I remember buying the New Super Mario Bros. in Wii. I wanted to go back to my apartment to play it alone, but instead I decided to go straight to my brother’s place and surprise my nephew. I was a little disappointed to find that my nephew went grocery shopping with his mother so while waiting for him, I began to play my new game.

It was genius.

I didn’t realize that my nephew arrived, but when he did, we played all that weekend and we forgot about everything else.

It was one of the best moments of 2010.

And then I saw a photo in Facebook that shows that the Tanooki suit will be back in the next release. Looks awesome.

While we danced to Lady Gaga’s Disco Stick, I looked at the DJ and he looked at me. He gestured for me to come to his booth and I was unsure if he was talking to me, but I came anyway.

“So I played Lady Gaga, which I normally don’t do because I don’t like Lady Gaga,” he shouted over the loud music.

“Thank you,” was all I could answer.

The DJ was kinda cute, with piercing blue eyes and a boyish charm.

“OK, so normally I would like a kiss in return,” he said.

I was a little bit shocked by his request.

“Where?” I asked.

He pointed to his lips.

I shook my head.

“Sorry, but I’m with my boyfriend.”

“What?” he asked.

“Je suis avec mon copain!” I shouted in French.

And then he just touched his right cheek for me to kiss.

I kissed his right cheek very lightly I wasn’t even sure it happened.

And then I went back to dancing with my friends.

A few months ago, I followed him on Twitter. And then I actually mentioned him in one of my tweets and he actually replied to me.

How cool is that?

Way cool.

5 minutes before 11pm, I opened my balcony, poured some coke on my glass, took out one cigratte from the newly opened pack, and made myself comfortable into a nice sitting position. I looked at the glittering lights of the Eiffel Tower as I light up one cigarette and take the first puff. The first puff is always the best.

Just as I was thinking about nothing and everything, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked around to see who the hell entered my room without knocking. And there he was, smiling and arranging his hat, his midnight blue eyes laughing at me. Sam Merlotte.

“What the hell are you doing here? Who let you in?” I asked, but deep inside I was happy to see him here in my room.

“Jean Philippe,” he said.

His eyes were really mocking me. I felt so busted for having been caught smoking. This was so not part of my sweet plan.

“Come here,” he said.

“I can’t. I’m smoking.”

“I can see that. Throw it.”

I looked at him and then I looked at my cigarette.

“I don’t wanna throw it. You come here.”

“Ok then, bye.”

I looked at him with pleading eyes.

And then he laughed and approached me. I offered my cheek for him to kiss.

“I don’t care,” he said.

He kissed me on the lips, long and sweet.

Then he was gone.

I felt a shiver ran down my spine. I didn’t know if that incident ever happened or if I dreamed the whole thing. It just felt so real.

I woke up feeling giddy and uncertain about the future.

In Cannes, there’s a big mural of Marilyn just beside the train station. I don’t get lost here – I just have to follow this mural to find my way back to take the bus to Nice.