I am aware of my blogging absence. Last week was hell, and the weekend rather 'topped it off'. I won't go into detail, but one tip: always bring money with you. And the metro stations don't allow reduced tariff tickets (under 10 years age) after around 8pm. i was unfortunate to discover both those things at the weekend.
So now it's almost Tuesday. My achievement of the day? Well, picking up a raw chicken in it's packaging was big progress - really, but to top that one off, I actually made it to the Tennis Tournament place WITHOUT getting lost! Ha! Take that! We'd been there once before - the time we ended up driving INTO Paris centre for the first time of my life by complete mistake and eventually arrived an hour late, but this time the amazing achievement was all down to ME. I found the address online, tapped it into the GPS which worked amazingly (as amazing as built-in sat navs can get!), and didn't get lost. And we arrived there 25 minutes early. :) Returned home, cooked tea, and I'm now waiting for them to call me. *Please finish soon and not after 9pm!* I really don't fancy driving there and back again in complete darkness which a vague sat-nav. You'd have thought they'd be more detailed and accurate, but I've come to realise that 'prepare to turn left' DOES NOT mean 'turn left at the next opportunity'. And that 'prepare to turn left' could mean left in 5 metres, of 500 metres. Just useless.
I'm feeling pretty dead right now. If I didn't have to go back out this evening, I could relax peacefully in bed. But no rest. I have done a total of 5 school runs today, yes, FIVE. And each journey to this tennis venue is a bum-numbing 40 minutes. EACH WAY. :/
4 days. FOUR DAYS. Four days and I have sanity coming via Eurostar to stay for a week. What can go wrong in four days?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Thank God it's Friday!
This week. Has been. A NIGHTMARE.
William decided to grace us with his presence on Monday, and I ended up cooking a chicken for eight people. EIGHT people. He's back this week to celebrate Margot's birthday on Sunday. She's *only* going round Paris in a limousine... nothing spectacular then.
Last week everyone was ill, but the fact that I'm now ill this week has no effect (of course not - I'm only the au-pair!) so life goes on. Insight into yesterday: William said he'd let me know if he was eating tea at home with us or staying out in Paris. Oh, choices choices choices. If he WAS eating here, then he wanted me to wait for him to arrive so he could eat with the girls. So at 8pm I'm still hanging around to see if I'm cooking three burgers or four. He then FINALLY phoned Marie to announce his arrival.
Last night's meal really did prove my point that I may as well feed them toilet paper, as the meal probably had the nutritional content of utter CRAP. We were low on everything, and being French they LOVE meat, and aren't even satisfied with mince meat in spaghetti. Nooo they like huge slabs of meat. So I scraped together burger, chips and eggs. I feel mortified that I even served something as unhealthy and greasy as THAT. It looked HORRENDOUS, and not a green piece in sight on the plate. They, however, were absolutely DELIGHTED. In all seriousness, they LOVED it. Maybe if I just give them mugs of oil and saturated fat in the future they'd love me just as much! They may even think Christmas had come round sooner!
Anyway, thanks-a-bundle it's Friday. Please can I just go into hibernation now? Feeling slightly more positive though - I've spring cleaned my room, planning wonderful things for Rosie's room, there's a cake in the oven and I've made a big bowl of tomato pasta with mincemeat for the girls after tennis, which can be reheated when they want it or when His Majesty decides to descend upon us. I. AM. AMAZING. (If i may say so myself!)
Positive news of the week. An unconditional offer from Chester. The way they're giving out all these unconditionals makes them sound as valuable as... oranges! But no complaints. Another highlight of the week is that I think I've actually conquered the Pluperfect Tense in French Grammar. *Chandler Dance*
William decided to grace us with his presence on Monday, and I ended up cooking a chicken for eight people. EIGHT people. He's back this week to celebrate Margot's birthday on Sunday. She's *only* going round Paris in a limousine... nothing spectacular then.
Last week everyone was ill, but the fact that I'm now ill this week has no effect (of course not - I'm only the au-pair!) so life goes on. Insight into yesterday: William said he'd let me know if he was eating tea at home with us or staying out in Paris. Oh, choices choices choices. If he WAS eating here, then he wanted me to wait for him to arrive so he could eat with the girls. So at 8pm I'm still hanging around to see if I'm cooking three burgers or four. He then FINALLY phoned Marie to announce his arrival.
