It started with a body scanner thing at the airport in LAX, I finally got 'randomly selected', and my paperwork is entirely screwed now since I'm on file in the USA as a synthetic cargo. No Frenchie was gonna tell Captain Fucking Squarejaw anything so the rest of my trip to Paris was squished in somewhere next to Vikki. At least America is safe from me for now. At least in Paris an official apologized to me personally but the process took so long we missed our connecting flight to Venice. Screw it, I have a week's holiday left and we'll hire a car.

Parisian officials gave me a copy of the LAX body scan, tho, it's supposed to be a surface scan but it gave some strange readings of pockets of internals. I asked for an appointment with my doctor in Venice but they're backed up a couple weeks, that's okay, I have an appointment with a local alchemical dentist here in Paris tomorrow, maybe he can poke around in my mouth and see if there's any sign of the magilatex receding back down my pipe. It's gorgeous as lipstick, but has me wanting to kiss anything and anyone.

After the ride in cargo again I'm having trouble breathing and staying breathing. When I forget to I just stop. I'll just stay calm. Taxi's here, and I haven't unpacked Vikki, hehe. She can be my little squirmie pillow while we rest in a hotel for the rest of the day and maybe this migraine goes away. I don't get it, I was fine until we landed and got into the terminal. Maybe it's altitude. Hahaha I'm staying on Rue Amélie hahaha