The first time a girl holds a handbag

After getting the girls off to school, I headed home to begin a marathon of packing, and also to do some last minute things in Paris. The highlight on my list was the Marc Jacobs store. Tucked away near the Louvre in a small side street and I had my eye set on a bag. It wasn't impulsive... I just decided I wanted THAT ONE last night... at about midnight when it was far too late to call anyone. I even wrote a list of reasons! And I spent all morning contemplating it, so it was definitely NOT impulsive. And before you start mouthing 'OH GOOD GOD what has she gone and done now????' keep reading and I'll continue explaining.


I went into the store, and I think it's pretty obvious to the staff which customers are there to try and find a cheap 'souvenir' and those that are there for the REAL DEAL. I asked (in French of course!) about the small bag with a gold bird on the front, and the guy said they didn't have the small one. I looked around, and although the bags were absolutely G O R G E O U S, they weren't the one. He saw me staring at them all - I hadn't come to Paris to leave empty handed! - and said he'd go and have another look. Wow. And he came back with THE bag! :O He was so lovely, and I practically jumped up and down (Ok, so I hopped about and clapped my hands, beaming and delightedly repeating 'merci! merci! merci!'). It was lovely, BUT not as amazing as it was on the internet. It was very small, and if I'm going to spend money on a bag, I want to be able to use it every day, and not for a trip to the theatre with only a lipstick and mirror inside! THEN I spotted the one. The bag. Mustard yellow, similar design to the Mulberry's Alexa bag - small handle and shoulder strap, designer stamped plaque on the front, and it's 'signature monochrome twill' inside. AND, it was THE LAST ONE. (Obviously meant for me then.) SO, I bought it. 

  

 

Reason one: The best things I got for my birthday was a box of apples and a Rihanna CD (thank you very much, and the CD fits brilliantly into the bag!), but I feel that after my 18th Birthday achievement last year, I really should follow on from that in the same designer streak. Reason 2: WHAT a year. Oh my goodness. If I deserved anything, it really was this bag. Whether you look at this past week, past month, past four months in France which NOBODY seemed to think I'd actually do, or just another year gone by with all the general ups and downs, it's been tough. Reason 3: I spent my euro money, so my bank account remains unharmed, and my euros wouldn't even buy me a cup of hot chocolate in England, so I might as well put them to good use while I can! Reason 4: This is actually saving my life! I mean, with a fur coat and a (faux)-fur bag, I really could have been attacked by some animal-rights activist, accusing me of wearing half the animal kingdom! (Oh, and I also have tusks hanging off my favourite earrings...) And as much as I love my fur coat and my fur bag, I really don't want to look like I've mauled about 20 furry felines for fashion purposes... 


And one extra reason - come on, I'm in P.A.R.I.S! You can't NOT buy something truly spectacular when you're in the Fashion Kingdom. And just so I didn't feel completely selfish (although everyone needs to at some point each day!), I bought a few 'souvenirs' for Christmas pressies. :D


And to end a truly amazing day, this evening was so relaxing and happy. William's in Lyon with his AWFUL parents, Caroline and Marie have fled from Nazi's - sorry - 'left' Paris for their holiday in Switzerland, so it was just me, Margot and Juliette, being relaxed, unstressed and happy. It is so much simpler without the parents! They're alone this weekend (they're seeing Lady Gaga on Sunday before travelling to Switzerland on Monday) and I felt really sorry that they'd been abandoned, so I cooked a huge tub of pasta (they are true pasta-addicts), a cake and some chocolate cornflake cakes for them to have tomorrow. 


Oooh! And SHOCKING NEWS!!! (Hold tight to your jaws, readers!) - As Marie was leaving this lunch time... 1) She hugged me 2) She actually kissed me on the cheek (awww) 3) She was really friendly and smiley and even said 'merci' and 'au revoir' and 'joyeux Noel'. I take back everything horrible I said about her. Really. It's so LOVELY when she insists on taking the damn dog in the car, and ignores me after school. I cherish those moments together. I even gave her a box of chocolate cornflake cakes to have on the journey, which put another smile on her face. I think my heart skipped a little! (It's about to bounce right out of my mouth after all the handbags this morning!)


An early start tomorrow morning, and I hope the snow doesn't settle! 
(And please don't be too mad about the handbag quest, Dad...)

This does have a happy ending!

Oh my goodness, it will be a miracle if I make it to Saturday morning alive and still in one piece! This week has been HELL. As a karma-believer, this is definitely a sign though that Christmas will be absolutely fantastic, I'll get everything I've ever wanted, carpet under my feet, a nice bed, see all my friends and nothing will go wrong. I'm holding onto that thought. 

So YESTERDAY. Wow. The ULTIMATE 'worst Wednesday'. 8.00, driving the girls to school. Come back home and spend half an hour searching for a parking space. 10.30, picking one girl up (I can't even remember which one!). Return home and spend just as long looking for gap to park the car. 11.20, picking up the next one from school. Driving round the block several times for a space to wedge the car in. Then THIS is where things got really rough. 1.30, drive Margot to her school detention. Petrol light comes on. 2.00, Juliette to Tennis. Round the block twenty times looking for a goddamn parking slot. 3.00 Pick up Margot from school and drive to Tennis, return and drive round the block looking for pavement space to mount the car on. 4.00 Marie and friend want to go ice skating early. I want a holiday in New York, a petite chien and a wardrobe of Louboutins. We don't all get what we want. Unfortunately, Marie does get what she wants. So Ice Skating, with a stop off for petrol on the way. Her friend asks me annoying, idiotic questions all the way there. Return home, drive round the block several times before parking in front of the neighbours front gate. 15 minutes later the doorbell rings and it's the neighbour kindly asking to move my car - just temporarily. I look at my clock and realise it's time to go anyway to collect Juliette and Margot from Tennis. Collect the girls from tennis at 5, return home, ram-rade the car into a smallest gap halfway down the road. 5.30-6, William asks me to do some errands. Who am I? The errand-boy? I do them anyway, which results in me walking to the key-copier place three times, as William didn't give me enough money the first time, and then after the second decided he needed two copies of the same key. 6.30, collect Marie and friend from Ice Skating. They both refuse to come because they want to wait for 'Pere Noel'. When is he coming? They don't know. I should have told them he didn't exist. Now that would have put a smile on my face! I sit in the car for an hour and a half, stressing, ranting, shouting at everything, and then half-sleeping. My head is actually throbbing and my eyes are being held in their sockets my my closed eyelids. I dream of floating away to a clean white space where there are no screaming kids. I love how William thinks it's ok for them to stay as long as they want to see Father Christmas - it's not as if I've had a shit day at all, whilst he's stayed at home the entire day and watched me run around like a headless chicken.