Last night's meal really did prove my point that I may as well feed them toilet paper, as the meal probably had the nutritional content of utter CRAP. We were low on everything, and being French they LOVE meat, and aren't even satisfied with mince meat in spaghetti. Nooo they like huge slabs of meat. So I scraped together burger, chips and eggs. I feel mortified that I even served something as unhealthy and greasy as THAT. It looked HORRENDOUS, and not a green piece in sight on the plate. They, however, were absolutely DELIGHTED. In all seriousness, they LOVED it. Maybe if I just give them mugs of oil and saturated fat in the future they'd love me just as much! They may even think Christmas had come round sooner!
Anyway, thanks-a-bundle it's Friday. Please can I just go into hibernation now? Feeling slightly more positive though - I've spring cleaned my room, planning wonderful things for Rosie's room, there's a cake in the oven and I've made a big bowl of tomato pasta with mincemeat for the girls after tennis, which can be reheated when they want it or when His Majesty decides to descend upon us. I. AM. AMAZING. (If i may say so myself!)
Positive news of the week. An unconditional offer from Chester. The way they're giving out all these unconditionals makes them sound as valuable as... oranges! But no complaints. Another highlight of the week is that I think I've actually conquered the Pluperfect Tense in French Grammar. *Chandler Dance*
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Puppy Love!
This morning I decided to head to Sainte-Chapelle - one of the few 'big' things of Paris I still haven't seen. Surprisingly there wasn't much of a queue, and being an EU-resident under 26, I got in for free (as with most monuments and sites of Paris). It is a 'gem' of High Gothic architecture, and holds many Holy Relics, including the crown of thorns, making Paris, in the eyes of medieval Europe, a 'New Jerusalem'. I've been told many times about the Chapelle and it's incredible stained-glass windows, but it's definitely something you have to see for yourself. The Chapelle, sponsored by King Louis IX of France, and built between 1242 and 1248 is 33 metres long, with huge stained-glass windows depicting the 1,113 scenes of the story of mankind from Genesis to Christ's Resurrection.
La Sainte-Chapelle, Metro: Cité (or walk from Notre Dame/Chatelet)
Then, walking along the Seine (right bank) I went into SEVEN pet shops. All the pet shops in Paris are along the same street - it's quite bizarre! Parisian pet shops aren't the nicest of places, with cats and dogs cooped up in small glass cages, but I was looking for a coat or jumper for my darling little dachshund! (She gets cold!) I was so close to buying a 10€ gerbil (it may have been a hamster...) but then figured it might not be the best of ideas as I've never had one before so could probably end up with the RSPCA after me! I think I'd just feed it toilet paper the whole time... I also discovered the most adorable doberman puppy - the cutest dog I've ever seen in my life! (Sorry Mitzy - some severe competition!). Unfortunately it was 1500€ which is slightly out of my price range, but he was so cute, and was chasing his tail round the glass box, before sitting very beautifully and staring at me with huge brown eyes. LOVE LOVE LOVE! (Although not the glass box bit...) He was very similar to my own puppy, but about 20 times bigger in size and these really gorgeous, gangly legs! I'm getting one when I'm older. Do you think they'd allow pets at university? Even a rural university? I was joking to a friend that as Hogwarts allow cats, toads and owls, and I'm sure Bangor would probably allow sheep, wild ponies and collie dogs as suitable pets. Perhaps I could squeeze a doberman in?
Back home I got caught up in the Sunday homework-rush, and ended up colouring in Marie's homework for her! It wasn't too bad, but I just can't understand why teachers tell students to colour in the pictures, when it's a badly photocopied sheet! I mean, I did a pretty amazing job at it, but just seems so silly that the teacher couldn't get a better quality picture! (They all do it.)
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Surviving the Sacre Coeur
Despite being at the highest point of Paris at Sacre Coeur - closest to the gods, the word 'sanctuary' won't save you from The String Men. They're leeches in disguise, ready and waiting in battalions for naive tourists, so they can lasso their fingers with string whilst murmuring 'hakuna matata'. How I'm supposed to take them seriously when they're chanting words from a Disney film I have no idea, but suddenly you have a braid around your wrist and they're waving nail clippers at you and demanding money and your hand in marriage.
