Some silly Quizz

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Hmmm, a difficult choice.
Probably the scary evangelical dude I saw on Tv the other day who argued that his was the only right religion because it was tolerant of all other religions and so was the basis of religious freedoms in america. DUH.

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Who will it be?

Johnny Halliday

3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

The guy who's stalking and harassing the Best Friend.

4. What is your favorite cheese?

Goat's cheese. I looooveee goat's cheese, which is why we don't buy it often cause I eat it all.
And I live in the country of cheese. is bliss. I feel so sorry for those dieting people-they don't know what they're missing!

5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind of sandwich will you eat?

something very British, with cheese and pickle and cress and stuff. Loooove that.

6. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?

errrrmmmmmmm...Do I get to pick Heath Ledger? Otherwise...Marc André Grondin, a french canadian actor.

7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music celebrity of your choice, who will it be?

Kanye West, so I can check why he has such a big ego :) or the Hocus Pocus singer (French)

8. Now that you've slept with two people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. What do you buy?

oooohh...something totally futile. Maybe more books, or clothes or something. Nothing useful.

9. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Spain. I have people to see there :) and then Australia, cause i have people to see there too.

10. An angel appears out of heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the beverage of your choice. It is?

Tea (teh Brit is back!)

11. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anywhere in the PAST. Where do you go?

Oh man, the past isn't that attractive^^ maybe the late sixties, just to know what all the fuss was about.

12. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

I make all the rules. None of that silly democracy here!

13. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it?

Something interesting^^ I'll get back to you later.

14. What is your favorite curse word?

In English? definitely fuck
In french it could be putain, merde, putain de bordel de merde, sombre pute and so many others and no I won't translate

15. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, what do you do?

run screaming

16. Your house is on fire! What do you do?

do my best to sort us out

17. The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?

Call to joke around before I leave? Or have mind blowing sex. Either is good.

18. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and whats even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What super-power is it?

The ability to stop time and then restart it whenever I wanted.

19. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

I really don't know.

20. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Anytime that involves feeling ill and helpless

21. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check this out you can move anywhere. Where are you going?

Italy? Spain?Canada?nah, too cold. Australia? New Zealand?

22. This question still counts, even for those of you who are under age, if you were banned from every bar in the world except one, which one would it be?

Shite, this one sucks. I frequent too many bars for this to be possible.

23. Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question... If you did, then we'll just expound on that. Check it out… Suddenly, you have gained the ability to fly! Whose house are you going to fly to first, and be like "Check it out I can FLY!?"

Best Friend's.

24. The constant absorption of magical moon beams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous person of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?

Heath Ledger? Paul Newman? Kurt Cobain? Stop asking difficult questions.

Other people say it better

This is what I'd like to write.

I can't.
I relate to what's said, and totally agree.
Somehow it doesn't seem to affect me on an emotional level. Intellectually, I see the logic, I agree with it, I am revolted by it.
I'm the kind of girl who screams blue murder if something pisses her off. I try and catch people out on their sexism, at very least. But I've never felt that being who I am stops me from going anywhere. Privilege, I guess.
I've had the feeling that reacting differently in some ways could change some things-like, being less aggressive at times would make more people like me-but then I stop and think, hey, if I was a man, would they be bothered?
It's good for a man to be aggressive, confident, secure. Women shouldn't be. Of course we need a man to save us, to run back to in times of need.
Men are afraid of a woman with brains, and will try to browbeat us into submission.
Because we should be meek.
I've been meek. That didn't work out so well for me. I was shy, and miserable, and scared.
I grew out of it.
I'm still scared. Of taking risks, of relationships, of a lot of stuff, but I try.
I'm not conventionally scary.At all.
But get to know me, and you know I don't let myself be taken advantage of. I want independence.I don't want to have to rely on someone else to support me.
I won't beg.
I won't beg.
In my experience, men love it. They love the stereotype of the poor hapless and helpless female. Which is why my looks are popular. I look like that. I look like I need protecting. I look dollish, cute, delicate.
Well I'm not.

I broke up with my boyfriend recently. I feel a lot freer.
The boyfriend was-and is- a good man. But he's insecure, and accuses me of neglect instead of facing the fact that this is who I am. I never pretended otherwise.
That i don't NEED a man to be complete. I haven't been polluted by all the Bridget Joneses. Marriage is not my aim. My education is my goal.Creating opportunities and experiences, none of which have to include a relationship, although they probably will, since I enjoy the company of men.
And you'll always come after.

I'm angry at all the friends who have been lecturing me on how I should change to accomodate his neediness. On how it's a shame we broke up, why let ten happy months together go to waste, you were so sweet together, bla fucking bla.
Why a shame? a relationship is not a vital need.
Ten months is nothing although it was my longest relationship. And it wasn't always happy.
And I don't want to be "sweet" with someone. That sounds so childish. I'd rather date an equal. Someone not afraid to stand up to me, without crushing me either.
What are the odds of my finding that at Nineteen?
I'm nineteen. I have the rest of my life for this kind of shit.
I have time.
So much time, however fast it flies.

Perhaps it's true. It was my fault. But I don't care, which no-one seems to grasp. I won't take responsibility for his going crazy now.
I don't care whether I was right or wrong.
I just refuse to compromise when everyone is trying to make me.

It might be plain stubbornness, but it is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHAT I DO WITH MY LIFE.
Friends or not.

Night owls

It's 2:28 am.

I love nighttime conversations.
They bring out the flirt in me (not that it's very hidden,but, well).
I love the conversations, in appearance totally innocent, but often with an undertone you can just detect.
The double-entendres-my speciality, apparently i have a warped mind, but it's just so easy.
the undertone of sex that comes along (with certain people, of course).
Knowing that certain words will plant ideas in the other's head. The repartee.
Doing it in French-i'm sorry, but Anglos are just too shy, most of this time, for this to work.
It never fails to bring a smile, especially when it's with someone especially talented with his words.
And just-leaving enough ambiguity for possible denial.
After all, these things shouldn't be dealt with over the internet, or even by phone.
That's just so...flat. And platonic.
Not that conversations can't be extremely erotic, no way.
But you just can't seal the deal (what a horrible expression) like that.
It just takes all the fun out of it if anything's certain.

Thoughts on a Friday

The rest of the blogging world's writing abilities terrifies me.
I just do not feel up to it.
Proof of my inability to communicate clearly and interestingly could be found in my lack of readers. Which I complain about a lot.
On the other hand, why does one write? It's definitely not to get my point of view out there; it's just not interesting enough.
Then it only leaves what we call "branlette intellectuelle" in a very disparaging way. Translation? Brain masturbation, alhough masturbation is too correct.Brain wanking?Whatever; I do love French slang.
Maybe I'm being a bit harsh and it's only to go on, and on, and on, because i find it very therapeutic.

Shut up, Froufrou, and try to remember what it was you were actually going to talk about.

Oh yes.
Language.
I'm always interested in anything about it because it's something i've spent my life wondering about.
Like, why is my voice higher in English than in French?
Or why on earth did I have today a total rejection of French? I just didn't want it. So I kept conversation to a minimum-which is complicated- and sauntered over to Prince Charming, my only English mate here, and we chatted away happily to the confusion of the guys next to him.
If the whole year doesn't know we're the only two Brits around by now, I'll be damned.
But I hide it pretty well :)
Seriously, I only appreciate being totally bilingual when i'm studying another language.
I love being able to tell all the nuances of both languages, unlike in Chinese, or in italian, although it's a LOT easier. I know i have an easier access to foreign languages than most people i know; being French or Anglosaxon seems to be a distinct disadvantage! But already knowing two makes it easier to add others on.
Except for Chinese, although it's slightly better since Ms F actually forces us all to talk in her own sweet way,and we're not stuck with the terrifying LLCE geniuses.
Although there are a lot of people who speak chinese extremely well in my class. Which is why I feel like a loser most days, but there all very nice, which is a bonus.