8.00 I walk back into the ice rink place, glad to see that everyone's gone and they've had to wait for me. Good. They bloody deserve it. We get home, drive round the block umpteen times before I give up and park it in the one space furthest away. I look forward to the added stress of running to the car already late for school in the morning. I collapse into bed and I'm out like a light. 

This morning was not much better. It started at 8.30 with Juliette banging on my door telling me we were late. Very late. I sit up instantly, and the sudden realisation that an hour and a half ago, I'd switched my alarm off comes to me. Shit. We  make it to school for 9. Saturday feels like a life time away. Obviously this Christmas is going to be SO good, that this week needs to be crap just to balance it out. Juliette finishes school at 3. I can't be bothered to argue, so after seeing another music recital at Malesherbes, I race back to collect her. This evening, as I'm cooking tea, Margot presents the dreaded Bread and Butter pudding to me. There is no way I can get out of this one. Unsurprisingly, I'm expected to make the whole thing, whilst she does something equally as school-related and important... such as... checking Facebook and updating her status. Like I said, very important. The recipe sucks, so I ad-lib, toast the bread instead of fry it, and don't add as much milk - I'm still scarred for life from those school dinner puddings where the bread is drowning in milk and glob. When I pull it out of the oven, it looks a masterpiece. Finally, something has gone right. Like Julie says in 'Julie and Julia' - ' I love that after a day when nothing is sure, and when I say "nothing" I mean nothing, you can come home and absolutely know that if you add egg yolks to chocolate and sugar and milk, it will get thick. It's such a comfort.'. 

I'm still baffled however as to why it's called Bread and Butter pudding, as I didn't use butter at all... 

Then, to absolutely top the evening off, and a sign that everything will be FINE, and there's only one more day to go, I got another offer from a University. And I'm so happy! And so suddenly my day has been WONDERFUL, and I'm really excited about tomorrow! :D

Also, if anyone's feeling happy and Christmassy, DEFINITELY check out Jason Mraz's version of 'Winter Wonderland'. Omg, I can't stop humming it! (Thank you, Sarah Smythe!)

Wednesday

I'm ill. :( 
Juliette had a sore throat/cough, and so look who was next to get it! It's so 'lovely' that the one time they actually care about germs is when they're coughing away and DON'T want cough-germs on their hands. And I was awake again at 5.30 this morning. Well, it felt like HOURS before that, until I FINALLY decided to check my phone just in case it was 9am and we'd all slept in, and it was 5.30. Today though, I wasn't 'bouncing around'. It felt more like I was slowly dying in bed and getting through boxes of tissues. URGH. The week before I go home. 

Yesterday was awesome (despite being ill) - I went to Chatelet to buy a Christmas Present, and then walked from Chatelet across Paris to Malesherbes for a music concert at the Music School, which was a LOT better this time. Although I still don't understand why the musicians look so OLD!  Professors perform too, but don;t they have ANY students??! This time is was a violinist performing with her accompanist, and although I was a bit weary of the contemporary pieces (L.Janacek), the more classical ones were incredible. To my disappointment though, I discovered that there are no cellists in the January program. WHAT is the world coming to??? 

Salle Cortot, 78, rue Cardinet, 75017, Métro Malesherbes

Yesterday afternoon, Margot leapt into the car and jargled out a bunch of rapid-French, and I amazed myself by understanding what she was on about after she'd repeated it once! Her English tutor had given them all an English recipe for a pudding. The way she said 'poo-deeng' I understood she probably didn't know what it meant, so spent ages trying to explain how 'dessert' in French is 'pudding' in English, and then I asked her what the pudding recipe was, and she looked at me as if I'd asked if micro-pigs came before dinosaurs, and said 'Poo-deeng'. So obviously my explanation hadn't helped. I asked 'WHICH pudding', and finally got 'bread and butter'. OH mon dieu! Of ALL puddings, she has THAT?! Jeeze, that's hardly a traditional English pudding!! Although to be honest I can't think of a traditional English pudding other than Ban & Jerry's or Christmas Pudding... But Bread and Butter? That's the most horrendous concoction ever! Why would anybody want soggy bread with raisins after their meal? I think she's expecting me to 1) buy all the ingredients, and 2) make the pudding. Apparently her teacher wants to see them/ try them/ eat the whole lot on Friday. This is an English class, not a cookery class! And why on earth has everyone got the same recipe? The only thing worse than one bread and butter pudding is an entire class-worth of badly-attempted B&B puddings!

HOME in two days. TWO DAYS! And this 'big freeze' Daily Mail is predicting? If it affects the trains I'll be RUNNING home. 

Driving Me Nuts

ROSIE!!! You jinxed it!!! There I was, driving brilliantly, battling cars doomed to fail with three demanding kids in the back. And then she sent me this. And I laughed. And then this week happened, and I don't think I could get any more stressed by driving. 




I'm in the Renault Clio, which is a benefit, particularly as this week involves a LOT of maneuvers you're taught for your driving test but know you'll never actually need to do, such as a corner reverse. Anyway, this week, to top off the whole 'car breaking down' scenario, the garage door then broke. (It wasn't me - I wasn't anywhere near it!!). And to date back to my October post when I said 'the garage is still on it's hinges...' well now it's not looking so sure! So this week I'm in the Clio, and having to park at the front of the house. Except that the front of the house is a main road, and EVERYONE likes to park on the main road.

So every time I return home after dropping kids off or bringing them home, I have to drive round the block several times (yesterday was a total of 7 times) waiting and searching for even so much of a cranny to squeeze the fortunately-tiny car in. After returning from the school this morning I spotted a teeny space right by the front gate, and was DETERMINED to get the car in. To my luck, the car parked behind was about to leave, so after driving the nose into the space, I decided it'd be a lot easier to wait for the car behind to go so I could have plenty of space to drive in without the hassle of bumping bonnets! So I sat and waited. The man got out and preceded to de-ice his window with an ice-spatular and clean the entire front screen. And when I say clean, I mean spend 5 minutes ensuring that every morsel of ice and slight-snow was off the front screen. Including cleaning the wipers, and the top of the window where you don't even look out of. And where the centre mirror is glued to the window. All this whilst I sat glaring at him from my wing mirror. I almost ran out of the car to give him a hand yelling furiously 'mon Dieu! Depechez! Depechez! Vite vite!' and scrubbing the other side of the window for him to get it done, but decided against it. Eventually he went in the end.