You want a braided bracelet. They are pretty, a must-have on visiting the Sacre-Coeur, and totally beat a manky festival wristband, but you're not so enthusiastic about the drippy Senegalese that now seems to be attached to you. Take careful note, because after three bracelet-attacks (yes, THREE), I now feel confident in battling these swindlers.
1. Do not be eager and approach them. Oh, don't worry - you definitely will get a bracelet. They've already seen you approaching about a mile away and are currently planning their... plan of attack.
2. Before you know it, they've got your little finger hooked! Now it's question time whilst theyspin their webs I mean, braid a bracelet. Ignore all flattery - there were millions of 'you very beautiful girl' before you, and will be more to follow. They ask where you're from - you say England. People who haven't been to England know of only one place. Therefore, you come from LONDON. Don't waste your breath trying to explain where Stratford-upon-Avon is. It just doesn't work.
3. The biggy. After all the flattery, compliments, questions on how long your staying and where you're from, is the question they are certainly going ask: 'boyfriend?'. To be honest, they don't really care whether you have one of not, but you DO have a boyfriend, and he IS in Paris right this minute and he's already waiting for you at the top. It's worth even dropping a name in just to make it seem real.
4. The bracelets done, and after the customary 'I'll trim your nails for you with this nail trimmer' joke (true HORROR), and attempted chat-up, you feel compelled to give them money. And that's how they make it, because you've already got a thread bracelet tightly strapped round your wrist, and they are holding some sharp nail-trimming tool in their hands. If you came prepared to get a bracelet, then come armed and dangerous with an extra purse containing no more than 2€. Never give notes, or show you have more change. Seriously, THEY WILL PERSUADE YOU TO EMPTY YOUR WALLETS. So, you tip out your change and they'll see you have nothing more. Simples!
5. You finally pull yourself away from their grips (they will ask for hugs/kisses/hand shakes/a guided tour up to the church...) and RUN FOR IT up the stairs. There'll be another one waiting for you round the corner to do exactly the same. They could put Sir Alan Sugar out of money by the time he reached the top if he was caught by them all. Keep your hands in your pocket so there's nothing they can lasso, and don't look back! (And certainly don't kiss them! Today I had one pucker his lips up so big at me, they put Angelina Jolie's smackers to shame!)
They're friendly, but sneaky buggers on a good day. Just remain firm, and keep walking. Once you reach the top, the views are amazing - seeing the entire of Paris, and remember to come down the other side or the guys you originally met will be coming home with you!
On another note, I also FINALLY discovered the Primark of Paris. Like the name, 'Tati' is rather tatty (and the security guards look frosty enough to sink the Titanic), but it's the cheapest of all the department stores, and bustling with bargain hunters stocking up on low-cost clothes, household items and gifts. The toiletry and make-up section seemed pretty amazing, and had more than the local supermarkets had!
You want a braided bracelet. They are pretty, a must-have on visiting the Sacre-Coeur, and totally beat a manky festival wristband, but you're not so enthusiastic about the drippy Senegalese that now seems to be attached to you. Take careful note, because after three bracelet-attacks (yes, THREE), I now feel confident in battling these swindlers.
1. Do not be eager and approach them. Oh, don't worry - you definitely will get a bracelet. They've already seen you approaching about a mile away and are currently planning their... plan of attack.
2. Before you know it, they've got your little finger hooked! Now it's question time whilst they
3. The biggy. After all the flattery, compliments, questions on how long your staying and where you're from, is the question they are certainly going ask: 'boyfriend?'. To be honest, they don't really care whether you have one of not, but you DO have a boyfriend, and he IS in Paris right this minute and he's already waiting for you at the top. It's worth even dropping a name in just to make it seem real.
4. The bracelets done, and after the customary 'I'll trim your nails for you with this nail trimmer' joke (true HORROR), and attempted chat-up, you feel compelled to give them money. And that's how they make it, because you've already got a thread bracelet tightly strapped round your wrist, and they are holding some sharp nail-trimming tool in their hands. If you came prepared to get a bracelet, then come armed and dangerous with an extra purse containing no more than 2€. Never give notes, or show you have more change. Seriously, THEY WILL PERSUADE YOU TO EMPTY YOUR WALLETS. So, you tip out your change and they'll see you have nothing more. Simples!
