Me, me, me.

I called Alexander exactly on time, he was waiting for his luggage at the airport, so he was already in Geneva and it was soon enough so he wouldn't think I don't care. We arrange to meet 1800 Place Neuve in front of the Opera. Where the hell is that? I must thank Google Earth, as usual Mr Google knows everything. A friend of mine used to say 'if it's not on google, it doesn't exist' and also 'Google is God, Msnmessenger is Jesus'. I guess Facebook just phased Jesus out, kind of like Eve did to Margo on the Mankiewicz film. See, I always got to pretend smart.

Go down Rue de l'Athenée, then keep going down Rue de la Croix Rouge and bam, there's Alexander waiting for me. I hate me. See, again always a little bit late, always a little bit on a rush. We enter the Cinema and ask for two beers. I drink before cheering, showing off my politeness again. First thing we settle down is the pronounciation of my name, it's kind of tricky. In catalan you don't pronounce the 'i' before an 'x', it's only there to make the 'x' sound 'sh'.

I was gonna write about Alexander right away, but I think he deserves an entry all by himself. An entry where I stop talking all about myself.