Bloody Paris drivers!
It isn't that bad really... although the traffic lights probably make up a large percentage of my daily stress and hassles quota! 

Christmas Cleaning :)

I said there would be pictures, so here are pictures!! :D 
And you have to click on the 'Read More' for the surprise. 

  

  

The Christmas Buzz

It's 5.30am, and I'm awake like a night owl. I spent the night exciting over my cleaning session, and came up with the awesome idea of making a Christmas playlist!!! How amazing! :D So more exciting-ness, and I spent the rest of the night playing Christmas songs in my head and working out my Plan of Action for cleaning. I just want to go down NOW to do it, so no one starts to tidy up in the morning... Weird I know but if I'm going to have a major cleaning session, I want to be able to properly get my hands stuck in!! 

I guess this could be classed as practice for having to leave the house at 6am on Saturday morning to catch the Eurostar. But if anything, I'll be too excited to even go to sleep! I just want this week to hurry up!!

A Pre-Christmas Christmas!

Last Thursday, Catie and I went to the cinema to see my new love. Josh Duhamel in 'Bebe Mode D'Emploi' (or 'Life As We Know It' in English cinemas). Omigosh - so amazing. And the great thing with French cinemas (or really, any cinema other than in England), is that people are QUIET! People go to the cinema to WATCH films - not to sit down, have popcorn fights and chat for 2 hours in a dark room. Even our Canadian friends were shocked at the tales of English cinemas! So anyway, we were able to drool over Josh Duhamel in a quiet, calm and very comfy and warm cinema. 


And then today I went back for another Duhamel drooling-session (lol) and also to keep out of the house for today. It was just as good second time round, and I cried again in the Coca-Cola advert. IT IS sad!!!

I guess it was all just as well, as during my shopping spree I found a dress I've been searching for AGES, but has been a total sell-out in Paris, so I am absolutely delighted about that. And also a top to go with these Topshop trousers I bought ages ago but never wore because I had no top... And now they are majorly 'in', so Perfect timing! And to top it off, I returned home to a bomb-site. I guess I would have gone insane had I had to sit there the whole day slowly watching the house turn into a zoo ground.

Christmas. Is here. Today.

I came down this morning, to what looked like Christmas Morning. From nowhere, the living area had been turned overnight into Santa's Grotto. Seriously, there were presents EVERYWHERE. I wish I'd got a photo. It looked extremely impressive! There were presents taller and bigger than the Christmas tree, all beautifully wrapped. It was incredible. And the girls got to open them all today. Because as Marie told me, they'll get even more on Christmas Day. In Switzerland. On their Skiing holiday. In their Chalet. At Christmas. MORE PRESENTS! And this was only the living space! The kitchen had magically turned into a zoo of... dead things: an ENTIRE salmon fish, Oysters (which looked absolutely revolting - shells of phlegm...), chicken, Panetone, a percussion array of Baguettes, SO much chocolate, and about 4 pumpkins.

So my job tomorrow? TIDYING. I've planned to whack my iPod on some loud speakers with some super-cool dance tunes, and have a mad cleaning session with bin-bags and the hoover. I'm actually really looking forward to having an empty house, and to be able to get through all the crap! There is litter and paper and plastic bagging and cake crumbs EVERYWHERE. *I'm really excited!* ANDDDD there'll also be before and after pictures. Aren't YOU excited?! 


Also, just to add: this is my 100th post. :D

Winner winner chicken dinner!

This evening I have the task of cooking a chicken. A whole chicken. Ok, I admit it – the last two times (and only times) that there’s been a chicken on the table; it was the cleaner who cooked it. Tonight it’s just me. And one chicken. La poulet et moi. I am attempting to cook the chicken. It’s not even like I buy the things – I swear to God I’ll beat the person who does with the wishbone! Nahh well, it’s not like I can eat the thing anyway so it’s Caroline's fault this time if it goes horribly wrong. The thing that bugs me the most with this monstrous mound of meat is the MESS it makes. And I have no plastic gloves to touch it with... So I’ll be settling with either a plastic bag on each hand or kitchen roll. Do you have to baste these things? I don’t enough know what basting is other than you do it with Turkeys! Is it when people stuff stuffing up it’s ass? Seriously, I know more about cars than cooking a chicken. I made the huge mistake of searching for chicken-cooking on YouTube, and came across a perfectly ‘safe’ video with nothing bad or horrifying intended from it, but almost resulted in a panic attack and nose bleeds from the first 30 seconds of it. In a normal kitchen is the chef, with another chicken – almost identical - pale, flabby and presumably cold. He then instructs to remove the wish bone, and ‘peeling the flaps apart scrape inside on the breast bone’. Erm, I think I’ll stop it right here thanks! I am now scarred for life of the haunting image of this chef scraping up a chicken’s butt with a sharp knife. 

So here goes.

Step one. Removal of packaging. In my books, the hardest task. I’ve scrapped the idea completely of touching it – even with kitchen roll or bagging in between me and the chicken. It’s cold, flabby and pale. It looks horrendous. I gingerly cut around the cellophane whilst holding it still with the edge of a knife, and peel it back from the chicken. I attempt to lever the chicken up by sliding the knife blade underneath *shivers from images of the video* and hook the scissor blades under a drumstick bit. It’s like a science experiment. This is WORSE than when I had to dissect a pig’s heart. At least there were boys in the classroom to take over and poke and prod it like it was a sprout they didn’t want to eat. I have fearful scenarios in my head of the chicken slipping off the knife and onto me... Or it’s gooey covering getting ANYWHERE. I manage to safely and mess-free get it into the assigned dish and throw it in the oven. The hard bit over, and actually, I guess it wasn’t SO bad. Things can only get easier from now on... right?

 

An hour later I return to the kitchen and cautiously open the oven door. The chicken has morphed in some oil-spitting monster and hisses a spray of goo-juice at my face. *Slam door closed* I throw some rice into a pot and chop up carrots which seem determined to fly all over the place and NOT go into the saucepan. Soon everything’s boiling, and I can still hear the bird madly spitting at me from inside the oven. I’m trying not to think of all the oil that is now coating the oven.

Another hour later, and most of the chicken seems to have been eaten! No one’s sick (yet), and I have to add it looked like a perfectly normal roast chicken! I’m very proud of myself. I also had a go at ‘carving’, although I think ‘hacking’ describes it better. I even cut off parts! Which is actually gross as you can feel/hear the knife scraping through bone and cartilage. Yummy! The kitchen doesn’t look to bad either, and when I took the chicken out of the oven it was still acting violently, so I left it under a sheet of tin foil whilst I washed up all the pans I’d used. The girls seem to have enjoyed it, and Jean-pronounced-JOHN and Sabine also joined, so it can’t have been that bad! I can now honestly add ‘cooking a chicken’ to my resume, because really, it should be definitely be considered a ‘skill’.

