April 19th, 1990
Hangovers are no fun but as bad as I felt, Ben seemed worse, so much so in fact that he rang in sick for work, after which, we lounged around for the remainder of the morning, drinking tea, attempting to eat tiny bits of toast, listening to the new Seal cd.
“What’s your favourite track so far?”
“I really like the Crazy one and the one about Paradise.”
“Yeah, me too, it’s called Future Love Paradise. Really excellent cd.”
“Is actually, can you play it again?”
He grinned. “Of course, ‘til you know all the words.”
“Ah,” I sighed. “You know me so well.”
When I came home, mum looked slightly frazzled, due, I suspected, to mini monster’s antics. She soon pepped up when I suggested taking Alistair to the pictures, where we saw, “Uncle Buck,” which was actually quite amusing but more importantly, it kept the little nipper quiet for a couple of hours.
Fun chat tonight to Stephen, who invited me to go to Germany this weekend.
“Hmmmm, I told Jean Jacques I might go to his for a couple of days.”
“Oh darling,” he cooed. “You really are a dark horse. Who’s this Jean Jacques character?”
“Didn’t I tell you about him?”
“No, you did not!”
“Actually, there’s not much to tell and I was only thinking of going to Paris because he won’t be there.”
“He lives in Paris?”
“Yeah, he’s Parisian.”
“So why won’t he be there?” Stephen asked.
“He’s flying to Vietnam tonight.”
“Wait, he’s cabin crew? Let me guess, Air France?”
I laughed. “No, he’s a journalist.”
“Ok I’m totally lost now.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in on the flight to Dusseldorf.”