1. I can’t sing well enough for Broadway.
2. I’m a lot better at photography.
So I guess I’m more of a female, non-Jewish Mark Cohen. Something like that… I just wish I had a better roommate. Cecile and I had our first fight last week. I came home from work (which has been ridiculously busy this month) and found her making out with some guy on my couch. On my couch, of all places!
I don’t know who the guy was--I didn’t bother to get his name and I don’t rightly care--but he had an English accent and he didn’t like it when I asked him to leave. (Probably because what I said was not what I intended. I intended, “Would you please leave my apartment?” What I said was, “You. Out of my house. Now.”) Naturally, Cecile was pissed, and two Frenchwomen fighting over a man is like… It’s ridiculous. But she knows the rule; no strays. I’ve only stressed it a hundred times. She claims he’s not a stray. Says he’s her boyfriend. In the words of one of my father’s several personalities, “I wasn’t picked fresh off the vine this morning!”
Speaking of my father. I think it may be time to pay him a visit soon. Although with the way work is getting… It’s been a while since I’ve seen Eric, too. I wonder how he is. The last time I saw him was last Monday, and he was in a serious hurry to be somewhere. Something important and doctor-y.