Everything is A-OK!

Mon Dieu! I feel so happy and contented right now!
Caroline just broke the news to me that Juliette and Margot wanted to stay at home tomorrow and not go to school (what kid kid doesn't?!), and she's allowed it. They've never NOT been to school since I've arrived here, but I should be quite worried about an extra day of hell. But nope - I'm feeling too positive. Unless it's bad karma for the easy-ness of today?

Normally Wednesday is the WORST day (for Catie AND me!) because it's a non-school day in France (or just morning school for the older kids). For Catie it's a day of child-entertaining, and for me I spend the day taxiing around children. It's a pile of hoots. But after this morning's events with the car, and the huge and sudden amount of snow we've had this afternoon, the girls didn't go anywhere! We had a really lovely and peaceful afternoon, and I even brought my small DVD player down to plug into the TV in the living-area and we watched Twilight. In French! Who knew Edward Cullen could be EVEN SEXIER?? Oh god, my heart skipped a beat when he turns to Bella for the first time and says 'Bonjour'. *Squeals* You half expect a little glint in his eye and slight suggestive pout!!! Arghh :P And because I also know all the words to Twilight, it was pretty easy (and very educational!) watching it in French (without subtitles). I even extended my generosity further (even after sacrificing a packet of Betty Crocker mix) and made the best-ever looking mini-pancakes - also referred to as Scoth Pancakes/American Pancakes/Drop Pancakes... but to be honest I really can't tell the difference! The girls were very happy.



 


So today was pretty amazing. But it was yet to get even better!! I discovered this evening to my absolute AMAZEMENT, I have received an UNconditional offer to Bangor University! I can sit and twiddle my thumbs for the rest of the year and I'll still have a place in the summer! Oooh my giddy aunt! (Who's having the last laugh now?) So I finished the evening ringing Rosie (whom I'll remember to mention in my Oscar Award Acceptance Speech for forcing me to sit down and embark on the mission of UCAS Applications) and dancing round the house like a Katie Waissel who's scraped it through to the next week on X-Factor once again.

The End is Nigh?

Could this FINALLY be the death of the car?
This morning I was collecting Margot from school, and as I was waiting for her, suddenly a few warning lights came on the dashboard. I didn't take much notice of them, as there ALWAYS seems to be warning lights on, but one said 'STOP' and the other was the battery light. There wasn't anything I could do anyway, and Margot arrived. But as I was pulling the car out, the steering wheel was so stiff and heavy, and I was worried the car would suddenly stop. I kept on going though, as the weather was crap and I couldn't really leave the car stranded, so I struggled home. Halfway home another light came on (all of them red) of an outline of the engine and the word 'stop' in the centre - I had this in my Fiat in England for a while and so knew that the symbol could mean a range of things - from simply being a faulty light to a serious life-threatening car-exploding consequence. I made it home, despite the awful steering, and fortunately there weren't many cars on the road, so I was able to take the tight corners a little wider than usual - the steering made corners so difficult.

I was very relieved to be back home safely, without having been catapulted from the car from school to the house in a huge explosion, and after speaking to my Dad he said that the red warning lights were all very serious and not to drive the car. I was pretty grateful at that part, seeing as I hate playing taxi each Wednesday, and also it's started to snow MAJORLY, and although I'm very capable of driving in the snow, I'd much rather stay indoors!

Batch 1 of Betty Crocker Cookie Mix finally came in use this afternoon - Caroline wouldn't give me money for the shopping on Monday because she wanted to use up what we had in the kitchen. I'm not complaining as I don't think anyone would particularly want to give up 2 hours of their day pushing a tiny-but-overflowing trolley around an insufficient store. So I've had to really scrape the barrel when it comes to meals - and obviously Wednesday is the hardest as I have to prepare two big meals, both different and varied (lunch and dinner). Fortunately I've kept the cupboards stocked on grains - rice and pasta etc which make good meals for the girls, and plenty of tins and pestos, but the meat stores are depleting, and lunch was rice and three quid rings each for the girls (that is literally all we have)! They then expected me to provide desert (I'm not Mary Berry you'know!), and because it was snowing, and the morning had actually been very calm and pleasant (despite the car) - quite possibly because we were without any flappy parents, and the girls are so much better when neither parent is here, so I made the cookies and suggested the idea of dunking them in milk which they liked. Good bonding times! :)

Also, yesterday I saw the laptop I'm hoping to get for Christmas, and it is 'even better than the pictures' (Parent Trap quote for you, Catie!) - it's hot pink (but completely not Barbie-esque), and so amazing. :) I'll be getting it from PC World as it's MUCH cheaper in England, and I'll get a much better warranty on it (it is apparent my family have a history of punching their computer screens in frustration...). I'm so excited to be actually getting a laptop with a SCREEN! It feels like I've had a box monitor attached to my laptop for AGES.

The Largest Shopping Mall in Continental Europe

First announcement: THE GRANDPARENTS ARE GONE!!!! This really calls for much bigger celebrations, but I'm currently trying to re-clean everything and load the kitchen into the dishwasher. Since she's arrived, the dishwasher hasn't been working right... And the cough she's been trying to germ me with hasn't spread so PHEW! I really don't need her Granny-Germs in time for Christmas. *Her evil plan failed*


Today I went to La Defense avec Catie. Wikipedia states it's the largest shopping mall in continental Europe, which I'm choosing to believe merely because I love boasting about the fact I WENT THERE!! It's the grand arch surrounded by sky scrapers and glass domes, which is at the end of the line of mounmnents - The glass pyramid at the Louvre, Place de la Concorde, L'arc de Triompe, Eiffel Tower, and La Defense. It was really good. Starbucks, Snow storms and some really good finds in the shops. And there was also a Christmas Market on one of the roof tops which was really impressive - and much better than the Champs Elysees market. And I think I have actually found someone else who knows the entire of Parent Trap as well! (Don't look so stunned, brothers!) O.M.G. Usually people are like 'Yahh I know all the words' but Catie and I KNOW all the words. The intonation, they emphasis on the words, the accents. We went round La Defense saying aloud random scenes (secretly testing each other? - we both passed anyway!) and got so distracted by it she knocked over an entire bottle of fruity-spirits she'd just bought from the market for a Christmas present. Way to go on ruining the fun! (I blame the bottle.) So that added to the eventful-ness of the day, but if I see my face pasted up on the H&M notice boards accompanied with a 'Banned/Barred' header, it won't be the bottle I'm blaming! Ha I'm kidding Catie. :P

 

  

  

This evening I cooked 'Dinde' for the kids. I have no idea what 'Dinde' is - for all I know it could be 'whale genitals dipped in sea scum and stuffed with foie gras', but something tells me that the French wouldn't have one word for THAT delicatessen. Or would they...?! Anyway, they looked more or less like chicken fillets, and it went down well so the plan to inconspicuously poison them didn't work this time. Darn! Better luck next time. Oh. I just discovered that it was turkey. Well that would explain the chicken-esque-ness! 