I often hear about English speakers using French words in English after spending some time here.
That's something I should, logically, be doing, but I only tend to translate expressions without noticing, and I try to keep a firm grip on that, because it becomes absolute nonsense pretty fast.
But obviously French words in English? That's just weird. Prince Charming does it from time to time, and I have to point it out (I'm slightly fussy about grammar and spelling and all that).
But I don't. Although I've been here for fifteen years now. Jesus.

So next

The boyfriend and I broke up on tuesday (armistice du 11 novembre, yeah happy day!), him ranting about being neglected and metelling him I just didn't have the time. My non-working lazy ass stance has goneout the window. I have to work now, can't just rely on a good memory and certain logic in answers. Feels strange. Now he wants to come back, overcoming his "issues", but I'm not sos ure. If we're to have the same argument ina few weeks, I seriously can't be bothered.
And because of all this, i've had to deal with the flack from MY friends, who have all sided with him and toldme it was my fault, because I MUST have neglected him, because I'm an intimidating distant bitch.
Now I didn't take that too kindly, because for Chrissakes, i'll never understand how anyone can find me intimidating. I mean, seriously. I'm 1.65 cm( 5 foot 4, the internet concerter tells me), my features are dollish (small and pouty-I look "nice", for some reason), i giggle and laugh and paint my nails and flirt. How intimidating does that sound?
True, i'm not half as easy-going as I look, i argue my way out of corners, am contrary as hell, and like holding on to my opinions if I can back them up, read far too many feminist blogs and I like getting my own way.
Is it because I'm a girl? I doubt it. I get on well with guys in general, and no-one's ever dared tell me women were inferior.
Except one in high school, but he always was an idiot who got his hair braided with blue and white beads when he was in the west Indies, so no-one took him very seriously, to his grief and resentment.
I don't believe in changing yourself to accomodate people around you.
I'm a privileged person. A very privileged person. So I'm not going to talk about being oppressed or whatnot, because what would i know about it? the only issue I could really come close to is sexism, and I don't encounter that that often, strangely enough.

I know France is a patriarchal country. It's not a hidden fact. But I don't believe in promoting people because they're female.
Dear Leader did just that; half of his ministers are female, and three of those are from ethnic minorities.
Problem is, they're pretty bad.

Our economy minister, Christine Lagarde is alright for the moment. She's been rather shadowed by Sarkozy, like most ministers, so I don't know. As far as i'm aware, her mind is pretty brilliant.

Christine Boutin is our minister for housing. She's an idiot. Far right anti abortion conservative, and a fool. Don't know why he picked her, of all people. Luckily abortion is just not an issue here. Guess that's what happens when you can get free contraception/abortions if needed. because those young people sure aren't promoting abstinence.^^

Rama Yade is there for decoration. She's supposed to be some sort of Foreign Affairs undersecretary (no translation in my head for her job title, sorry), but she's not actually allowed to do anything. So pointless.

Nadine Morano(secrétaire d'Etat à la famille) and Roselyne Bachelot are both famous for putting their feet in their mouth. And yet bachelot is minister of Youth, Health, and Sports. Another one of sarkozy's dumb ideas, restricting the number of ministers, which lets this woman have one major and two minor. Scary.

Nathalie Kosciusko-Morizet is state secretary for environment. Not much to say although she had to apologize after she called her boss (Borloo) and the parliament boss (Copé) and others an "army of cowards". I think she was complaining about the patriarchy at some point but I can't quite remember, this was a while ago.

As for Rachida Dati, the woman is authoritarian, foolish and full of herself, which is no good fora minister of Justice. For the first time in years, she has managed to rile up EVERY single justice professionnal, the judges, the lawyers,the clerks of court, etcetera.(She's the one who's unmarried and pregnant, not that most people actually care, as far as I know. Aren't we tolerant!lol)

I guess we're not so badly off.

back at last

Well it's been a busy two weeks to say the least.
I'd better cut it in pieces because otherwise I shall never manage.
I'll start rfom the beginning, that is the first week of november.

This week included getting ridiculously excited about the US election, which included checking dad's voting ballot before he sent it(this was ages ago but I've only just remembered), which meant voting yes on Obama! and no on that ridiculous Prop8 thing meant to stop gay couples from getting married. my dad being a liberal person who spent way too much time in LA in the what, seventies if I remember right, he'd already scribbled in the right (to us) box.
Tuesday was nuts. To start off, I fell ill, had to go to the doc's, and subsequently had to cancel my tripto Spain. Rather pissed off and spent the rest of the day feeling sorry for myself and watching election coverage on TV. Kept myself updated until about two am, at which point Obama had won Indiana, and McCain Kentucky (no surprise, no shock my granddad never went back there) and I fell asleep. The boyfriend called me at five am to yell "Obama won!"

You have to admire the man. He kept half of Europe awake all night, even those notorious anti-americans, the French.

let's say I woke up the next day feeling pretty hopeful, although still ill.
We all know it's crazy to expect too much, but it's a symbol for us too, whatever we might say.
No cowboy? No Bush? no dude going on about how the French let America down in 2003? fuck the lot of you, that's all I can say. We're hoping for a new day,too.

Not that Europe isn't going to try to oust America from it's top-dog position. Don't ever count on us being happy to be considered the underdog by America and apparently a lot of its inhabitants.
Dear Leader (Sarkozy, if anyone ever reads me) said only yesterday that the dollar shouldn't be the only main currency (or something like it,I am not providing an accurate translation of the nuances of French). Our Economics teacher harangued us about it only today, and said a lot of weird things I shall talk about later; The man is insane but interesting.

Next part of the week : the boyfriend and I argue and ignore each other until this tuesday.

And went dancing this weekend with Roommate dearest, Roommate dearest's boyfriend, and Eve, which was tremendous fun.

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!

WAGs?

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.

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.

Nostalgia

Back in the student life, or sort of. Moved all I needed back in the flat, moved the flat around a lot, and now am in Marseille.
Rico got here yesterday and I'm so fucking confused.
Rico is a scottish friend I met three years ago on an exchange program me, the best friend, foufounette and other friends participated in. Last time I saw him was a year ago, when I went to Scotland.
I've always had a soft spot the size of an iceberg for him. It used to be the same with him. And it's damn painful to know that it's over.
I seriously miss the way things used to be. I don't know if it's because of him I didn't manage to have a half-assed serious relationship for years; it's a possibility. the same went for him. he hasn't had a proper girlfriend in forever. And i get so jealous when I know he does have someone, which is weird because I'm never jealous. Ever.
It might be the inaccessibility, which says a lot about my mental state (shitty).
But I always have a thing for guys that aren't french.
I don't know if it's the roots striving to come out, saying "you're not fucking French, stop getting it on with French dudes!"
Seriously, I cheated with a Hungarian dancer, and the best lays of my life were Scottish and Canadian. Does it mean anything? I don't know.
But I always feel i connect with english-speaking guys on another level. A part of me the French just cannot get.
It's just...the English parts of me have been so ridden over during the years, years of only speaking French except at home, being the only Brit of my age in a town of 20 000 people, not even having anglophone mates at uni, except for Prince Charming, that I guess that when it all come out...it goes badly.
I went to Scotland four times in five years. It's a place I really love, and it's the place that reconciled me with being a Brit, because growing up I found it kinda difficult.
Some of my best memories are there. And now a whole part of that has just disappeared. No wonder I'm lost, I guess.
I don't know if it's the same for other people. I don't know anyone who's been through the same thing. My flatmate has been through some of the same stuff, cause she's Belgian, and lived in italy from her birth to her fifteenth, but it's not quite the same because she's hardly ever been to Belgium, and came here a lot later than I did. I was five. When I first got here I just wanted to go home. now I'm very grateful that my parents came here, but it's made me somewhat messed-up. Totally messed-up, some would say.
I'm such an in-between person. Not really British, except for what it says on my passport, I lack most of Britain's cultural references, at least on the TV side, since I practically only read in English, I don't understand a good part of what the country is doingto itself, I don't understand all the knife stories and the shyness of the guys and the weird ways of the girls. I don't understand the way they dress, I don't share an insular mentality cause I'm from the continent, I'm just lost in these things.
Not really French, because it's always been made very clear to me that I was a foreigner. Maybe it was harder for me because I'm not visibly foreign, unlike my mother who speaks with "such a cute" english accent and has blue eyes and really fair skin. Unlike my brother who inherited the blond, tall northern genes. And different from my father too, although he comes from two foreign cultures but was born and bred in Paris.
Not really French because I'm just not. I can't imagine saying "I'm French" as I could have, and still could if I applied for French nationality. But that would mean giving up my other nationalities, and I can't; physically can't.
I wish someone could share experiences on this stuff, but as I said, I don't know anyone who could; my flatmate is already a great help. Nationality is one of our recurrent conversation subjects, and one we never find a solution to, except "I'm not French". Although she's a lot closer, being Belgian, but still.
I'm not French. And it affects me in strange ways.

