Stomach bug, Marc, London and chocolate

Yesterday was my first “chocolate” day. Verdict? Knowing I could eat the whole slab radically pacified me. I respected Zermati’s instructions, namely tasting each piece, while taking the time to sit at a table. Well, as I was in a bar, I didn’t go as far as putting the whole slab in a plate as recommended. But I ordered a tea and I really thought of what I was doing, namely eating Milka – I know[1], it’s not the best for purists but I have a big soft spot for the blue cow – completely legally.

At the end of the first bar, light nausea, but not full. The second bar was less good, but still, this ‘taste of wishful come-back’ which we, sweet teeth, all have. Thus, bang, third bar. Plus two pieces for the road.

Result: half of the slab for my meal.

And huge thirst to get rid of this syrupy sensation in the back of my throat, this sugar overdose that irritate tonsils so bad it makes you cough.

Around 17h, I felt slightly hungry, one of my colleague, as thin as a rake and addicted to Swiss breads – an insult to healthy food – brought me a small muesli bread, I indeed wanted only something savory.

In the evening, a good slice of home-made spinach quiche and a piece of cheese on bread and off you go.

What do I retain from this?

That half a slab stayed in my bag for half a day and I didn’t even think of nibbling a piece. I who usually can’t help myself when any product made of more than 2% cocoa is within 1km distance, I FORGOT it was in my Marc Jacobs.

Yeah, I have a Marc Jacobs, I know, it sounds very blond slut to show off but I held onto it for 10 months before sharing my joy here, since it’s my Christmas present from 2008. Furthermore, it’s purple.

However, I’m not going to tell what’s in my Marc Jacobs, because even if I know you must always mismatch a luxury piece to be trendy without ostentation, I’m well aware that there is such a thing as too much mismatch. And no one advises to have, in your Marc Jacob, a dummy, wipes, dried milk from a bottle carried without its cap, mints breeding since six month at the bottom and so on.

End of the aside, today is my second chocolate day. That said, I have doubt as for the possibility to go on in unfazed conditions. No I mention it just like that but after Helmut vomiting 37 times during the bus trip Chatelet – Maison Blanche on Sunday, it’s Darling who has covered her wall for the whole night. According to my calculations, Thingy should barf on his teacher around 16h. The man is planned for Wednesday. As for me, with my crappy karma, I bet on the rear of the pack, on Friday, one or two hours before boarding to London.

Hey, didn’t I tell you? Next week-end, we are going to London for two days with my dear husband, Zaz and her tall Frédé.

Edit: I must be the only blogger going to London without being invited and thus paying for Eurostar and hotel nights. That takes nothing away from my excitement… to sleep for two night without hearing Helmut crying for her 5a.m. bottle. Actually, Cergy Pontoise would maybe have done the trick.

Edit 2: No, Helmut doesn’t sleep through the nights. Well, she did, I think. For about three weeks. She tries to beat a record I guess.

Edit 3: I have a feeling all this is disjointed, isn’t it?

Edit 4: Ok I have a Marc Jacobs AND I’m going to London, which make a detestable girl of me. But since one month all my family members have flu and stomach bug, it makes up for it, doesn’t it?

Edit 5: When I think I didn’t know what to write today.

Edit 6: Ok, I’m showing the inside of my bag, it’s a therapy. Shame inside me is supposed to help me fight my messiness.


Edit 7: It’s also to show the lining I love with luv. Green panther. From anyone else than Marc it’s kind of slutty. And there… it isn’t. Or maybe it is.


[1] TN: in English in the original text

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