Tatterdemalion. It sounds like a curse word but it isn't so I feel ok using it. Tatterdemalion! You know how it goes. Life is fine, sailing along, the expected tumults turn out to be slight (disappointing)hiccups and you are left with a sense of unfulfilled expectation. My dad is gone now and I'm not missing him much. I suppose the fact that he's met another guy out there to watch the football with makes me feel relieved that he's not going to be lonely. I did miss him watching the Champions League semi with me though. :(



In other news, I went to Paris without the aid of drugs. Which was unthinkable for me a few years ago. It's a pretty good achievement which I managed to do all on my own, without therapy. *pats self on back* Paris was really beautiful, not a patch on Rome though. We stayed in the Latin Quarter, in a quaint hotel around a flowery, enclosed garden. I discovered that Ernest Hemingway lived in the flat opposite the gate. Walking down to Notre Dame was surreal. It was nothing like I imagined. The Eiffel Tower was a let down. So was the Louvre. I just loved the atmosphere of the city, the content of my history books playing out in my imagination along the streets. Especially so on the bicycle tour... At one point, in the shimmering spring sun, we leaned on the handlebars and stood in the grounds of the Louvre admiring the architecture when a air-raid siren sounded off across the city. Nobody flinched. I as slightly concerned at the noise because I recognise an emergency siren when I hear one! Our guide informed me that it was a drill, every first Wednesday of the month. Odd moment.

You know when stuff happens and you know it's not a simple coincidence? You know it's not as random as it looks? That there's a reason for it? It's a sign, a clue to help you discover your path. Well, I've got one. And it's major. And I love it.