peace out, beotch!

I am leaving France. TOMORROW! Fuck. Packing is still a significant pain in the ass, but I think I have done most of it. May have to throw away more shit than I already have (TRULY a statement) but I think I should survive. The mere idea of dragging my luggage around Paris and getting soaked in my own sweat is still chilling, but I think this time the dragging and sweating should be slightly more minimal. One hopes! This time, I am armed with the knowledge that there is a bus from Gare du Montparnasse to Charles de Gaulle, which will hopefully ease matters.

But I still can't help but thinking I will be barred from exiting this fucking country because I didn't EVER GET my carte de sejour. And I lost my titre de sejour, for a second time. This is basically the thing that goes in my passport and says I have the right to be spending this much bloody time in France.

So, I've said my goodbyes to almost everyone, which was only hugely traumatic and sad, made worse by the fact that I am slightly emotionally retarded and have no fucking clue how to say goodbye to people.

But my big crazy plan for saying goodbye to the Brest peeps worked like a charm. My friend Medhi let me use his house, which was the site of two all-night fetes in a row in the mad days of January. I debuted the 'dj-eurotrash presents: international party mix 2005' which I have been putting together for a while, and it was HOT, let me assure ye!

I, of course, got madly drunk and have zero recollection of the last two hours of my consciousness (between three and five) but apparently I was having a really swell time until I crashed in Medhi's bed and refused to leave and had to be carried to the clickclack (foldout bed). I was slightly embarassed to hear this particular detail, but whatever remains whatever.

Anyway, I am currently taking a little chill out from the unbridled insanity that is packing. How lovely to think I will be moving twice in the next six months! AWESOME! Not even counting the transitional month chez mes parents going through all the shit I have left there.

All I really have left to do today is wait for my darling Imani to arrive, so we can bid each other a thoroughly emo farewell. History has the odds against me crying, since I have only cried once in my adult life, but only the good lord knows.

My beloved Germans have actually agreed to take me to the train station tomorrow...AT FIVE IN THE FUCKING MORNING?! I'm not really thrilled about having to go there at such an ungodly hour, but it warms me heart that they're willing to take me. The travel day will only be mildly hellish, one hopes, but I will actually arrive on the night of the same day, as opposed to the three days of travel madness that found me stumbling like a sleep-deprived madman with rust French into Paris. Sweating, as previously mentioned.

Need to call my bro and make sure he's able to deliver me my delicious holistic herbs. I need that shit!