Crazy Weather but an UH-MAZING day

Today officially marked 'Christmas' for me as I walked with Catie up and back down the Champs Elysees from Place de Concorde (after showing her the one-and-only WHSmiths in Paris - my little piece of Heaven!) to see the Christmas Market! It was really lovely - slightly tacky - but what Christmas Market isn't?! All the stalls were set up in little chalet-type cabins, selling all the usuals - a LOT of salami, chocolate, Russian Dolls, woodcrafts, hundreds of pashmina and woolly hat stalls, and even more fast-food stores selling hot dogs, chips, crepes, doughnut sticks... You name it! What also added to the Christmas-effect was torrential snow, particularly annoying when you're walking and it starts filling up your ear, but best for detecting craply-made foot wear. Catie's Zara boots proved very disappointing, and resulted in the poor girl hanging up her socks to dry in a cafe and stuffing her boots with napkins. My well-doused-in-waterproof-spray FitFlop boots survived the snow storm which I was chuffed about! 

 

  

  

The Christmas market was good though, although who would actually buy even ONE of those foul-smelling roasted chestnuts I'll never know, and the obsession for Amber jewellery was quite absurd! Anyway it was fun (I don't think I've ever seen so much chocolate in all my life!), and Catie's now got me hooked on Gap (we went to some 'real' shops as well), though the Parisian prices are a huge deterrent. We searched the entire store for the most gorgeous cashmere stripey snood, and upon finding it, learned it was a sweet 109 euros! We looked in H&M at dresses for Christmas, and Zara fuelled my passion for elbow-padded jackets. :)

Later this afternoon after stocking up on magazines from Smiths, we caught the metro down to Porte de Versailles to meet up with some more friends - Canadian/American, living in France for a year whilst studying in French. I was instantly jealous of the fact they have their own flat! But it was so great being with a group of English speaking people. I laughed so much this afternoon/evening - always the best medicine - and my hot chocolate making skills were extremely appreciated. 


This evening I returned home at the same time Mrs Meddle was walking into the main room with a handful of steak knives to lay the table. She didn't look to happy to see me, so made a dash for it (and my life!) upstairs. I was deliberating how best to annoy her regarding all the cups in the sink - which were STILL there. I think she even put the dishwasher through yesterday - but deliberately didn't put the cups and things left in the sink through. And she's how old??? *eye roll to the back of my brain and beyond* I could either have left the cups there, or tipped all the water down the forbidden-drain and then put them in the dishwasher. In the end I took the upper ground; tipped all the water down the sink, loaded up the dishwasher and put it through on the highest and longest wash (sorry, Planet...). I figured she'd only leave them there until she leaves (if she ever will), and I'd be faced with them on Monday, or Tuesday, or Easter... (WHEN WILL SHE LEAVE?)


14 days till I come home!!! :D:D:D So excited - I'll get my CAR, EMAILS on my BlackBerry, Shops with good prices, my DEBIT CARD to use wherever and whenever without the worry/annoyance of exchange rates, oooh and CARPETS, comfy sofas and a hoard of chick flicks! (Get ready for a movie marathon, Rosie!!!) And when we're putting up the Christmas Tree we've planned to watch Parent Trap! I think only my brothers know the full meaning of 'I know all the words!' when I talk about Parent Trap... (Be warned!)

Waiting for the weekend

So, just as my week was ending on a 'well, it hasn't even felt like a week - it's been so good!', Mrs Meddle...interfered.

She'd been out all afternoon (meddling elsewhere no doubt), although I didn't know how long she'd gone for, so decided against putting the dishwasher back through on a high-temp wash. I still couldn't unload it though because the things inside are STILL DIRTY! I figure I'll just spend Monday putting the whole kitchen through the dishwasher... (Mainly to get everything 'Connie-Clean' again, but also to stick two fingers up behind her back!)

The girls all finished at ridiculous times today - 12.10, 3pm and 4.30 so I couldn't really get anything done this afternoon. I felt like a bloody bus service! By the time I'd arrived back home with one kid, refreshed my Facebook page and checked my emails, I had to get the next one! And surprise surprise, they each came back and made a load of mess, but because I couldn't empty the dishwasher, I couldn't clear it up. Then the meddlesomes arrived back this evening, and She kind of flipped at the kitchen. Can't say I'd blame her, but it was her stupid idea to insist on a washing-up bowl in the sink - people WILL automatically throw their cups and plates in and assume someone else will wash it up. Or, *magically* water-elves living in the depths of the washing-up bowl will swim up to the surface and scrub everything clean until shiny, and place it neat and dry on the side.

But then she started having a big go at me - as I was about to rush out of the door to collect the girls from Tennis, about how Margot hadn't cooked the burger she'd left on the side for her at lunch, and it had defrosted and now had to go in the bin (did she really think Margot would actually OPEN a packet, let alone COOK something?) - that I was supposed to have seen it and put it back in the freezer, and there were cups in the sink and on the side that weren't hers, and practically bit my head off when I said they weren't mine either. But then she was saying I should clean it up etc so I told her that the girls were 12 and 14 (I'm definitelycertain she needed this reminder) and that they weren't babies. Then she went a bit more mental and was practically hopping all over the kitchen!

This was probably one of the hardest arguments I've ever had in my life, because I could have won it a million times over if we actually spoke the same language. I couldn't remember the word 'to leave' and then thought 'partir' was 'to leave...a place', and not 'to leave something there'. I got to a point where it felt like I was speaking really s.l.o.w.l.y. so I could make precise points and not screw up because it was already taking up half my brian mechanisms to locate my French vocabulary in the midst of my desires to chuck the washing-bowl with grimy water at her and stun her with English sarcasm and insults.

Hey - she's the one who took over this week! She's completely shut me out, never-has-and-won't cook tea for me (I'm just the au-pair), there's just an awkward silence of hatred between us when we're in the same room (same for Mr Meddle - he doesn't say anything to me, and never has...) and so if she doesn't want to clean up the mess at the end of the week then tough titties. There is NO WAY I'm doing it. As far as I'm concerned, my Friday is OVER and the weekend is my free time. I'll buy some balloons for their departure (if they ever leave!).

