298. Being back to Pizzeria La Bottega Della, this time with no one recently getting engaged and no one secretly pregnant (or, the pregnancy is still a secret).
Some of the things we learn during dinner:
Some of the things we learn during dinner:
& The list of objects in the sky includes, among others, rain, rainbow, double-rainbow, sky jumpers, rocks, lightning, parachutes, god, angels, underwear, lullaby, toilets, and of course "the stuff that comes out of the toilet".
& No, you do not drink wine with pizza. (Unless you are in Brussels. Then it is OK.)
& One of us -- who most of the time seems like an angel -- does not want to meet some Italian politician, in fear of not being able to resist slapping him.
& Another of us -- who most of the time seems like the personification of meditation and Japanese gardens, except when talking to me -- does not want to meet Megan Fox, in fear of not being able to resist "doing things that I should not do," which does not involve slapping. At least not in the same way the aforementioned angel would slap a certain Italian politician.
299. A tiny, crowded pub. I'm sitting here in a boring room... comes Fool's Garden on the loud speakers. "Lemon Tree!" I happily point out what everyone else already knows. For the last half an hour or so, Princess Peach and Yoshi have been singing along apparently famous songs of the 80s and 90s, with Professor E. Gadd bobbing head along the music (whenever he is not staring dreamily at Rosalina) and Mario quietly enjoying the familiar tunes, while I have been looking at them blankly, recognizing almost no song.
I'm driving around in my car. I'm driving too fast I'm driving too far, I start singing.
I'd like to change my point of view. I feel so lonely I'm waiting for you, but nothing ever happens. And I wonder, Princess Peach and Yoshi join in.
I wonder how, I wonder why, Professor E. Gadd gets into the action.
Yesterday you told me about the blue blue sky, and all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree, even shy Rosalina is singing.
I'm turning my head up and down, I sing while looking at Mario meaningfully ("Sing with us!"), who looks back at me equally meaningfully ("No I won't!") and continues to quietly enjoy the catchy song.
I'm turning turning turning turning turning around, and all that I can see is just another lemon tree, the impromptu, possibly one-off backup band is enthusiastic.
"Jesus we are getting old," says Professor E. Gadd suddenly, "we are getting excited about Lemon Tree being on..."
300. Way past midnight. I am in my living room, Zoe in hers. We are chitchatting, while waiting for Gaston to connect his Wii to Zoe's, setting up an epic Mario Kart race across Brussels. "So, what did you buy today?" asks Zoe on my Mac screen. It is July, one of the only two months that Brussels can have official sales, unlike in Australia where you can have sales on Boxing Day, in June -- the end of the financial year, in winter, in summer, in autumn and in spring. Glancing at Gaston who is still busy pressing seemingly random buttons on the Wii control, I start typing to Zoe on Skype.
Noticing that I have switched from talking to typing, Gaston is suspicious, "What did you buy?" "I'm not going to tell you," I say, unsuccessfully trying to suppress an embarrassed smile, and wondering to myself why I am embarrassed about these things when this guy has undressed in front of me. Not giving Gaston a chance to continue asking, I turn to the Mac screen, "do you remember in When Harry Met Sally... 'where was Sunday?' " Zoe knows exactly what I am referring to. "Yes, did you get those??" "Yep, they were so cute..." "Where did you get them?" Zoe asks. For a split second I wonder if Gaston knows of the shop and decide, wrongly, that being a boy, he does not. "Women's Secret," I tell Zoe. "Aha! I know what you bought now!" Gaston instantly exclaims, and I belatedly realize, that being a boy, of course he does.
299. A tiny, crowded pub. I'm sitting here in a boring room... comes Fool's Garden on the loud speakers. "Lemon Tree!" I happily point out what everyone else already knows. For the last half an hour or so, Princess Peach and Yoshi have been singing along apparently famous songs of the 80s and 90s, with Professor E. Gadd bobbing head along the music (whenever he is not staring dreamily at Rosalina) and Mario quietly enjoying the familiar tunes, while I have been looking at them blankly, recognizing almost no song.
I'm driving around in my car. I'm driving too fast I'm driving too far, I start singing.
I'd like to change my point of view. I feel so lonely I'm waiting for you, but nothing ever happens. And I wonder, Princess Peach and Yoshi join in.
I wonder how, I wonder why, Professor E. Gadd gets into the action.
Yesterday you told me about the blue blue sky, and all that I can see is just a yellow lemon tree, even shy Rosalina is singing.
I'm turning my head up and down, I sing while looking at Mario meaningfully ("Sing with us!"), who looks back at me equally meaningfully ("No I won't!") and continues to quietly enjoy the catchy song.
I'm turning turning turning turning turning around, and all that I can see is just another lemon tree, the impromptu, possibly one-off backup band is enthusiastic.
"Jesus we are getting old," says Professor E. Gadd suddenly, "we are getting excited about Lemon Tree being on..."
300. Way past midnight. I am in my living room, Zoe in hers. We are chitchatting, while waiting for Gaston to connect his Wii to Zoe's, setting up an epic Mario Kart race across Brussels. "So, what did you buy today?" asks Zoe on my Mac screen. It is July, one of the only two months that Brussels can have official sales, unlike in Australia where you can have sales on Boxing Day, in June -- the end of the financial year, in winter, in summer, in autumn and in spring. Glancing at Gaston who is still busy pressing seemingly random buttons on the Wii control, I start typing to Zoe on Skype.
Noticing that I have switched from talking to typing, Gaston is suspicious, "What did you buy?" "I'm not going to tell you," I say, unsuccessfully trying to suppress an embarrassed smile, and wondering to myself why I am embarrassed about these things when this guy has undressed in front of me. Not giving Gaston a chance to continue asking, I turn to the Mac screen, "do you remember in When Harry Met Sally... 'where was Sunday?' " Zoe knows exactly what I am referring to. "Yes, did you get those??" "Yep, they were so cute..." "Where did you get them?" Zoe asks. For a split second I wonder if Gaston knows of the shop and decide, wrongly, that being a boy, he does not. "Women's Secret," I tell Zoe. "Aha! I know what you bought now!" Gaston instantly exclaims, and I belatedly realize, that being a boy, of course he does.
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