7 years

7 years later. I was in school when we first heard about it, and then went to a history class that the teacher used to tell us what had happened, and about terrorism in general, algeria, the '95 Paris bombings,the ETA, all that stuff, all the terrorism that has happened in Europe.
So where are we now?
No Osama Bin Laden
The world is no safer.
Confusing, isn't it.

Oh, wow

Superfrenchie actually linked to me on his blog. I'm shocked.
Never thought my rambling would actually interest someone :P
Problem is now anyone turning up here is going to think I'm another expat blogger, but I don't see things the same way, as, for example, Petite Anglaise, who can comment on the differences and the weirdness of the French. I'm more likely to comment on the weirdness of the Brits, although I am a Brit. I've been here far too long :D

Back on track

Or not.
Back at the parent's for a couple days to pick up some stuff, after spending a whole week in Marseille when I was only going for a couple days.
Stayed at Best Friend's, since the Boyfriend is a)moving out, and b) working on a beach from 6 am to 12:30. Which didn't stop him from being around most afternoons.
Went to the cinema, met guys in a bar, one of them becoming Best Friend's new love interest, and generally occupying too much space for a couple days, had a going-away party for Pedro, generally got high a lot and tried to get over myself. Met some of Foufounette's business-school friends, Lulu turned up for a day before moving to Spain, heard Peter was back in Marseille yesterday to pick up his driving licence, saw lots of people,watched lots of movies and got over some of my boredom, although now am exhausted and have hundreds of things to do.
Viet is leaving for Japan today and I never got to see her because everytime I made a suggestion she turned it down. Romain, Laurent, Meryl, Fred, Corentin, Cecilia, Manou, Anais,Helio, Lionel, Juliette, so many people are off for a semester or a year.
It's going to be pretty empty.

Richard will be here soon. I can't wait.

Am I a slut?

On-going question ever since I started being sexually active (yeah, I can say that without cringing-clue number one, although I don't know of what)
What is a slut, anyway?
Slut,n.:

1.a. A woman considered sexually promiscuous.

b. A woman prostitute.

2. A slovenly woman; a slattern.

So how does one define sexually promiscuous? Do you count an overall number, or the number of one-night stands? How many VD's one has had? (none, thank god)Whether one takes the pill or not?
People have, in the past, expressed disapproval of how I've behaved. They're likely to go on now, which is why i mostly STFU, and do my own thing.
As long as I want to do it, how does it concern anyone else?
I've never had unprotected sex, I've had one-night stands and fucking friends and now a semiserious relationship, and other relationships, some I considered serious but the other did not, and some I gave up after a couple months.
I've never felt pressured and wouldn't for my life give in to pressure-I'm too fucking stubborn.
The thing is, I actually like sex. So why should I deprive myself for fear of being called a whore? And this has happened, mainly thourh high school, cause of a dumb rumour some guy made up-that I'd had a threesome at a party which was SO UNTRUE! I was sixteen. I was mad. And I didn't even know him.
So why did one guy I didn't know decide he could take the fact that I'd drunkenly kissed a girl at a party and then crawled up peacefully in my sleeping bag, and make it into a threesome and label me a slut?
Insecurity, perhaps. I mean, I don't threaten anyone with my sexuality-in fact, I enjoy it and the guys I've been with certainly haven't complained. I mean, for all my faults, it must be nice to end up with a girl like me instead of the girls I knew at high school, who had a broom stuck up their arses and found the slightest mention of sex distasteful. Which is why I surrounded myself with like-minded friends. More fun, dudes.
So what is the problem nowadays?
I don't often encounter it with guys I meet or, ahem, have been intimate with-none of them have complained.
Others have seen me as fair game, and have been put back pretty firmly in their place- I might like sex, but I don't like it with just anyone-there has to be some connection-like when i went to stay with a friend a year ago, and her boyfriend was all over me like a rash, all this because I'd actually told him what I thought. As if I'd ever touch a mate's boyfriend. No fucking way.
So does all this make me a whore?A slut?A bitch?or whatever?

I don't understand where people get off judging everyone else for everything they do. Like the fact that I act like this actually hurt them. I'm not forcing anyone else! This is me, this is my body, and I shall do whatever the fuck I like with it, be that holding off sex for a year or sleeping with ten guys within a fortnight (no, this has never happened).
I personally don't give a fuck about what other people are doing, as long as they like it, it makes them happy, it's consensual and doesn't involve animals (that REALLY makes me want to puke. And it's illegal.)
But no. And girls are the worst, aren't they? Not too fond of girls at times. Or boys. I just don't like people :D
But back to the topic. I really wonder at what girls do to each other. Criticizing all the others do, all the time. Does it make you feel better? Cause in that case you should be having a look at your self-esteem.
My enjoying sex takes nothing away from you, does it?

Go and get laid now.

Fuming

I was busy fighting with blogger, and now I've forgotten what i wanted to talk about.
Oh, yeah.
Yet another interesting post from SuperFrenchie on Alain Bernard's supposedly boastful words before the relay race, but one can't actually find trace of them, comments on the fact that if whe was talking in english, it's bullshit, cause he doesn't speak english, and if it was in french it's probably been badly translated cause he talks slang.
More bashing, surrender jokes, arrogance claims. Now I am so tired of these, mainly cause whatever I do I'll be the French girl in another country and the Brit girl here.
So.
1) What IS it about the body odour claims, jesus christ? Every american blog i've been on that talks about france at some point has had this. I've lived here for FIFTEEN years in less than six months.
Would I have noticed? Especially since all the tourist claims make me paranoid? No, of course not.
And I add a disclaimer for a métro (subwayyy) at the Heure de Pointe (the time betwen five and seven when everyone is coming out of work and the place is so jampacked you can't breathe) cause that is just caused but such close conditions, you dumb fucks.

2)arrogance. Don't know. Maybe I'm just as arrogant as the rest. But I resent being told off because the country I love in "only acts in its own interests!".
No fucking kidding, Boy (or girl) genius. Point me to a country that doesn't. Please. I'd be delighted.
And America is the last fucking place to be able to teach anyone ANYTHING these days. Go and clean up your criminality, your war, your infant mortality rates (higher than Nairobi's in some cities) your obesity epidemic (although I'd rather not talk about that after reading TheRotund's blog) your high school dropout rate, your energy consumption, your bigotry, your invasion of privacy,and then come back to tell us off, okay?

3) Surrendering. Now this is VERY touchy subject, and bringing this up is terribly painful to the people who had to experience it. I'd first like to point out that the GOVERNMENT became Vichy, and the people had no choice in the matter. Unlike going into Iraq, n'est-ce pas. And th US government recognized Vichy. There's something to be proud of.
Then here down south people would probably bitchslap any american who turned up airing the opinion that the french liked being invaded. Especially here, where a lot of the resistants were. The mountains were great places to hide. It was the unoccupied "free zone" although under Vichy control.
After all, there was rationing so the German army ate well, French men sent off to germany to work-my, doesn't that sound like an enviable situation!
And without us, you could have stayed under English control for another couple of centuries, like the Australians. D'you want us to take the Statue of Liberty back? After all, we made it. Although I'm sure you'd rather forget that.
This surrendering stance is a terribly painful one to address, because unlike you, it is a period of history we have to study in school. We see what happened to Jean Moulin for his bravery. We have to learn about Oradour-sur-Glane and the others, not so famous.
We study poetry written by men who were shot a day later, because they wanted their country back. I can't remember the title of the poem that struck me most, this was years ago,in my first year of high school, but I'll never forget how haunting the words were, and how sudden the realization that he knew he would be shot for his deeds. He knew that these would be his last written words. And I believe this kind of bravery makes up for any collaborators.
You are in no way able to judge this. It didn't happen in your country. You were the strong ones.
You were lucky.

