It is cold and I have given up pretending that I have something to say about "project planning". I am in my office with three guys discussing some boring proposal: one of them knows what he is talking about, the other two have engaged in a cock-fight of sorts - a "who is the smarter and more important contest" for which my presence and involvment is not necessary. Men can be so tiring. AND they now collectively can't get our (the girls') names right.

This weekend I don't have any visitors so I will try to work on my few existing pseudo-friendships and my thigh muscles. Which is just as well because last weekend in Lille we kept going from one resto to the next (parma ham, oysters, profiteroles, you name it) and I bullied Zazi into buying yummy chocolates at this divine chocolate shop called Le Chat Bleu - twice. It was a wonderfully lazy weekend, although we did socialize with Zazi's various friends: we went clubbing with a well-to-do doctor, his goofy young Finnish girlfriend and some other friends of his; the next day we did a video night a friendly lesbian couple where we - perhaps appropriately - watched Qu'est ce que sexe? a one-man show, the French version of Talking Cock, which is a pretty funny fake-academic analysis of the male sexual organ.

Zazi's friends were nice and entertaining and she was her usual self: openly discussing her sexual escapades with everybody we met, who are all very well versed in the most intimate details of her recently ended long-term relationship. I always tell her that she shouldn't talk to everyone about how horribly mean her ex was to her - my approach to these things is a little different though. I also always tell her that she is very beautiful and interesting and does not need to be too impressed by short, semi-attractive, womanizers wanting to sleep with her...not to say that she shouldn't do it: just with a different attitude.