The problem with living out your weird inner life in public (and I’m not good at navigating both worlds simultaneously): So I’m walking back through the village with the baby and I turn a corner and there, coming down this narrow little street, is this hot pink balloon caught in a channel of wind, just sort of drifting and bobbing about, like the plastic bag from American Beauty, and the contrast between the hot pinkness and the old French cream colored buildings was so NICE, and I went for my camera but couldn’t get it out in time and the balloon blew past me. But I still wanted the photo, so I decided I would get the balloon and set the shot up all over again, so then it was me and this baby in green pajamas chasing after the pink balloon (unsuccessfully – it was blowing all over the place) when all of the sudden I realized there was an old guy in a beret sitting in a doorway, so quiet I hadn’t noticed him, watching the whole thing and laughing silently. There’s really no way to recover your dignity and look cool after chasing a pink balloon. He said something to me about the wind in between giggles but I was too embarrassed to do anything except retreat. Between going into full screaming labor in the middle of the park and now this, I’m pretty sure the town thinks I’m insane. And I didn’t even get the photo. 😦





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