Ze weekend, it was good

May I start with a statement many of you will probably find insipid, if not downright stupid?
I fail to see what parties are good for. Except of course getting food and drink stains on one's carpets, furniture and, if one is especially lucky, curtains.
I like going out with people, be it for dinner or drinks or culture. But having to be on my feet for hours and hours just isn't my thing. So I tend to sit down at some point, and just wait for people to come by and sit with me, which usually works. Still, parties... I wasn't really in a party mood on Saturday, either, and there was this woman sitting obstinately next to me, and... To make a long story short, I left shortly before 1 a.m., because I really wasn't feeling like even more small talk. Plus, not being able to drink anything except for a bit of red wine and eat anything except for a little potato salad probably wasn't conducive to boundless enjoyment of the event.
Re. the obstinately sitting woman: do you know that feeling of alarm bells going off in your head, when somebody talks to you in a certain way? The lady in question is called Jo, she's British, and she runs an NGO, which is registered both in Macedonia and the UK. She used to work for the UN, and also as a political adviser in 2005's campaign for the presidential elections here in Macedonia. Yes, I believe that working for that particular candidate might have led to some unpleasantness, including threats from the parties of other candidates. But when she told me that she was so well-known here that policemen who caught her speeding didn't give her a ticket, I began to be slightly sceptical. When she told me that she's been to see some exclusive private doctor because of a heart problem, and that the day after her visit she'd received a phone call from Bad Party asking her whether she was ok, I began to harbour serious doubts. Probably I'm jaded and distrustful and generally a bitch, but all this "being so well-known is such a curse!" blather didn't sound at all truthful to me. Besides, I don't appreciate being slapped when I rub my arm, merey because the lady thought I was scratching my mosquito bites. Nor do I appreciate being told that I must have an allergy to mosquitoes, because of the bites being slightly swollen, and that she had that great ointment, which she was going to give me... Honestly. What a royal pain in the arse.
New levels of sports insanity obsession have been reached on Saturday and Sunday: on Saturday I went running after tennis, i.e. at 1 p.m., and lo, it was hot. Yesterday I did it before tennis, and it was a little less hot, but still rather taxing. OTOH, so long as I'm feeling no ill effects and drinking a lot, I don't think it can be bad for me. Not if it makes me feel good, which it does.
I've been very disciplined so far re. Babylon5 -- I still like it, but since I remember the 1st season quite well it's more a refreshing of my memory than that all-consuming desire to know what's next.
Oh, and I found a true gem: for all of you who like black, slightly twisted humour, you have to watch The Men Who Stare at Goats. The cast is exceptional, the plot hilarious, and especially George Clooney and Jeff Bridges surpass themselves. It's the story of a top-secret US army unit, called the New Earth Army, which tries to produce super-soldiers by, well let's say unorthodox means, of which LSD might be the most harmless, and of the hunt for the founder of this unit right in the middle of the Iraq war. The biodegradable knuckle duster was just one of the things that almost made me choke on my tea. Not to mention Sergeant Eckheimer (I think), who can lift sandbags on hooks attached to his scrotum, and the critical question of one of the supersoldiers-in-training, "And what would be the practical application of this, Sir?"

Just for the record, Freud has struck again: I was supposed to go to the lab today -- our doctor of confidence had arranged it all, probably including a red carpet -- and of course I put juice in my tea *again*! That's the problem with being on autopilot till about 7 a.m. But I'll put a reminder on my cell phone, which also doubles as alarm, for tomorrow 6.32 a.m., so that ought to work. I hope it does.