I saw the shortest sunrise ever. i woke up-- no movie anymore, BBC news in my headphones and the sun exploded out the window. Dave sleeps still Will he sleep in uproar? at all?

the stewardess came by with a wicker basket full of ice ream bars. good deal. that'll teach dave.

I ate the ice cream and read some of the guide book. The dawn lit up the cabin-- every where I look right now I see sleepers. old mean, young men old women, young women, a couple children, a baby sleeping. even the flight attendants have got the curtains drawn-- I wonder if they sleep there, or drowse. I like looking at the faces. Some foe these people are french, surely. Some english, some other stuff, plenty american.. but i can see a nose I'm sure is gallic. an eyebrows. and cheeks. American skin is differnet... less smoke I suppose. these are not my people-- not all-- and finally. I'm happy.

finally. dave is impossible. I dint' know how he does it. he seems to be able to be unconscious as an alternative to boredom. Liquor is free on the flight,. I get two bottles each tie; one goes in my backpack under my feet one goes down my throat. I can't tell why I'm not sleeping. I look at dave's long lashes and feel a bit bitter-- no long eyelashes nor sleep beneath them for me. I'll watch the movie.

Dave's sleeping. I'm not sure how he does it. I haven't in-- 37 hours no. I'm counting. My hip joints hurt. and my eyes feel like they have a film on them. I must look like hell-- i dint' dare go look. He looks pretty. he has long eye lashes. he's not what I want-- i want to be somewhere else. in 2 more hours our flight will leave. finally.

ALL APRIL ENTRIES ARE FICTION there is no dave. i twas an expirament to seeif I could blog a novel. I can't, btw.
I threw up right after I got off the plane. Dave was okay. He waited with my backpack. I brushed my teeth after-- I suppose he won't know. I don't' like the way this airport smells. or looks. it's too 70's. Yet...

For a second as we approached, as we circles I saw field so unlike home, so perfectly tamed, I felt that this was why i came. i think they know things here, things i need to know.

In the mirror I see my face; horrible. black eyes in black circles, hair sticking up despite it's length, nose and cheeks redish... out the door I see Dave paler than ever, eyes bluer than ever, hair blacker? he's completely saturated in the morning light. He's too much to look at, as is the chrome and tile of charles de gaulle. I wish I'd slept.