This is all very haphazard, but I get very incoherent when I get pissed-off.

Now of course France has its faults, I moan about them enough the rest of the time. i complain about the strikes, about my university being in tatters, about the anarcho-communists who spend their time bitching and trying to disrupt everything so nothing changes and everything gets worse, I complain about the State selling off EDF, about smoking regulations, about education, about everything under the sun when I'm in the mood.

But I'm tired of hearing the same old tired insults all the damn time, from people who have never lived here, don't speak a word of french or any other language, and think everything is owed to them because they're american.

And by the way, you are killing sooooo much goodwill from French kids who want to love America but only see you insulting us all the time.
Way to go.

Thoughts

Lots to say.
I've been reading this blog by a self-proclaimed fat girl (or woman, should i say), The rotund which is terribly interesting. I just found out about the existence of the "fatosphere" and the Fat acceptance movement and all that.
Now, it's not my place to comment on these things cause I have no idea of what it's like to be truly fat. I was pretty fat from about elevn to fourteen, but that came off as i aged, thank god.
Now I come in at 58 kilos, and that's three kilos over my normal weight since I've been back at my parents and not walking six kilometres every day as I do when I live with my roommate in our flat.
So.
I get on with myself pretty well. I've never been on a real diet, and I don't actually know how to calorie count, and food is good so I want to enjoy it. But I'm lucky as I like healthy food, although I'm sure most of the stuff I eat would have the carb control brigade out in arms. Nutters.
But it is so true that women's body is like public property.
I hate being catcalled, and I've been getting ever more aggressive when it happens, which isn't the best of options, so I'm going to have to take it easy.
But i feel so sorry for all public women, be they actresses or politicians or whatever whose weight and appearance is always scrutinised. I mean, in a campaign, you rarely hear about a male candidate's dress choice, do you? But when it's a woman, she has to be careful to look serious without being too matronly, blablabla. Fucking double standards.
And I live in a country of appearances. Fat in France is a no-go. Like, in my chinese class, there's about forty-five girls, and there're only TWO that can be considered fat. And one of those is only remotely chubby.
When I go to the UK, I feel positively skinny.

On a slightly different topic, what is it about being a girl that menaces men, seriously? I read UK papers on line most days-the independent, the guardian, the daily mail- and i've been stumped by the number of articles declaring that we should go back to the fifties, and women should stay at home.
My first reaction was, you have got to be shitting me. Seriously. How can anyone be insane enough to want to stay at hom, cook, clean, bring up the kids and have no life whatsoever?
I'd die of boredom after a week.
There is no way I'm even going to consider being a stay at home wife.
A) I don't actually want to get married.
B)I don't want kids (well, not at the moment, let's be fair)
C) I hate domestic chores
D)I have a very low boredom threshold
E)There is no way in hell I am going to be "maintained" by some guy, however much I might love him. I mean seriously, how demeaning is that? i want my own money, my own life and maybe I'll let a guy in but it'll be on equal terms. No cleaning for me, nuh-uh.

I've always been told I could do anything I want by my parents. And living in the country has left me with enough DIY skills to sort myself out, largely as much as most of the guys I know( except but the boyfriend, but then he spends his time tinkering with machines and sculpting wood and creating stuff for dance shows and all that). SO why on earth would I want to lean on someone else to sort myself out?
It's bloody humiliating, there's my opinion.

What IS it that still allows people to think that women need taking care of all the time? As if we were retards.
I know what makes people want to take care of me. It's my looks. I have, I am told, a very dollish face-which got me out of no end of trouble when I was a teen, mainly because teachers couldn't believe I was any mischief-I'm not very tall, and I'm younger than all my friends cause I skipped a year in school. SO that explains why people tend to get a rud awakening when they get to know me. Tis very funny.

I'd better shut up. AM very busy trying to convince Belle Etoile that no dude is out of her league. Jeez.

People

...make me sick.
It could be my rampant cynicism, but seriously, people are idiots.
Just visited the blog of a girl I knew in high school, and i came close to throwing up in my mouth. It was nauseating, full of mistakes and twee abbreviations and grandiloquent phrases exalting the beauty of love and how much she loves the people around her and how life is beautiful even though it's SO hard (well when you have her IQ, it has to be hard).
Man, grow out of it already.
And there are so many blogs just like it. Kids who just haven't got over high school and still express themselves as if they were still sixteen.
And I can't stand mistakes, be they grammar or spelling. And I mean the common mistakes, ones you can easily avoid, because French is so fucking complicated it's normal to make mistakes from time to time.
I mean seriously, there seems to be a whole generation of small-minded idiots out there. It's terribly depressing, and brings back (violently) the fact that intelligent conversation is scarce. Luckily Peter was there this weekend, and Hairyboy wasn't, cause goddammit is that guy a fool-he's extremely well read and very insightful, as long as it concerns art. Take him over to Politics, economics, or that kind of stuff and he has the intellect of an amoeba, with a certain tendency to contradict himself, plus BHL's ego and sense of righteousness.
Fucking unbearable.

Relations Bullshit-More Massilia

In any case I had a great time with everyone, got stoned, talked and talked and talked, got up late, just generally took advantage of the holiday spirits, and crossed a line I've been thinking about crossing for a wee while now.

I love the Boyfriend, and he loves me. It's the easiest relationship I've ever had. There's the knub and crux of the matter. He's a year older than I am, but I tend to feel like I'm the older one. I guess a relationship is about sharing your troubles, and he does take care of me too, but yeah, he does make me feel a bit like an older sister from time to time, which is not good.
I think this all started when I spent three weeks with absolutely no contact with him, and was all by myself once more.
I don't know.
Who cares what I do anyway; I seriously don't give a damn about wrong or right just now.
Oh, so what happened?
I slept with Peter early this morning. And man, was it worth it, if only for the excitement.
I get bored fast.
And no-one will ever know-except for whoever comes by here, which is no-one.
There is some safety in being evermore anonymous, although whoever comes by can find out a lot about me.
Thank God none of my French friends would ever read a blog in English- and the Anglophones couldn't tell :)
Was it wrong of me? If the Boyfriend ever came to find out, I'd consider it wrong, because then he'd be hurt. But I'm good at keeping secrets. And at necessary lying. Saying I was reading on the balcony-which was actually true until Peter turned up and pulled me into his room.
In all likelihood I won't see Peter again, anyway. He's leaving the day after tomorrow, and I'm not going back to Marseille for a while.
So here, this is also who I am. This is the kind of thing I will never tell anyone around me. I don't want to lose the Boyfriend, but I need something else.
Am I trying to have my cake and eat it?Probably. Does it make me a lesser person? Not insomuch as it bothers me. And if it bothers anyone else, too bad, tant pis!

I am who i am. And however much I love and need my current relationship, there is something wrong with it, which can't be remedied.
The Boyfriend can't change overnight and bring the excitement other men have. But no-one else has ever given themselves over to me as he has. Which I like but also resent.
As the Best Friend says, he's hung on to me, although we make a show of independence to the world and he pretends his independence to me. All i know is that I can disappear for three weeks with no means to contact him and not worry. That I can watch him go off to his Dads for three weeks, where his ex also lives, and not worry, even if I have no news for a few days.
How safe is that, Jesus.
As I said, I get bored fast.
I'm horrible.