OH MON DIEU. Phewey. It just makes me want to annoy her some more. This week I've been secretly filling the washing up bowl to the top with water just so she has to empty it outside (the pipes leak, and BEFORE she came we just had a bowl underneath the pipes to catch the water... but now she's trying to avoid having ANY water go down the drain...). Anyway, deep breaths, and tomorrow morning I'm flying off to wonderland (aka getting the train to Champs D'Elysees) to see Catie for a whirlwind of an adventure (no grandparents included)! And by the time I've been dobbed in to William or Caroline, they'll be gone, and Crazy Caroline will be too worried in her mission to kill off a few more polar bears, melt several glaciers and crank up global warming a further notch - sorry, I mean, 'add to her beautiful Garden of eternally-lit outdoor Christmas decorations including reindeer, gnomes and giraffes' to even remember they were here.

Spendaholic and Scrimper go SHOPPING!

HOW did this happen?

I'll tell you how. I asked William for a cheque for the shopping, because despite Mrs Meddle (AKA The Scrimper) going to the shops everyday, none of her shopping trips returned with anything that the girls particularly like, or that this household uses. So I needed to go shopping to GET the stuff we needed. However, Mrs Meddle intervened, and ended up taking the cheque.

So this afternoon, she refused to give me the cheque, whilst I refused to give her William's ID FOR the cheque. I'm not being mean, I'm just playing her own little game. So she said we'd go together. OHMYGOD. I could have thrown the ID down and run in the opposite direction screaming, but OH NO. I was going to have some fun with this.

She insisted we walked to the shop, even when I suggested that she could walk and I'd take the car (I'm in the Renault Clio again!), but she said we weren't taking the car. 1-Nil to her. Damn. So we walked, with me striding ahead - I have long legs, plus she insisted on taking a stupid little granny-cart along to carry the shopping back. (1-1) I don't think she realised how many items a 'week's shopping' was... At the store I got a trolley - refusing to use her silly-sack (1-2) and charged round the store doing my usual shop (1-3). I kept having to wait for her though, whilst she put food in the trolley that we don't even need, and that nobody but her would eat such as dark chocolate biscuits (2-3). NO KID EATS DARK CHOCOLATE. We followed my route around the store, whilst she wanted to do it in the order she'd written her list (2-4 to me). I argued all the cleaning products into the trolley (2-5), and she argued her smelly cheese into the trolley, despite me repeating her line of 'plus cher' (too expensive). I see that the frugalator is now a fraud.

Both of us stubborn, when we reached the tills, there was about two of everything in the cart. She said she was shopping for William until Sunday, so we didn't need much, and I said that the girls were here for the next week, so we were doing a week's shop - whether William was there or not. She then asked me 'who are the girls?'. Obviously she scrimped on her memory too. *eye roll*

After paying (me handing over the ID and her handing over the cheque) I returned the trolley to the front of the store, whilst she faffed around trying to cram as much items into the granny-cart, before leaving it by the tills because she conveniently had no hands to carry (she'd got the lighter bags). What a sneaky trickster (3-5). So I lugged the granny cart AND one bag home - pacing ahead (after all, I the cart thing was heavy!).

Putting Up A Fight

This morning as we were rushing out of the door, late AGAIN for school (Juliette didn't get out of bed until 7.50, and insisted on having a shower...) Mrs Meddle started squawking French at me - I knew it was going to be either about the fact I put the dishwasher back through on another wash, as the cups and plates were STILL dirty after the previous wash, OR the fact I'd sneaked my clothes into the washing machine and put it on, OR the fact I was walking out of the door in 'only' a skirt and jumper. Or all three. Anyway, we were late so I ran after Juliette and Margot with her still screeching out of the doorway. 

In the car it struck me that maybe she'd turned the washing machine OFF, to save the wash for more clothes, and so spent the entire car journey fuming and working myself up into a rage. The HOUR-long trip home didn't help, and I could start to feel my hair rising up on end... They were doing some sort of road/building work on one of the 'main' roads, but because ALL the roads are one way/ no entry, by the time you'd driven up to the signs, you couldn't turn round, and as it is a main connecting road (and one of the few contraflow routes!) EVERYONE seemed to have gone that way. And for anyone wondering why traffic lights are called 'le fuir rouge' in French (and not 'vert', 'jaune' or just 'lumiere'), you only have to spend 5 minutes in a queue at the traffic lights which then let in 30-seconds worth of traffic through before switching back to red to find out. It took me an HOUR to do a ten minute journey. I practically had to drive round the whole outskirts of the town. So I returned an hour later, stressed and frustrated, and then sat down next to the washing machine whilst it went through (ok, so she hadn't turned it off), and prepared myself for the worst when I then put my stuff into the tumble dryer (IT'S WHAT WE DO IN THIS HOUSE). And sure enough she came shuffling down (she wears annoying slippers that hang off her feet and drag along the floor) and had a huge rant at me about how it used up electricity and heat (I think the dish-washer came involved too), and how I was supposed to use a net-bag if I wanted to keep my stuff separate....[Yawn] blah blah blah. I tired to look as bored and unconcerned as possible and waited for her to ramble her way into a void in space where aliens would use her as a device to 'phone home'. Well, needless to say, that didn't happen but she did FINALLY shuffle off. I still sat through to the end of the tumble dryer session though. 

She also dobbed me into William, who added later that putting the dishwasher through at 40 degrees was 'better for the planet'. So WHY three light-up reindeer and a sleigh have appeared in the garden and were lit (from an outdoor electrical plug) throughout the day and will-be through the night, I have no idea. So much for 'saving the planet'. I'd also like to add, that I'm the ONLY one here who recycles anything. YESTHAT'SRIGHT - Even the Scrimping Squawker throws boxes and milk cartons into the bin. And I rather think that having one less milk bottle in landfill will help the planet more than one less machine wash. Because if one person turns off a light, it is not going to change the world. 

Paris at Christmas!

More window shopping today - Galleries La Fayette is the equivalent of London's Selfridges, and so all their windows were 'done up' for Christmas. Not nearly as spectacular or classy as Selfridges, but they were fun and child-friendly. This year they were carrying the theme of 'musicals', so each window was related to a particular musical. I took Catie along and she added to the Christmas spirit with her red coat and singing all the theme tunes!

