday and Tuesday - at one point, we were even both in flannel PJs, huddled under down comforters, laughing at the ridiculousness of a dubbed Thomas Crown Affair. Pretty fabulous stuff.
And finally, last night I had this dream about my last boyfriend, which is odd, since we broke up about 3 years ago. I think it's because I keep seeing this commercial for a new Lolita Lempicka fragrance, and he's the only person I've ever known who wore the brand. Also, this weekend some people I don't know are coming to Paris from Cali and I guess I'll be a bit of a tour guide, which should be fun, although I don't know anything about them (all I know is that this guy is coming with three friends). Anyway, in my dream, the last boyfriend was one of the three friends, and we reconnected and all o' that. Very strange to have this whole dream about an old relationship invading a new place. And... that's my boring travelogue. Sorry, Jaydub.
