It’s the season of colds. I’m stuck at home, working, nursing a cold and taking Decolgen every six hours. But I don’t regret going out Saturday night with my Kenyan friend Grace and her Kenyan friend Ann, because we got dead drunk over Desperados and gossiped about our French language school classmates. The night ended at 3 am, running towards the car shrieking with laughter in 7 degree temperature; Julien, who was dead-sober, had to endure driving us home, listening to our drunken lamentations about France not appreciating us, etc.