Six days later

Well, I'm just back from four days in Massilia, which is where the boyfriend lives, and it was a hell of a mess. And great fun. And I wasn't very good.
So. It's a mess because the boyfriend lives (but not for much longer) in a great big flat with Pedro, Nana, and Nath, and that place is always fun cause there's always zillions of people around.
Thing is, Nath's been gone for about three months, Pedro's off to Lyons, and the boyfriend and Nana are looking for a new flat/house to share with three other Beaux-Arts friends (i shall call them the Sex maniac-don't be put off by the moniker, he's great fun- Hairyboy, and Luna the loon-no, i don't like her) so the flat is insane, full of boxes and that kind of stuff.
Especially as Pedro's elder sister, Marion, is taking over the flat and is looking for two new roommates at the moment, plus the fact that a Hungarian dancer, Peter, Marion's exboyfriend, was also staying there before he leaves for Madrid on Thursday.
Yes, this is complicated.

Well anyway, when i first turned up, thank god Pedro was there because the Boyfriend wasn't. So I sat down with Pedro and Peter, smoked a joint, the usual, until the Boyfriend and more people turned up.
Cast characters included Lulu, Pedro's girlfriend, Andreas and Conrad, two German dudes, and Anton, a Belarussian dancer.(yeah, lots of dancers in this story-looovelyyy :D)
A real Auberge Espagnole.
Which happens to be an atmosphere I love. It was great speaking English again for once, with Peter, cause his English is even better than his French (I really like and am really jealous of Peter-he's 29,looks 24, speaks English, French, Spanish, Hungarian, German, and Dutch, has lived in each of this countries and in god knows how many others, including Denmark and the US, and has worked all over the world for various dance companies.) and for once I could talk about all my foreigner obsessions, which is a thing I can never do because no-one shares them.

sickening feelings

I've been on Superfrenchie's blog.
Again.
It's bad for me. I find it so terribly depressing.
I try to ignore most of the french bashing, when I encounter it.
The thing is, in the real world, noone actually believes I'm British until I start speaking. I can pass off as pure French, if I so choose. After all, I speak french with a provençal accent; i have the colouring of Southern France-ie, dark hair, dark eyes, a tan. My education is French; my tastes are probably French; but at the end of the day, I'm not. I don't have French nationality; and that's what it's all about.
But looking French, going on holiday with my french mates, speaking french like a native-this has exposed me to, let's say, different takes on the French.
I've had to deal with hecklers three times out of the four I've been to Scotland. Usually kids our age insulting us, when it wasn't actually threats.
We also got the "oh, the French are so cute", and countless "voulezvous coucher avec moi".
So I guess it's not all negative.
But I'm anglo-american. And three quarters of my life have been spent in France. Which, as i have complained many times before, leaves me in an eternal mix.
I have all but given up american nationality. It's not something I care much about, and my passport expired two years ago. And America makes me ashamed. I guess I'm slightly idealistic.

And French bashing makes me miserable. Part of it is because the ones doing the bashing tend to come from the same places I do-the Uk and the US. Why do we never hear about the Italians kicking our butt?Or the Germans? Or the Swedes? Or the Irish? Or the Japanese?
The other part is because, well, this is where I live. I love it. I'll admit it has many faults, but also so many qualities. And I hate feeling picked on. I've always hated bullies, and this is always what it feels like.
I can't hope for people to like France, or the French. But maybe they could try giving up on a few of the old stereotypes, or maybe cleaning their own backyard up before criticizing ours.

Georgia, Georgia, Georgia

If we don't take care, half the country is going to be swallowed by the Russian giant. Do we want to go back to the Iron Curtain? Russia never having to account for anything?
I don't give a damn about people telling me that Russia was provoked by the "attack" on South Ossetia by the Georgian army to bring that rebellious province to heel, and that Russia only went in to "save" their Ossetian brothers.
That's a load of bullshit.
Russia only wants control, to my untutored eye. The bigger the better.
And it has a lot of losses to make up for, n'est-ce pas.
Anyway. The assault on South Ossetia may have been a mistake; I shan't comment on that.
But whatever happened, Russia has no right to storm in and bomb the place. There are thousands of dead on the Georgian side. This is unacceptable. How can anyone be justifying it?
South Ossetia and Abkhazia are rebellious provinces and however much they might want to be part of Russia, they're not. They're Georgian. Part of Georgia. There's nothing Russia can do about this and the country has no excuse whatsoever for this attack on another country's sovereignty.
I'm ashamed anyone could consider Russia has a point.

["Politics is war without bloodshed while war is politics with bloodshed"M.Z.D.]

This is scandalous. I haven't actually gotten around yet to believeing that Russia has been carrying out military operations in Georgia, deliberately violating another country's sovereignty.
And I don't give a fuck that those two regions wanted the Russians there. This would be a whole different ball game if Russia decided the Inner Mongolians (inner mongolia being a chinese province) needed help to break away from China and into their fold, wouldn't it. Or if a neighbouring country decided that Chechnya was actually part of them and not of Russia. It's terrible.

On another note, France and Britain are doing very badly in the Olympics. The US are doing well. And China is leading the game, there's a surprise.


["War is a cowardly escape from the problems of peace."T.M.]

Screw this

It's too hot to go on visits.
I'm none too fond of having to do the tourist stuff whenever family and in some occasions guests come along.
Some of it is nice, like spending the afternoon in-and next to,of course- some river up mountain, the Toulourenc. That was really nice. As was going to a place in the mountain where we used to holiday when we were little.
On the other hand, every thing lower than a thousand meters over sea level was a pain. I hate all the little villages in summer.
Let's not get confused. I love them the rest of the year, but in summer they're just teeming with tourists. Like one we went to; its population swells by three hundred percent in summer.
It's just unbearable.


["The secret of being a bore is to tell everything."V.]

we are cooking.
42° Celsius yesterday.
Hot.
Been around with the family, Cousin S, the boyfriend, eating out, strolling around Avignon in the evening, going on the Ferris Wheel, usual summer visitor stuff, etcetera.
Quite pleasant.

Anyway, I'm somewhat disconnected from the world around me. It's quite restful.
My life isn't very interesting.

["Idleness is not doing nothing. Idleness is being free to do anything."F.D.]

well, Cousin S got here yesterday. (I'll try and remember to call her Cousin S and not get confused).
At first, she seemed like the in colour, female version of the mime Marceau (=mute). I'll put that down to jetlag.
Anyhoo, she opened up a bit today, thank god. And she seems really nice now.
So it's all good.

["In these matters the only certainty is that nothing is certain." P.T.E.]

ruby tuesday

I'm supposed to be
brainy
(an accusation I totally deny)
but i have just spent half an hour discussing hair with Belle Etoile
I love being a girl

I need a change of air

["Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months." O.W.]

Israeli soldiers have just shot a ten-year-old boy in the head.
They should be ashamed of themselves.
I'm ashamed I have origins in a country that says amen to everything Israel does.

[I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones. A.E.]

Uninvaded

The three Swedes left today.
Now, I very much enjoyed having them here, and Marcus is very cute and very nice, so that's even more enjoyable, but really, BOYS!
Stick a group of them in a strange house with one girl their age and a teenage boy....girl ends up having to babysit EVERYONE.
So as much as I liked having them around, I'm glad my housekeeping duties are over. Especially as my parents came back today, turning up at the same time as my best friend, which made for a bit of a mess in the yard.
And on Thursday, the American cousin is arriving. I think I might run away. I mean, I've been a tour guide before, but that has always been by choice, and not because I felt like I had to. And it's always been in groups with plenty of guys-the last time that happened, I helped out some friends of my mother's who had a Scottish rugby team coming over and no-one to take care of them. So I did. And it was great fun. But I tend to get on well with big groups of guys. Mainly because when the ribbing gets really too much, I'll have a good rant, and forget about it ten minutes later.
Ah, the Scots. Great ones for drinking, they were. I hadn't seen anyone drink that much since Id been to the Czech Republic.

["Laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you get tired." J.R.]

Pointless pictures

Found these by digging around in my computer. No stealing!^^

["They used to photograph Shirley Temple through gauze. They should photograph me through linoleum."T.B.]