5. You finally pull yourself away from their grips (they will ask for hugs/kisses/hand shakes/a guided tour up to the church...) and RUN FOR IT up the stairs. There'll be another one waiting for you round the corner to do exactly the same. They could put Sir Alan Sugar out of money by the time he reached the top if he was caught by them all. Keep your hands in your pocket so there's nothing they can lasso, and don't look back! (And certainly don't kiss them! Today I had one pucker his lips up so big at me, they put Angelina Jolie's smackers to shame!)
They're friendly, but sneaky buggers on a good day. Just remain firm, and keep walking. Once you reach the top, the views are amazing - seeing the entire of Paris, and remember to come down the other side or the guys you originally met will be coming home with you!
Sacre-Coeur 75018, Mero: Anvers or Abbesses
On another note, I also FINALLY discovered the Primark of Paris. Like the name, 'Tati' is rather tatty (and the security guards look frosty enough to sink the Titanic), but it's the cheapest of all the department stores, and bustling with bargain hunters stocking up on low-cost clothes, household items and gifts. The toiletry and make-up section seemed pretty amazing, and had more than the local supermarkets had!
Tati: Blvd Rochechouart, 75018. Metro: Barbes-Rochechouart
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Shark Infested Waters
Today's adventure in two words. Garra Rufa. What's that you say? 'Salmon skin roll'? Not quite. Garra Rufa (plural) are small 'nibbling fish' from Turkey and the Eastern side of things, and and feed off dead areas of skin. In recent years (with the first fish spa arriving in England only last year) Fish Spas have become increasingly popular, so I thought I'd give it a go! (I know - touching fish = gross.) I discovered it from my friend ALESS (there's your mention!) who does it frequently! I found THE spa (seemingly the only one) in Paris close to Jardin de Luxembourg which is on the left bank of Paris (under the Seine). I had a 20 minute session, and myohmy, it was pretty amazing! I thought I'd need a pack of piranha's to sort my feet out (which are a mess from a botched minor foot op), but it was so relaxing, only ticklish when the larger fish started manically sucking blood out gently nibbling at my toes, and it kind of feels like a little kitten licking your fingers, but not slobbery at all. It was really awesome, and you leave still with the tickling sensation round your legs and feet (I was paranoid it'd walked out with a fish still attached to my leg...)
3, rue des Fossés Saint Jacques, 75005, RER Luxembourg
Don't worry though - all my toes are intact, and my feet feel beautifully smooth! I could get quite used to this! (Although it is WAY cheaper in England.)
New bright idea - making the bed and THEN ironing it. Mostly a common habit of males, when they dare to pick up an iron, but I decided that the sheets were far too crumpled to ignore after their tumble dry, so ironed my bed. And I must say, it's a pretty ingenious idea! It was definitely a photo-moment, but excuse the weird pose as have you ever tried to iron a bed whilst taking a photo? No. Thought not.
And I've decided to break it to you all now, but I am DELIGHTED to announce that I have one of my best friends coming out to Paris in February. Commencing countdown: 2 weeks, 1 day. She is my motivation for staying sane, keeping calm and NOT doing something I may regret to the cleaner (or not..), and keeping up enthusiasm for surviving the weeks.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
La Vie Parisienne
Oh my goodness. WOW. So much to tell!
Yesterday I forced myself out the house to endure another Malesherbes Music concert. The spanish accoustic guitar was surprisingly lovely - i was beginning to think that the guitar was just an awful instrument with the exception to Lindsay Lohan's band in Freaky Friday! But this guitar has now fuelled a desire to watch The Mask of Zorro again! :) However, serenity was ruined when an old man came to play the viola, and at first I thought he must have been a beginner! But as he progressed it turned out he wasn't an old man refuelling his desire to learn the viola, but to describe the performance in a word? MYOSHI. It wasn't Myoshi (Chostakovitch and Jongen for those particularly interested), but it was verging onto that. I.e. utter calamity and note bashing.
Came home, argued with the cleaner... Turns out what really ruffles her feathers is when I walk out the door whilst she's talking. It was a classic Eastender's scene, me slamming the front door whilst she's squawking French at me, and then yanking the kitchen windows open to fire more French babble at me whilst I walk out and slam the gate (they are HEAVY doors!).
