cannon shot on the smoky village 4am

I will most certainly erase this tomorrow. But tonight, started evening at the ARC, where I met a whole sea of boys from the Cité des Arts, Hôtel de Ville. There was lots of fun to be had, chowing and chewing with Nico, my muffin from the gallery, and Austrian boy gave me an invite to the free drinks and food party afterwards. By the time the night ended, at Point FMR, I had fended off two serious proposals for sex, the first one completely inappropriate and embarassing, the other one rather bashful yet sodden. Finally somebody suggested that I better get a ring so that people know I'm married. (add-on, I don't think it's really about being married so much as saying no.)


addendum (day after)

Momentarily dismayed at my cavalier attitude towards sex, flirtation.... men in general. But where is the poetry if not in the quicksilver moment where the initial burn of an attraction is immediately sideslipped from action. The other day, I was talking about Un Monde Sans Pitié, the first french film I watched, when still a teenager. It's exactly the type of film that Americans would never be able to understand from the french (Janet Maslin's review was laughable, but how else can she see the world but through those American goggles). The script was co-penned by Arnaud Desplechin, which reveals that maybe my taste hasn't changed a lot since my youth. I loved that film, the nihilism, the faithfulness to a world that only exists because of lightness, the apocryphal battle in your 20s between fantasy and reality, and the absurdity of real compassion when faced with true love. It is for me a truth, that desire is real, that a moment where a glance is passed and the shades are pulled naked from the eyes is a moment of true beauty. I regret nothing.