Although...

On the other hand, they've been through Germany, Italy, Hungary and the Czech Republic before getting here, so they must have SOME sense of direction.

["The true traveler is he who goes on foot, and even then, he sits down a lot of the time." C.]

Oops

in a moment of distractedness (ie, myself being unsocial because I was tired of boy-noise and them all playing video games-boys never grow out of that, do they?) the three swedes ran away.
They went off to town, which is five kilometers away (7 according to my brother, but he always exaggerates)on foot.
Now I'm just praying they don't get lost.

["Dig where the gold is…unless you just need some exercise."J.M.C.]

unexpectedness

busy watching Wile E. Coyote trying to catch Bugs Bunny, which is against the natural order of things. Although I do wish he'd catch Bip Bip the roadrunner one day. That bird is very annoying.
Anyway, I digress.
I was woken up this morning by a phone call fro my Dad, off holidaying in the Pyrenees, while I babysit a house, a brother, and more I don't care to talk about. He had just had a call from my Aunt Lena (one of the swedes) saying my cousin Oscar and two friends of his were arriving in Avignon today and coming to stay with us. So I've been running all over the place clearing up, getting beds ready, the usual, but it's good news, should be entertaining.

Last time I saw Oscar it was Christmas 2006 in Stockholm and I have vivid memories of watching him tie massive fireworks to a stop sign-the fireworks went off with a BANG! and were very pretty, and a neighbour threatened to call the police.


["Never explain--your friends do not need it and your enemies will not believe you anyway."E.H.}

my brother just admitted he knew how to pirate an email account, so I forced him to tell me how so I could destroy his in case he went near mine.
Really, what world are we living in.

["If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance."G.B.S.]

I've always found summers boring, especially as I got older.
At the moment, everyone I know is working or has gone off on holiday.
There is, quite literally, nothing to do.
I am stuck at my parent's house because they've gone off for ten days, leaving me to keep an eye on my little brother and on the house, so I'm stuck here.
Being a complete and utter loser, I don't have a driving license. Which is a pain. I don't usually need one, but my parents live in the middle of fucking nowhere, so now I am not happy at my uselessness.
On the other hand, all year round, I don't care-driving is totally unneccessary in the town I live in, all the interesting places are at walking distance from my flat (this including university, bars, cinemas,shops, my mates' flats-I live in the town center and it's GREAT.)

So it's just when I come here that I find it aggravating.
On the other hand, it wouldn't solve the "everyone is away or working" problem, so I guess I can't complain that much.
Thing is, I couldn't get a job in June or July, cause I was passing exams/in China, and I can't get a job in August cause I'm supposed to take my cousin around when she gets here.
At least a job would keep me busy, man. And make money, of course. I'm hopelessly broke. As usual^^
I guess I'm in a moaning mood tonight-not attractive at all!

But having nothing to do tends to make me like this. Of course, when I have things to do, I procrastinate like crazy, and do it in a rush the night before it's due. It's always worked for me :D

["Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen."A.B.]

woooo

It's raining.
Although it's sunny at the same time.
Bizarre.

Note to self

...it's only when I start moaning that i get what I want :D
yes, my university results came today, two weeks after most students' (not sure of the punctuation there) and all is good, just another year to survive.

On another note, I have been finding out a few things about one of my US cousin who is coming to spend a month here in August. These things worry me.
To put things into context, my Dad is swedish-american, and his parents lived in Paris all his life, well until he was eighteen and went off to university in the States, on which occasion my grandmother(who is the swedish half) applied for divorce and moved down to the sunny south of France, where I am currently located.
Anyway. I can't quite remember when my dad moved back to France, but it was quite a few years later, and then he went to England sometime during the eighties, met my mother, end of story. Until they moved to France in the nineties with my brother and I in tow.
I've only ever been to the US once, when I was fifteen, and met part of the family there (my Dad had eight uncles and aunts.large family).
Well, I was fifteen.
I hated it.
I'm not that comfortable with big family gatherings, because it's not something that's been part of my life, living overseas from just about all the relatives.
Even so, I was bored. The cousins nearest to me in age, between 18 and 25, well they just didn't have much conversation, to be honest. I went with one of them to see a documentary and she came out of the cinema wondering what the hell it was about.
I've always been fairly easily bored, but the two weeks I spent there were mind-numbing. I was sick of the food, of the TV, of the gigantism of everything.
I might be American by blood, but I'm sure not part of that culture.
Although I'd give it another shot. But somewhere alive. I'd love to see San Francisco one day.
But anyway. I digress.
So. My cousin is six months older than I am. Fair enough. Saw a picture of her earlier-she looks between 5 and 10 years older than I do. Dad said "oh, it's the make-up". Um.
And she's getting married. Apparently her fiancé proposed a few days ago.
Looking forward to the conversation.
I'm taking bets with myself on her being religious, which is going to be extremely uncomfortable in a house of atheists. I'm not even baptized, neither is my brother. I don't even have any religious friends. The closest I have to that is my flatmate's boyfriend, and we've never talked about it.
hm. Starting to have doubts about this plan.

The French "service public" is a pain.
Right now I'm moaning because my university still hasn't sent my results, although everyone SHOULD have them.
ALthough now I don't know anyone who hasn't. Except JC, because he went back to England. And Shuang, cause she's in China.
sulk sulk sulk sulk sulk!

I hate

all these female french singers who pass as "alternative" and "rebellious" and "non-conformist" when all they do is moan in a microphone about how life is hard.

Johnny Hallyday.

American journalists who take him as a prime example of French culture when anyone under fifty hates him. And a lot of people over fifty, come to that.

French maintream music. It's some of the worst in the known universe, because all that is shown on the french MTV is rnb and rap copied from the US-but in French, which is pretty bad. Or old singers on the prowl, such as Patrick Bruel, Patrick Fiori, Jean-Jacques Goldman and sooooo many others, Celine Dion in the lot, could someone silence her please.

Being told that all French music sucks by people who only watch M6.

Reality TV (although I admit it, I watched Nouvelle Star last year for Julien Doré, and this year for Benjamin. And when at Agathe's we can have MTV afternoons just to empty our heads-nothing better for it than those freaky shows such as Parental Control-I STILL haven't understood how anyone could actually participate in those, I'm sure they pay them)

Jean-Pierre Pernaut

French sitcoms.

On the other hand, I indiscriminately love a whole set of French entertainment: The Guignols de l'info, Omar et Fred, le Groland, les Inconnus, les Nuls, le Grand Journal, la Minute Blonde (shame that stopped)
Matmatah, Rita Mitsouko,Hocus Pocus,BB Brunes, Billy Ze Kick, Birdy Nam Nam, daft Punk, Sebastien Tellier,Justice, Java, Massilia Sound System,La Rue Ketanou, M and Lousie Attaque and Noir Désir are just some of the French musicians I really like

I've often been that French movies are always the same: X loves Y who loves Z who loves X and everyone ends up in bed and people think far too much. I have to admit, that is often true. But there are so many great French movies, it's a shame anglophones tend to write them off like this.

L'auberge Espagnole-Les Poupées Russes-Le Péril Jeune-Gadjo Dilo-Delicatessen-Un long dimanche de fiançailles-Persepolis-Les Triplettes de Belleville-La Môme-Jean de Florette-Manon des Sources-Le Placard-Le Bossu-Darling-Molière-Une Vieille Maitresse-Le Scaphandre et le Papillon-Les Chansons d'Amour-C.R.A.Z.Y.(french canadian but brilliant)-Prête-moi ta main-Ne le Dis à Personne-Le Couperet-Les Choristes-Amélie Poulain-36 QUai des Orfèvres-Les invasions Barbares-La Reine Margot-Le Mépris-Et Dieu créa la femme-Se souvenir des belles choses-L'homme de sa vie-Monsieur Batgnole-Etre et Avoir-Astérix et Obélix Mission Cléopatre-Le Chocolat(not actually a french movie, but made in France with Juliette Binoche)-Un crime au paradis-Les Jolies Choses-Meilleur espoir Féminin.....