  

 

Mary Poppins and Singing in the Rain (changed to 'snow') were both great - with mannequins dressed up in the windows and for Mary Poppins, bits and bobs on strings flying out of her carpet-bag, although the photos didn't come out too great because of the glass reflections. There was also West Side Story, Mamma Mia and Hairspray. Printemps had a FANTASTIC window, which I truly loved (and not because it was pretty much completely pink). All of the window displays 'moved' in someway - puppets or items tied to fibre-string, so supposedly moved 'by themselves'. The Printemps window (see below) was set up with loads of tables, with little puppets (very clever) having a big tea part, with huge pink cakes etc. It reminded me of my Textiles project! :)

  

  

A Language the whole world understands

Today Catie and I went to a music lunchtime concert! I was very excited about it, as I've been really missing the sound of my (or any) cello or stringed instrument, and was delighted the other day to arrive at a metro station where there was a small string orchestra performing. 

When Granny came out in October, she bombarded me with several newspaper cuttings and information sheets (anyone who knows her will understand the true meaning of 'bombard'!), including a program sheet of lunchtime concerts put on by the The ECOLE NORMALE DE MUSIQUE (founded in 1919 by the famous pianist Alfred Cortot). The school (probably equivalent of Birmingham Conservatoire etc) has lunchtime concerts every Tuesday and Thursday for students (of 'diplôme supérieur') and music professors to perform to the public (free admission). 


Fortunately Catie and I share similar interests, so we were both pretty excited! Unfortunately I didn't enjoy today's concert so much, as it was dominated by one flautist-professor, and every piece performed included the flute, including a bass flute which looked more like part of a Hoover accessory. However, I can finally admit that I've finally heard someone play actually PLAY a guitar, and that those instruments can do more than play the bass line to a done-to-death rock song. It was good, and just being in the Art Deco concert hall brought back all those endearing memories of my performing days. Ahh. I sound like a circus horse, but it was always nice being on a big floor-boarded stage with grand piano behind me and a (very scary and judgmental-looking) audience in a curve in front of me. 

So, it's definitely something I'll do again - particularly if it's every Tuesday and Thursday, and gets me out of this house. I have a new program of all the December concerts, so hope to get in on some cello-action! :)


Meanwhile, Catie and I decided that Harry Potter is definitely the thing to do this Thursday morning. Expelliarmus, Expecto Patronum and all that jazz. 

Scrimper and Snooper

THEY ARE HERE FOR A WEEK. 
*Going insane*


The grandparents. WILL NOT GO. Even the cleaner can't stand them either - they had a row the other day, to my amusement. Sure enough though, I'd be pretty pissed off if I turned up to find someone had already done my job... by THEIR way, and were insistent that I follow their instructions. Jeeze. Then this morning, the grand-dad had the AUDACITY to have a go at me because 'apparently' I'd been told three times not to pour water down the sink, and to use the washing up bowl (the pipes leak... into ANOTHER washing bowl underneath the sink, so it's not as if it was the end of the world!). I mean, we managed perfectly fine without them and their stupid washing bowls. And I haven't been told 'three times'; I was barked at in French just the one time. 


A week. ONE WEEEEEEEK. *Paddy tantrum on the floor* They are driving me MENTAL. They even prepare all the vegetables for tea by 11am! All the carrots chopped and washed in the designated saucepan. ARGH! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!! I can't DO anything whilst they're here! I feel trapped in my room, whilst they prowl around downstairs. They're a complete pair of MEDDLING MATTY'S. 


I managed to escape from the house for most of Sunday - meeting up with some friends of my Granny, and who I knew when I was little. It was nice to talk a) English and b) about NORMAL things. It was wonderful to see you Kate and Brian! :D

 

Also, we've got SNOW! :) It is quite bitterly cold outside - the house is still a sauna, but temperatures were down to -4oC this morning. And... lacking on sleep: Sunday evening I went to bed with one of the house phones in my room. I usually put it on the landing (OUTSIDE my room) ever since the stranger-in-the-night episode, but this time I was tired and thought 'Ahh, no one will call in the night. Who would be so stupid?' Well yes, who WOULD be so stupid and SELFISH to call at 3.30 AM??? I was half asleep so didn't pick it up, but was ready to throw it out of the window. THREE THIRTY! And no one else bothered to pick it up. Fortunately they didn't re-ring, so I got back to sleep, but OH MY LORD!

Pain in the French Ass

This weekend William’s parents came to stay. It was a bit of a shock to the system to have infuriating old people around in the house. I guess they were here to see that their truly amazing son ‘do them proud’, and show off his amazing skills at turning the dishwasher on. Or cooking a meal all by himself fresh from the freezer packet. OR EVEN put the packet in to the dustbin [gasps from the audience]. What a talented boy. Though they’re obviously waiting ‘til he’s a bit older to teach him the harder things in life such as the many methods of opening an ironing board, as the mother was doing the ironing this morning. Such a breathtaking weekend break! OTHER PEOPLE’S IRONING! WOOP! Let’s all send out postcards!

More infuriating-ness: The grandmother said I shouldn’t put the dishwasher through until fully loaded it because it was very expensive. A good point, although I was putting half the previous wash back through again, because with their whole ‘money saving’ ideas, (since when has this family EVER had the notion to save money?) they put it through on a cooler wash and crammed half the kitchen-ware into it, so it then didn’t go through properly. Maybe that’s why this family DOES throw money around... because their parents were such irritatingly-frugal wimps.

Even more infuriating-ness: The grandparents practically FOLLOWED ME AROUND all morning. I woke up early (dammit) and made the mistake of coming downstairs. Then whilst I was in the kitchen the grandmother kept following me about, informing me the plums were either too ripe or not ripe yet (didn’t understand her French), despite the fact I wasn’t planning to have a plum, and just interfering. OH MY GAWD. Just reminiscing about it makes me want to bang my head against my make-shift MDF computer desk. I soon shot back upstairs.

Also, whoever said that the countryside is quiet was obviously an old deaf farmer living underground in his war bunker, as this morning I opened my skylight to Paris Dawn, and it was absolutely silent. It was quieter than a Quaker meeting. It was amazing. 

The Animal Inside

Another superb day. Wowee, I’m on a bit of a roll here! This morning I went into Paradise-that-is-known-as-Paris, and did some shopping. I started off at Concorde, with good old WH Smiths (‘THE English bookshop in the whole of Paris’) giving in to my magazine addiction and coming out with British Vogue (a super duper edition this month) and Heat magazine. Then I worked my way up Rue Rivoli, towards Chatelet stopping at nearly every shop, and taking photos of all the designer shops (miu miu, Dianne Von Furstenberg, Gucci, CHANNEL, Mulberry, D&G, you name it). H&M had the top I wanted, the Super-size Sephora store had the soap I wanted... It was pretty much perfect. My aim for today was to buy a fur coat, so I was heading towards Rag and Vertiges, near Centre Pompidou. Finally made it, and spent a while trying on a LOT of dead animals. Who knew it could be so fun?! Although I put on one coat and it was so heavy, the goat/yak/mammoth might as well have sat on my shoulders! 

