Friday, October 31, 2008

This week

Monday : as usual, counting down the days till the Us election, and wondering if there's anywhere in France that sells Obama T shirts. Worried. Canal Plus shows Democrat farmers answering the question "why won't you vote for him?" by "because he's a fucking nigger". Roommate dearest runs off to Belgium, leaving me alone with the cat and those insane workers overhauling our street.
walking back, minding my own business, one of them stops in front of me and says "well, smile". Like duh, I am so going to smile at a forty year old fat construction worker. Oh yeah..

Tuesday: was late, ran to uni without umbrella and in ballet pumps. It started raining. Got there, saw everyone outside, and firemen and firetrucks all over the place. They left us outside for thirty five minutes in the pouring rain, and some dude said it was an evacuation exercise. Three years in that uni and there's never once been one. The place probably caught fire and they're hushing it up, it's in that bad a state. So it never did stop raining, I failed an exam, and got home drenched, with my jeans having turned my bag and feet blue. Needless to say, I was not impressed.

Wednesday : still pouring, went to chinese lab and found a puddle in the corridor-there was a leak in the fucking ceiling, and this was on the second floor. There are six floors. I feel sorry for the philosophy majors who're all the way up there. And went to watch the young communist's information meeting with a couple friends, one of whom strikes fear in the hearts of teachers ( and a lot of other people) cause she always find sthe weak spot; so we turned up to keep ourselves informed this time (unlike last year, n'est-ce pas) and had a great time watching them go for each other throats. I love their internal strife. It's great fun to watch.

Thursday : last day! they gave us friday off for some reason. No-one knows why, and no-one 's complaining. Went to sleep in british civilisation again. Most boring class ever.
Bussed back to the parent's, and went out with a bunch of mates in the evening in the dead, dead town we used to live in. One pub open and man were they glad to see us. Great fun.

And friday today. No Hallowe'en, it's not that followed here, and honestly I can't be bothered. Spent the day wrestling with internet to get my bus tickets to Cadiz. I am skiving off to Spain next week. Fun and Games!

Saturday, October 18, 2008


Can someone tell me if this article is really what life is like for girls in Britain now?
The WAG lifestyle is really becoming the main priority?
If this is true...Jesus Christ am I glad I live in France and have no intention of going back to Britain anytime soon. My latest plan is to move to Maastricht but that's a whole different story.
I mean, seriously. It's prostitution in nicer terms, for god's sake. It's demeaning, it's humiliating, and infantilising.
How can they be surprised when their footballer husbands cheat on them? After all, they owe everything to them, their money, their social position- I bet the guys feel entitled to whatever they damn please. Eurgh. The thought makes me feel sick.
I just don't understand why you'd want to be dependent on someone in this way. Maybe it's the easy way out. Maybe I'm uptight-and yet no-one describes me like that :) But I just can't get my head around it. I want a good job, my own money, the choice to do whatever I damn well please without having to wait for a man or ask his advice. No way.

Friday, October 3, 2008

I'd rather Edit myself

Well, the last three weeks have been rather eventful, to say the least.

The Best Friend started sleeping (she calls it having a relationship with a defined end) with Rico, which sent me around the bend shortly, and then when I sorted it out the next day, they spent the rest of the week going paranoid on my ass. Mainly because my classes started and I couldn't make the trip down to Marseille.
So I spent a week wondering about things, about why I was this confused, relationships, also sorting out stuff with the boyfriend, helping him move in last weekend, going to Marsatac (brilliant festival over three days in Marseille).
And of course starting classes, going back to uni, seeing all the people there, being unpleasant with a teacher i had last year who has a veneration for english speakers but doesn't rememver either my name or my face, anyway let's say the forty people in that class know my name now.
Anyway, I found out that Agathe was rather pissed at me, while I'd been really mad at her.
Fun and games.
I'm slowly sorting myself out, after telling the Best Friend she hadn't actually listened to me for three months.
On the other hand, I get the feeling that once more, she hasn't listened. Only taking in account the fact that I didn't sit her down and tell her whatever was on my mind. But she's known me for thirteen years. She knows I'm not like that. That I need time to spit things out.
I knew she'd judge me. And she did.

As I said, I'd rather edit myself. Edit the bad stuff, the embarrassing stuff, all that. Edit certain conversations-too many conversations. Edit certain admissions. Oh yes.