Scorpio 16° (Nov 8)
What you never want to do is Google deep vein thrombosis. It’s probably never a good idea to get stoned and do it—can you imagine? Why do I think this is funny. Anyway, I’m at the beginning of a delicious void wherein I can fill to my heart’s desire. Typos happen. This is my open road. My Easy Rider. Just me and the past and the present and the future.
To recap: My writing in ital is that happening in the here and now (when I am posting this Blague, rather late, playing catch up on, well, a good four months of daily material. So I’m on this journey, in this presently italicized time, to bring the Blague up to speed. And the open road to which I refer is that, after posting obout seventeen of one-hundred and-twenty posts I’ve hit a run of about ten-days Blague where there are no notes in the word document where I create the entries before posting them on the website. My launching pad if you will. And easy archive in Word.
So what I’m about to do is refer back to my black diary for 2017 to put in some entrees from that day, which shall not be italicized, while beginning to kill at least two birds with one by writing, anew, things on my list which need writing.
So on this day and the day before (I skipped a diary day yesterday), while in Paris, my diary reads:
No breakfast. Merci for lunch. Bought Esther gift at shop owned by girl on Eurostar we remarked on. Jeweler. Maison Puisson. Walked up those blvd; ragwool chairs outside at a café; cased out Vivant; then to Fragonard museum. Tuilleries, Palais Royale, the market streets to Richer for a drink then Vivant, gois gras mousse, gnocchi.
Then, next day:
No breakfast.Nice walk to La Laiterie for lunch. Bonne Nouvelle. Hammam. Poulette for dinner: samosas, fish and duck, family of Sardinians next table. Walked all the way back to St. Genevieve.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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