So, Super-Aunt said my bag LOOKS like a mauled cat, but now I have a coat that IS a mauled cat. Bad joke.
Had to take a photo of the pretty Patisserie windows - they really are a piece of cake! :P TWO bad jokes. 

  

 

Also, each time I do a Christmas shop in Sephora, they ask if it's a present (which is is), and then they put the items in a plastic silver bath with fancy paper and gift wrap it all up... Which is very lovely and all, but I now appear to have three silver baths in my room, and a mission of 'reasonably' light packing when I come home for Christmas. Oh well... IT'S CHRISTMAS. 

So, I returned home, with several shopping bags (I guess the feelings of delight from my half-term shopping spree in England have worn off), a huge fur coat (so, so beautiful), yet another silver bathtub, and feeling pretty exhausted. But, no rest for the girls in Paradise, as I was off out again at 7 to meet up with some French friends for the evening. And it was pretty amazing! And a bunch of nationalities – Morgane and her friend were French, but one guy was American, another was Irish, another was Italian... and so we all spoke French. It was a really good evening, and SO NICE to have people speaking English – able to translate, and to hear such beautiful American!! 

We went to a African bar in Jussieu (a hangman killer!), which provided a whole new experience for me! We sat underground in a small 'cubby' area, with sofas covered in hide and little African-carved stools. One of the guys ordered for us, and soon we received a huge dustbin-lid-sized dish, full of [I'm not exactly sure...] but included onions (always a winner with me!), and a plate of plain savoury crepes. The trick it to tear a piece of crepe, place it over the mush-in-the-dish, and scoop it up. It was a very similar action to picking up that accidental dog poop with a tissue in a children's playground, or the dead mouse the cat just brought in with some kitchen roll. Lav-ly. Despite being totally appalled by the whole idea of eating-with-your-fingers, which I still find utterly yukky, it was an eye-widening experience particularly for Paris, AND they even (thankfully) gave us sachets of warm hand wipes after. Saved! And if I ever go to Africa, I now know to take an extra suitcase stuffed with wet wipes. 

284 Steps

Today I met up with my English-but-in-Paris friend, Catie for a small (belated) birthday celebration and... because it's nice to see friends. And have a reason to squeal 'OH MY GOD' several times and run about Charles de Gaulle metro in excitement (well, nearly) and sit in a Parisian cafe for hot chocolate without feeling the need to act Parisian. It was very exciting, and she also bought me some b-e-a-utiful roses for my birthday. And, as it was such a lovely day, we even went up to the top of The Arc de Triomphe! :) I still hadn't been because I was waiting for a clear day, and today seemed perfectomundo! It was only after we'd got our tickets (free for under 26s) that I remembered there being nearly 300 steps up to the top! (Luckily we had practical footwear - I nearly came in heeled boots!) So we set our muscles in momentum and missioned our way to the top where we were greeted with beaming sunshine and a panoramic view of Paris. Ooh la la! 

So finally, some PICTURES!!! :)

 

 

Happy Days

Ok, so WOW my optimism has been mind-blowing this week! :) 
Yesterday I sent out an email to some lucky people from the same au-pair site I'd used - they were all my age (by coincidence), able to drive and cook, and looking for a short period to au-pair. I think just writing about it (in a positive, 'BUY THIS!' way) made me realise how amazing this experience is! And even just the thought of having to LEAVE it all in April - with only 2 months to go - is actually really sad! So now I've been making the most of everything! (And no, that doesn't mean free telephone calls with the house phone), but just enjoying my time here, seeing the funny side of everything and being happy with and for the family. Because they really are lovely, Even when they won't get out of bed until we need to leave in the mornings, and then William tells me I need to leave the house at five to eight, or when Crazy Caroline comes back and raids the kitchen whilst I'm seconds away from serving tea, or she starts eating tea OUT of the cooking pot with the spoon I was using, or when Marie-the-Menace insists on taking Speedy in the car, even though I know I'll be the one to have to bring it back... It's a bag of laughs! 

Today, by some MIRACLE, I managed to see the new Harry Potter. Most of the cinema times were too late to go, so I was pinning all my hopes on this 9.45am showing in Chatelet Les Halles. What I hadn't planned was Juliette calling me as I had my foot out the door (after loading and putting the dishwasher through, tidying all three rooms and putting all the towels through the washing machine) asking me to come and pick her up. At 9am. Do these girls actually EVER go to school? So grudgingly (but of course, with a big optimistic smile on my face at how lucky I am and amazing my life is) I got in the car and picked her up from school. 

I dropped her back at home, parked the car, and ran down the the station and fortunately there was a train waiting at the station (see how LUCKY I am?!). However, the downside, is that all the morning trains seem to be MUCH slower than usual... maybe to reduce the number of people missing the trains? Anyway, it practically CRAWLED through all the stations, with several 'rests' in between stations, whilst I continually kept checking my beloved Blackberry for the time. 5 minutes to go. 3 minutes to go. Remember, there's always 15 minutes of adverts... 2 minutes... 

AMAZINGLY, (did she do it? did she get there?) I got to the ticket booth at exactly 9.44am. Just. Amazing. The ticket man was really nice, and I even spoke pretty amazing and understandable French! And I was in time, exactly, for the start of the adverts. (I do love all the adverts.) SO, I've finally got to see the new Harry Potter! It came out in Paris yesterday, but EVERYONE seems to have seen it in England twice over! I'd expected the cinema to be packed, but it was only about 60% full (look at me with my maths skills!) - I guess people (kids) were either waiting for the weekend, or were seeing the dubbed version instead. 

So it was a pretty eventful day! I did another spot of Christmas shopping after the cinema, and got home to a fantastic email to one of my au-pairing applicants who's travelling round the world and currently in Australia. I bombarded my reply with heaps of photos of the house/rooms etc  which she'd been asking about. Then this afternoon is HAILED!! I mean, I dread to think what it's like in England. Usually when it's 'ok' in England it's heatwave-weather in Paris, so if Paris is bad, jeeze - bring out the sandbags and stock up for the Winter peeps!! 

Hmm. Now the question is: what shall I poison the family with tonight for supper? :D