November 2008 Archives

So, other than putting my foot up, guess what I'm doing on my super exciting housebound Friday night?

Making custom ringtones for my iphone.

Phil, you've got GoGoGoJoseph.

Ok, that's all I've done so far, but I'm only just getting started! The question remains : who will be next? and what song should I give them?

Seriously, if this Friday night got any hotter the place would be on fie-aaarrrrr.

(Ps. Self-pity aside, thankyou to all the people who have offered to come and visit me during my toe-valesence. The first couple of weeks were pretty tough, and I'm not a very social sick person which is why I said no to all the offers to wipe my poor sick brow... Now? I'm going to break down the front door with my crutch if Sylvain doesn't let me out soon!)

(Pps. Sylvain is not actually keeping me hostage and it is in my own best interest that I stay inside and not move around too much. And this is totally only temporary. But still. Self-created drama is keeping me highly entertained during my house arrest.)

So, I was supposed to go back to work this week. Then an infection set in, which (after an emergency trip to the surgeon to make sure I didn't need to go back under the knife) has set me back another week.

First was the happy meds. Then was the novelty of being able to watch endless bad tv while lying on the couch (finally the life of a lady of leisure, even if there was pain involved). Then I started working from home, knowing that this will mean I don't have to work 20 hours a day when I go back, even though I'm on an arrêt de travail and am really not supposed to be working, but I get so much more work done at home. Then Sylvain brought me a present, to make up for the fact that he keeps yelling at me to use the crutch to get around instead of walking on the side of my foot (ie. a twisted ankle waiting to happen).

But all these things are good in small doses.

Now I'm going totally stir-crazy and am starting to climb the walls with frustration. I am not used to being cooped up like this. The other day? I actually voluntarily spent ten minutes answering a customer service questionnaire over the phone. I am even considering a forbidden shuffle down to the supermarket just so I can have a conversation with someone other than Sylvain and Symphony.

If I don't do that, I fear I might end up shaking my fist at the young'uns who are camped out under our window at lunchtime and thinking that equates human contact.

I need my toe to get better already.

By the way, will you be in Paris on the December 6?

Sylvain came home from the market this morning with plenty of bounty. Figs bursting with sugar and bunches of flourishing coriander. He also brought home some langoustine, winkles and telline.

Sylvain will be cooking the winkles (bigorneaux) using his mum's traditional recipe (basically boiling 'em for a few minutes with stuffs in the water, which we'll then eat with home-made mayonnaise), then we're planning to pan-fry the telline open with chunks of garlic and coriander (a portugese recipe), followed by a small garlicky pasta dish with the langoustine tails.

I've never tried telline before but have seen them often on the shoreline and I love any type of seafood, as long as it's fresh. The langoustine are going to be divine, but I'm feeling a bit guilty about the winkles.

They were crawling out of the bag when Sylvain brought them home, then he came into the lounge room with one in his hand, its little antennae waving about curiously, and said, "say hello to Monsieur Bigorneau!"

And I'm pretty sure, as I'm typing this out, that I just heard him murmuring to them again in the kitchen.