“Gipsy, give me your tears”

“Gipsy, give me your tears!”

On my way back to the pharmacy just now, a gipsy talked to me. Dude, that was so weird!

I *must* blag about it ๐Ÿ˜‰

She said I would travel abroad, but not just now. Well, I didn’t say, but the taxi picks me up in 10 minutes to go to the airport; I’m going to Boston for a few days, for work.

She told me to remember the number “19” because it is going to be important in the upcoming months.

She asked me if the initials M J F meant anything to me and I said no. But she said I should keep them in mind because they will matter soon.

Then she gave me a white plastic “stone” from the Saintes-Marie de la Mer, where she comes from). It’s ugly. She said people must treat gipsies right (and she meant “generously”), so I gave her 5 euros. She must have thought she was in potentially good compagny, so she went on and read my palm.

She said I was lucky and other stuff and that I had an excellent memory (wrong!)
She asked me if I had undergone surgery in my life and I said no, and she said I never would. Amen.

That’s when she said it usually costs EUR 20 to 30 for palm reading. She was _that_ close to add “otherwise the predictions don’t work”, I’m sure.

I didn’t give her any more money but I’ll slip the plastic thingie in my bag, just in case ๐Ÿ˜‰

Update: I just thought I’d mention that the flight attendant, seeing I was pregnent, moved me from a seat at row 11 (exit) to row… 19!
No update on MJF.

Estimating distances

Here’s my folks’ estimations of how many kilometers I flew in 2006:

  • My dad opened at 20,000 km (12,400 mi)
  • My mum started at 3,000 km (1,800 mi) and seeing my face changed to 12,000 km (7,500 mi)
  • My brother volunteered 15,000 km (9,300 mi)

When my mum started at 3,000 km, I thought about the 4,800 km (3,000 mi) I spent in a car in NZ in 2004.

I flew almost 82000 km (51,000 mi).
I’m bad at estimating distances myself, mind you.

One week left

One week left and then I travel back to France. Living in Boston is fun. I drank more caramel macchiatos and cafe’ mochas than I hoped I would, I didn’t have any pretzel and I didn’t post as many photos to flickr as I had hoped I would. I had very good clam chowders and got to try the Stata Center ping pong table just 2 days ago.

I really had a *wonderful* time, and I wish I can return soon.

When I think there is just one week left, I feel like diving on the bed, burying my face in a pillow, and pretend that this truth does not exist. This reference is from the movie “The Science of Sleep”. The main character breaks into his neighbour’s apartment and she shows up so unexpectedly that he just dives on her bed, hides his face in her pillow and asks her to pretend she doesn’t see him.


Happy thanksgiving, folks!

I’m off for a few days to experience my first Thanksgiving celebration. And I have to earn it by waking up at 5 am tomorrow, taking a flight, and being driven (and maybe drive) for about 3 hours.

Then I’ll travel again, for work. Next Saturday. Through Chicago and to Tokyo. I’ve been there already 3 years ago, it doesn’t seem so long ago, though.

And the week after I’m back in Boston for 10 days.

I’d like it if time just stopped, in fact. Right now would be good, since I’m going to bed in a few minutes ๐Ÿ˜‰