mamahog 'n the lets

ok i know heat rises 'n shit. but i never appreciated until now, how much the downstairs neighbours heating warmed my tootsies.

and they've only gone and moved out.

my feet are frozen.
and i detest wearing slippers.

and i miss practicing my french by listening in on their private conversations in the backyard.

ma petit pied est geler?

is that right? it doesn't have quite the same ring as 'ma petite culotte est mouillée'
and now my spelling. grammar and accent are just fucked.

poo and oui.

i miss them.
i'm a call em and beg for their return.
or at least for a cup of tea and fromage at their new maison.

and i hope we get cool new neighbours soon.
who like to be warm, and are partial to screamy elephants overhead.

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snow is falling. it's a blizzard out there.
my cab ride home alone should have been scary but somehow wasn't. booze makes us resilient.
my shoulder (5 old slipped discs) is achy.
the house is empty and cold, and i gravitate toward melancholy music as always.
there's cat shit on the bathroom mat.

yet snow always makes me happy.
and booze makes us resilient.
and numbs pain.
the house is empty because my children are staying with their father who they love, and my new love is playing poker with his new found mates just down the road.
melancholy music makes me smile and sigh.
and i'm brilliant at ignoring cat shit.

the wind is drumming a rhythm with the plastic crap and bits of broken tables and chairs left on the balcony, and the playlist is looking up.

i'm out of touch, and a little annoyed with myself for letting life take over.
but i forgive.

because i'm busy. i have the worlds best buffers. and i saw some fabulous films and danced like a twat.

and later we will all dress up woolen toasty, head outside, and make an igloo.

life is good.

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