I think that's enough.
I won't bother talking about books, because I read mainly in English (there's an English bookshop approximately thirty seconds from my flat) but I did a lot of French classics in school and read in French when I like the author, like Virginie Despentes or Bernard Werber or when I borrow a book ^^
But the covers are never inspiring. It's terrible.

I just go on posting today.
But then, I'm bored.

On another note, I'm watching Omar&Fred.
They're particularly insane tonight. I have no idea if their humour is understandable by any non-french citizen, but god, they're hilarious.
If you're in France, check out the end of the Grand Journal on Canal Plus in the evenings. The SAV des émissions is my favourite part of the show.
Got to admit, Canal+ is the best Tv channel here. It's the only slightly insane one, what with Les Guignols de l'Info (wonder what they're going to do now that PPDA got fired?), the Groland, the Grand Journal and all that.
Hmmm.

I do believe

I've just fallen in love. With yet another expat blog. An american expat blog. An american expat in Paris blog (sorry, it's kind of hard to get more cliché from the point of view of someone who lives down south). And oh, it's called Maitresse -how am I not supposed to love that? Although I've only ever had one Maitresse, and that was a long time ago (only primary school teachers are Maitresses, and now you're supposed to call them Professeurs des Ecoles) (although I've been a Maitresse myself but that's a whole different story)
And oh, someone who talks about books!
Now, it's time to share a guilty secret.
I.Love.Books.
Not cool at all. I've been like this since I learned how to read at four. It gradually becomes cooler as you get older, but I'm still a bit of a freak. Ah well, I'm used to it by now.

why is it so hard to say goodbye to a mate on internet? I never draw out goodbyes like this on the phone, but MSN, or that new facebook chat-thingy, makes me go on useless chat overdrive-and i'm not the only one.
I think it must've taken ten minutes from the time El said she had to go til the time she actually left, full of good nights and sleep wells and oh shit i'm getting up at 6:30 and commiserations and are you with your boyfriends.
Am I the only one this happens to?

Chitchat

One of my favourite uni mates, El, is off to London this summer again, to be an au-pair, again.
El's english is brilliant-she's one of the only french people i can actually talk english to without feeling constrained by language barriers. Which is also why i think there must've been a problem with her uni results-she studies english, appropriately enough.
So El is back in London, where she manages to meet only French boys to crush on, especially ones that are perfect and only there for the week-end. Talk about bad luck.
You'd think there were enough British dudes in London, especially for a short-haired hot Keira Knightley look-alike, but sexier?
I mean, seriously.

shit

i totally forgot to link the post last night, and i'll never find that post again. ALthough I remember its name (Cultural Schizophrenia, fyi)

My wee brother was going on about accents earlier on, and rather miffed on being told his accent was unplaceable. Like someone who has been brought up abroad.
While mine is an unplaceable mixture that doesn't scream out "I've spent most of my life in France, motherfuckers!"
No-one could guess that from my speech, thank god. French accents in English are atrocious.
But a Frenchman could probably tell from my French that I live down South. Slight accent, slightly more singsong. Nicer than that awful northern Ch'ti "hein" or the german-sounding alsacians. But not caricatural-my mother would strangle me. I can still remember flying off to the States to see the family,years ago, when she warned me not to come back with a US accent. Would've been funny though.
Guess it's thanks to her I still sound English.

this is a terribly interesting article by Petite Anglaise on having different personalities in different languages.
It's not something I actually experience; I tend to be just the same in either language-which is probably why I come over as insane to most British guys (and girls, but in a lesser measure)

I've built myself on my British origins, because whatever happened, I was never from here, and never will be.
People often ask me why, at eighteen, I didn't apply for french nationality (which they couldn't have refused me, having come here at the age of five, done all my schooling in French public schools, obtained my baccalaureat, etcetera). The only I answer I have for that is that I'm not French. I just cannot imagine saying "I am French".
Although it is impossible to know that I'm not unless I say so-which is why as a preteen I kept it well under wraps and wouldn't speak english with my parents in public. I just wanted to be like everyone else. Strangely enough, this period, I believe, is what makes me now hang on to my nationality. I spent so much time being made to feel I was a foreigner, as soon as my foreign status was discovered, that I guess it made me decide that I was one and they could all go to hell.

In the meantime, I cannot separate my French self from my English self; in both I am stubborn, terribly polite when needs be, and swear a lot. Neither language has ascendency over the other-I wouldn't know if I speak French or English better.
The mix was made, and out came I.
Being a foreigner has always been a preoccupation of mine. I think that living in a foreign country, although perfectly integrated and my foreign-ness unnoticeable, you cannot help but thinking about it.
Especially when three times out of four, you're introduced by "this is Froufrou-she's English".
Never understood that.
Is being English my main characteristic? one wonders.

Well, after two and a half days back home, I feel a lot better, although I'm still ill-which is why I had to come back from China early. Ten days early.
I nearly gave my boyfriend a heart attack when I called, i think.

so. China. Not my cup of tea.
Thing is, the trip might just have been spoiled by the fact that nothing could be done without Shuang's mother, except when in Guangzhou-which is probably why Guangzhou was the bit I liked best.
It was unbearable.
My normal friend morphed into a little girl who couldn't-and practically wasn't allowed to-do anything without her mother. It drove me very insane.
And oh, being treated as an alien, all the time, is horrible. I'd never imagined it would be this bad.
I felt like a monster from some freak show.
Also discovered my chinese was even worse than I thought, so felt quite isolated.

It was a fascinating trip,but a sobering one.

oh yeah, I'm back from China, and I don't really feel like writing about it
SUffice to say it was an eye-opener

oh man
just saw a Michaek Jackson feat Akon video on MTV, for Thriller's 25th anniversary
Bloody depressing
The man was the King of Pop-I don't think there's ever been anyone like him
and now, what has he become?

holy shit i cannot access my emails or facebook; am cutoff from the world except here, and since the people im trying to communicate with are french, they dont read this. and i didnt give my parents the address either. and theres no msn here. damn damn damn, i really needed to talk to ;y mother. shit. i hate the internet here.

a Chinese Tall story

yay, finally got internet!
well, been here for a few days now> spent the first three in guangzhou, and now am in Hengyang.Having a good time, except that I fel terribly lonely at times, what with not understandng what people are saying, and being stared at all the time. I am not an alien, for gods sake.
enjoying the food, although it takes time to get used to, and blessing the guy who invented aircon. it is sooooooo hot here.
and managing a chinese keyboard is complicated.
unfortunately i cant upload my photos here, because im in an internet cafe, but thats life, itll have to wait.
i think a more detailed account of the trip might have to wait until I get home, which isnt for another four weeks or so,we re the 24th and im home on july 19th
i dare say itll be a relief to be home, because not understanding anything around you is extremely tiring. at least it s a motivation to study more :)
QUite pleqsed, becquse I found an electronic dictionary in guangzhou, and shuangs boyfriend bargained so i got it 140 yuan cheaper :)
hopefully hell be coming bqck from his job in guangzhou for the holidays pretty soon, because here weve only been seeing shuangsdd mother and her aunt, and were going out with her mother and her friends for lunch. i think shuangs mother, athough shes very kind, has written me off as a lost cause. i need to find someone around my age (or around shuangs, shes 6 years older than i am) who doesnt speak french or english and wholl b patient enough to listen to me stuttering and to explain what theyve just said!
ah well, we ll see

Waiting until it's time to go

has to be the most boring thing ever.

Well, vaccination sorted, I don't think the doctor was impressed when I told him I was leaving tomorrow and so needed it done today.

I haven't actually done any of the things I need to do yet. My bags aren't packed, I haven't called the friend we're staying with, come to think of it I haven't called Shuang either.

In the meantime, reading too many expat blogs makes me worry about my weight. I'm not exactly small here,a lot fo my friends are shorter (and slimmer) than I am; I shall be a giant in China.
Oh well.

I should really start doing useful stuff.

