You know how a lot of people quit drinking for the month of January in order to recover from the excesses of the holiday season? Well, I do something a bit more extreme: I become a hermit. Seriously, you have more chance of seeing a hairy-eared dwarf lemur clinging to the side of Notre Dame than you do of seeing me out and about in January. This year is no exception - if anything, I have taken it to extremes for the very good reason that after spending the entire month of December having a good time on my (sadly unpaid) holiday, I took a hard look at my financial situation and...ouuuuuuch. I haven't been this poor since my student days, so it behooves me to pay off those nice people at Amex before I get to have any more fun. D'ohh.
So you've probably been wondering why I'm not posting up a storm since I'm home hibernating instead of running around Paris? Erm...well...I haven't got much to report at the moment - do you really want to hear about me lounging around in my jammies watching all four seasons of Prison Break? Because if you do, I assure you I could write about the blazing hotness of Wentworth Miller all the livelong day, but I don't really think you want to get me started on those lurid fantasies...
Anyway, having said all that, I did get dragged out on Friday night by my landlady and her boyfriend and a couple of friends of his from Brazil. Funnily enough, in all my very well-traveled and highly social life, I had never before met any Brazilian men and now I am giving serious thought to moving to Rio as I have never been drooled over so much in my entire life, (not even in Rome, when I was younger, thinner, blonder and hotter - ahhh, good times) and honestly, there wasn't a whole lot to be drooling over on this particular evening. I was looking distinctly average, and yet all I heard was how beautiful I am, how good I smell, how beautiful, how funny, how beautiful, how charming, how beautiful, how witty - you get the idea. And yes, I am aware that all this flattery was just an (unsuccessful) attempt to seduce me but let me tell you: during the cold, miserable, poverty-filled month of January in Paris, a little bit of sunny Rio sweet-talk was just the thing to cheer up this grumpy little hermit.
So you've probably been wondering why I'm not posting up a storm since I'm home hibernating instead of running around Paris? Erm...well...I haven't got much to report at the moment - do you really want to hear about me lounging around in my jammies watching all four seasons of Prison Break? Because if you do, I assure you I could write about the blazing hotness of Wentworth Miller all the livelong day, but I don't really think you want to get me started on those lurid fantasies...
Anyway, having said all that, I did get dragged out on Friday night by my landlady and her boyfriend and a couple of friends of his from Brazil. Funnily enough, in all my very well-traveled and highly social life, I had never before met any Brazilian men and now I am giving serious thought to moving to Rio as I have never been drooled over so much in my entire life, (not even in Rome, when I was younger, thinner, blonder and hotter - ahhh, good times) and honestly, there wasn't a whole lot to be drooling over on this particular evening. I was looking distinctly average, and yet all I heard was how beautiful I am, how good I smell, how beautiful, how funny, how beautiful, how charming, how beautiful, how witty - you get the idea. And yes, I am aware that all this flattery was just an (unsuccessful) attempt to seduce me but let me tell you: during the cold, miserable, poverty-filled month of January in Paris, a little bit of sunny Rio sweet-talk was just the thing to cheer up this grumpy little hermit.
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