Sunday Phone Calls from Friends

Call 1.
"Hello Florence, it's Pierre. Are you feeling better? I want to take you to the Opera. Do you like the Opera?"
"No. I don't want to go. I don't like the Opera." I reply coldly, since I'm finished going out with him. There's no reply on the other end. I break the silence with, "I like ballet."
"Ah, okay, then. We shall go together to the ballet. I will call you later." he replies enthusiastically.
"Okay." I reply buying more time to do nothing with him.
"Eat something and rest." he advises before hanging up.
"Thanks. Good-bye." I say.

Call 2.
"Hey Florence, are you feeling better?" asks the new and improved co-worker property manager after calling me.
"A little, it comes and goes." I reply.
"Do you need anything?" He offers.
I smile at the sincere concern in his voice. Wow, does he really care? I wonder.
"No thanks. Not right now." I answer, happy to hear that he even offered.
"Okay, I'll touch bases with you later." he says.
"Thanks. Good-bye". I reply

Call3.
"Hello Florence, how are you feeling?" it's Eric from the Conversation Group.
"I'm getting better, but not completely over it yet." I tell him.
He laughs. We laugh together.
"I know, you are going to have to call me every two days to see if I'm better." I tell him.
"Okay. When would you like to go out to dinner?" he wants to know.
"How about Wednesday, since it's a French holiday. Maybe we could try a French lunch since I don't have class and you won't be working?" I ask.
"That sounds great. Okay, I will meet you on Wednesday." he says.
We make plans for our French Restaurant excursion and end the call.

Call4.
"Oh Florence, my dear, Are you feeling better?" It's Elisabeth (from the Conversation Group with the home in Marseille).
"Yes, I'm better. Thanks." I say, wondering why I don't just tell everyone that I really feel like crap and I have no idea when I will feel better.
"Oh good. Since Wednesday is a French Holiday, I was wondering if you could take over the Wednesday French-English Conversation group?" she wants to know, adding "You can say No, if you don't want to."
"Sure. I plan to have lunch with Eric, but I'm sure we will be finished by 3:00." I say.
"Oh, great. Okay, get your rest sweetheart." she says.
"Okay. Thanks." I reply.

Call5
"Hello Florence." I hear a very nice voice over the phone. It's Roger. "The Very Nice Man". calling from the U.S. Out of all the men I know (okay, I'll admit I have more male 'friends' than female. Maybe it's becuase I've been surrounded by men in the Militay...anyway...) This is one man that I really, really, like. He's kind, attractive, and smart. He's the kind of friend I would kiss (and maybe tell about, maybe not) but he lives more than 50,000 miles away, so for now, I'll keep dreaming...
We have a wonderful, inspiring conversation for a loooong time before ending with a promise to keep in touch.

So..."That was my Sunday evening of phone calls", I write as I wonder how many people out there reading really care about my phone calls in a blog? Sometimes I wonder why I blog, but remind myself; I love to write. This is like my 'therapy', and when I'm 80 years old, I might enjoy reading what my first year of living in Paris was really like, while sharing my personal life with God Only knows who's reading this.

After one year, my plans are to have this all printed and bound in a blog book for me...feel free to keep reading as I continue to follow my dream of making a life here in Paris.