I was happily watching Grey's Anatomy; but then...adverts, so I changed channels and became absorbed in a program about Japan.
All I shall say is that they are completely nuts.
But I'd love to go there one day.

Pictures!

I've been fiddling around with Google images (that's what it's called in French) looking for pictures of the first few places we're going and I'm all excited again :)

Hunan

Huizhou

Guangzhou

Hengyang

Hunan

I must say, Guangzhou Baiyun airport looks very...glassy

Guangzhou

Guangzhou(This picture is amazing).

Guangzhou

Hunan.

Hopefully I'll soon be posting the pictures I'll have taken.

Well, On Wednesday I'll be making my way to Paris with Shuang, spend a night there with a high school friend of mine, and then off to Guangzhou airport on Thursday.

I'm panicking.

Off to the doctor's tomorrow because i just remembered a few jabs might be in order (he's going to have a fit and slay me).

Oh, and there've been floods in Hunan, Shuang's region (where we are GOING) but apparently not in her town (big sigh of relief although wish there'd been no floods, no earthquakes, and all that)

Now, only hoping that there'll be no strikes of trains, airplanes or anything when we try to leave. Please please please please.

Well, yeah, because everyone's striking right left and center at the moment. I think the journey will be the most stressful part of the whole trip. I really hate France sometimes.

Hah!

I finally found out how to add the blogroll.

I'm so lame.

I am

so sick of this m'f'ing storms.
Although the view can be pretty good.
This is where my parents live.
The stream on the photo? it's a PATH

Expats

Hah. That's what I am, supposedly, but I have so little of the English left in me, except the language, that I've never heard the term applied to me.
I mean, seriously.
I don't like British food and groan the rare times my mother brings out mince pies, christmas pudding, mint sauce and all that stuff (luckily, she's just about given up on it)
I don't like McDonald's.
I don't understand British girls walking around half-naked, and I find British boys shy.
Stephen Clarke makes me laugh, but I often find his views caricatural.
I don't like British people complaining that the french never pronounce English names properly (although it does sometimes set my teeth on edge) when their attempts at pronouncing French names are at best risible, and most often non-existent.
I like eating meat rare and not overcooked as my aunt, uncle and cousins do.
I find many Brits either overly reserved or terribly loud.
I still have a British sense of humour which can be quite confusing if associated with the french one (this often leads to my laughing all by myself)
I don't have the problem of pronouncing my name in a different language since it's easy in both. It's impossible to tell from my accent whether I'm english or french. A frenchman could tell that I live in the south of France, an Englishman might be able to tell that my family originates from southern England.
I never have to wonder about the gender of an object.
All this puts me pretty far from the usual expat concerns.


Now, I don't like expats much. I'm sure they're all very nice people, but in my experience (which is mainly that of my parent's friends, etcetera) a lot of them, while often marrying french people, pretend to stay quintessentially english. Which is absolutely impossible.
Take my mother, who unlike my father, my brother and I, isn't quite such a mess and is English born and bred. Even she thinks that she doesn't have much in common with english people after fourteen years of living here.
And all the expat moaning gets me down. Go back to England, or the US, or wherever, if it's that bad, and quit moaning.
The only expat friend I have is JC. He's English, looks impossibly like prince Charming, and hates England for a set of reasons i have not yet fathomed.
And out of the thousands of English or english speaking students in our town, I'm the only Brit he talks to, and the same goes for him.
we're a pair of weirdoes.

Right.
For whatever reason this started underlining all I was writing, it has stopped.
Back to my ever increasing boredom, which was slightly slaked this morning by being woken up by an old schoolfriend of mine having an English lesson with my mother in the romm next door. So I toddled over to annoy him.
Apart from that, I am sick of french TV going on about that new movie about Françoise Sagan, played by that silly blonde ferret Sylvie Testud. As if it was going to have as much success as La Mome.
As far as I'm concerned, all Testud wants is to go the Marion Cotillard route. Which isn't likely, because as far as I'm concerned, she sucks. But that's just my opinion.

I am

SO BORED
I am no good at doing nothing.
I think I've read about six books since friday evening, have perused many many VERY long blogs, such as petiteanglaise(very entertaining, although don't always agree. But have a very different perspective), stuff white people like(stuff white liberal americans like. some things quite to the point, and very annoying commnters), a modern lei feng why the fuck is this underlined?
anyways. Jesus it's going on, I am stopping this RIGHT NOW.

well, I'm finally on holidays, exams are over and all that. Most happy.
Now of course I have to sort out a few minor details like getting a ticket for the train back from Paris when i come back from China-i'm leaving in less than two weeks! absolutely terrified, but terribly excited.
Am seriously considering going to China the year after i get my degree (which is next year, if all goes well) as a teacher, and taking chinese classes at the same time; my latest aim was to perfect my chinese up to the point where I could come back here and swan my way through one of the translation schools. I'm already bilingual; i just need to get a third language perfect, and I chose a hard one.
Believe me, six months in Italy would've made me trilingual-five years of it made me excellent between twelve and seventeen, but I gave it up at university.
Sometimes I wonder why I chose chinese, except for the reason that i decided i wanted to learn chinese when i was about eleven. But although it's terribly complicated, I enjoy it, so I'm going to have to knuckle down to it a lot more seriously. A month in China should be a good start.

I should be working right now, I have exams at the moment, but I'm a lazy person and I just can't get round to it. Which will fuck me over tuesday because I have four speeches to prepare for chinese expression (oral) and we have oral translation that day too. and grammar on wednesday. I'm going to die. And i can't get down to it.
Of course, the week after I have four english exams, law, economics,and one on computers, bu I'll worry about those later.
Like, never.

Well, China has been praised for its response to the earthquake...while Burma has only just let foreign aid workers in, finally. Hopefully not too late.
In the meanwhile, the world goes round, people are striking all over the place here because of the price of petrol (as if the government could actually do something about it)
And France lost the Eurovision again apparently :) although they'd actually sent someone quite funky, that nutjob Sebastien Tellier

ouch

well, these last ten days have been a bit of a disaster, haven't they?
A hurricane in Burma, an earthquake in China, a tornado in the US, bobs in India...christ.
I just hope Burma will stop being a jerk and all the people in Sichuan get through this.

Just fell in a love with this
But then I've been an expat, sort of, since the age of five.
And i have no intention of returning to the motherland any time soon.
And in a couple of years I might be gone from my terre d'accueil, who knows.

On an entirely different note, I picked up my visa for China on Friday.
Nothing will stop me now!
And I've been out of touch with the virtual world for two weeks which might help.

I just have to get through my exams first, and not meltdown, oh and finish the projet tutoré shitshitshit I'd forgotten. Shudup girl, you're talking to yourself (oh yeah, and don't make me believe it never happens to the rest of you)

New precisions on Ms L's CV in life ; she got sent to China by the French government in 1964.

Nineteen sixty fucking four. I mean, Jaysus. That's the year France actually recognished the PRC. She must've been among the first french people, perhaps even the first european people, to go there and learn chinese.
When I was saying she was crazy!
And she comes out with this like it's perfectly normal. And she gets all excited over the electronic dictionary her son brought her from China.
And that's who we've been learning chinese from (mostly) for the last two years.
(Now I get why our Uni's Chinese department is so well-rated in France)

okay, I don't post often. But then, I don't actually have any readers, so does it matter? I'd say not.

But whatever.

So, halfway through a five-day long weekend (you've got to love may when the 1st falls on a thursday-last weekend was four days long, this one is five because it's Pentecost or somesuch Christian fest few people of my generation actually care about except for the free time it generously offers us), enjoying the warm weather that comes from living down South- and realising that i have exams at irregular intervals starting next saturday and ending on June 6th.

Ooohh yeah, I am in deep trouble. Right now I'm suppose to prepare a global analysis of China's geopolitics, learn it, and spit it back out for the exam. Like last year, althoug I can't remember last year's subject.
it's HELL.
I am considering running away to some tropical island and living on the beach there. Fishing or something. Alhough I'd have to remember to take a fishing rod.