Friday, August 8, 2008

Thursday, 7. August 2008.
Frances comes in the morning to pick me up by the house.
Now, if you had seen me in the last couple of years, you know who Frances is. We have done so much together and hung out so much together that most people assumed we were a couple.
We played in the same basketball team, we coached together a basketball team, we played tennis together, went hiking a lot, went to vegetarian dinners and barbecues together, ... We'd be hanging out together for 3-4 days a week. For those 2 years we were big parts of each other's lives and you can often catch me saying "my best friend in Rome" or even just "my best friend" (although my 2 best friends are both male and Croatian and I had known them for a few decades now).
So, she picks me up and we go to a nice Mexican restaurant near the lake and just a block away from Recycled Cycles, where we stop afterwards (remember, I still have to buy bike bags for my bike).
Then we drop by a post office where I have to ship my backpack and a few other things to Peter Ki in New York when my credit card decides not to collaborate. Fortunately, like endless times before, Frances helps out and the packages get shipped.
We go to her place. I've only seen it on a photo so far, It's a cool hose with a nice dining room/kitchen on the first floor, bedrooms upstairs and sort of a garage/work place downstairs.
We're soon back in town and I finally get those bags off a bike shop for 120 dollars. Sizewise, those were the cheapest on the market, since I had no luck finding them used.
I go to Debra's place to pack and Frances goes home.
At Debra's it's a full house. A young couple that lives in the same building is buying Lisa's old Vespa. Then another couple from the floor above is there for some chatting too. Shortly afterwards Frances joins us, so it's a total of 8 people.
Debra treats us with pizza and we stay up late playing "Time's Up".
I say goodbye to Frances and fix the last things on the bike so I'm ready to go in the morning.

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