After getting the girls from school, we all went out again for the evening to meet Caroline in Paris. YES - PARIS. I drove (this time, knowingly) through Paris. i am so proud! I've been told that if you can drive round the 10-lane car-mash-up that is named l'Arc de Triomphe, you can drive anywhere. And I made it. Driving up the Champs Elysees is like going up the big hill on a roller coaster - unsure of what you'll get once you get to the highest point! The lights were so pretty, we drove round Notre Dame, past the Louvre (I had no idea how MASSIVE it is until yesterday evening), right through the centre of Paris. It was INCROYABLE. Definitely there in my list of top ten memories of Paris! For those who have a rough idea of Paris, we were heading up to the 17ieme, which is the top left-hand corner of Paris (we live just outside the periphique on the bottom right-hand side). Caroline very kindly (and surprisingly) took us all out with some of her friends to go to the Theatre! It was my first french Theatre experience, but so amazing and brought back all the memories of going to the theatre as a child, as the room was really grandiose, with galleries, boxes, gold lights, big curtains on the stage... We went to see 'La Vie Parisienne' written by Jacques Offenbach. I didn't understand much of it, and couldn't work out a story line (everyone seemed to be in love with everyone else, so there was no clear relationship/romance going on), but it was fun nonetheless!
14, Bld de Strasbourg 75010, Metro: Strasbourg Saint Denis / Château d'eau
In other news, I received ANOTHER unconditional offer from a university - this time Brighton university! I'm so happy! And in not-so-great news, I have used up my pink Domestos. :( I have another bottle of Domestos to get me through until February, but the bottle is not a hot-pink colour. I guess the very special things in life are rare! :P
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Along the Seine
Paris in a day!
This morning I decided to visit all the landmarks along the River Seine. After a Starbucks and a catch-up with Catie in Chatelet, I started my mission for the day.
Starting with Notre Dame on L'Ile St Louis (walking East from Chatelet), and then heading back over and across Pont Neuf to the Louvre and the all-amazing glass pyramid! :)
Through this mini arch, you can see all the way up to La Defense! (although not in the photo)
At the Musee D'Orsay, which had some random (but Uhh-mazing) Chanel scaffolding type 3D advertisement board. Mmmmmm Chanel <3
Place de la Concorde - in the middle of the Louvre and L'arc de Triomphe. You get a load of (fake) mutant people madly waving pens at you and telepathically asking you to sign away your inheritance in what is more politely termed as 'donation'. DON'T BE FOOLED! (They miraculously 'heal' long enough to go and bitch about you after you ignore them.)
The Grand Palais - definitely a landmark since Karl Lagerfeld hosted Paris Fashion Week's CHANEL show inside.
The Eiffel Tower, of course!
And ending with L'Arc de Triomphe (because I can get straight on the train and feel all my muscles twitching from all the crazy walking!)
In other news, I have a wedding ring! :O Ok, so it's only a wedding ring when some creep is trying to shove his 'trouser snake' at me on the metro (don't ask!) or some lunatic wants my number. I feel pretty excited! I WORE IT ALL DAY.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
A Bomb shell
Just when I thought... it wasn't going to get much worse.
It did.
BIG TIME.
Ok, so no deaths, breakages, accidents or suicide attempts, but still a huge-ass bomb. Take a seat, keep hydrated and breathe. Slowly.
You've finally got used to the crazy parents - yes, it has taken 4 months to date. You've just about worked out how to 'manage' them, including juggling their consecutive-week schedule. And then just when this morning was good, fairly stress-free and things went to plan, the most organised and marginally tidier parent - the one who actually remembers to pay me and pays for the other parent - announces he's going on a four-month round-the-world skiing holiday.
OH. MY. GOD.
Oh, and he's leaving tomorrow. Yep. Not next week, not in a few months. TOMORROW. Tomorrow. Demain. Le jour PROCHAIN. Would it have been too difficult to ask for a NORMAL family??
It did.
BIG TIME.
Ok, so no deaths, breakages, accidents or suicide attempts, but still a huge-ass bomb. Take a seat, keep hydrated and breathe. Slowly.
You've finally got used to the crazy parents - yes, it has taken 4 months to date. You've just about worked out how to 'manage' them, including juggling their consecutive-week schedule. And then just when this morning was good, fairly stress-free and things went to plan, the most organised and marginally tidier parent - the one who actually remembers to pay me and pays for the other parent - announces he's going on a four-month round-the-world skiing holiday.
OH. MY. GOD.
Oh, and he's leaving tomorrow. Yep. Not next week, not in a few months. TOMORROW. Tomorrow. Demain. Le jour PROCHAIN. Would it have been too difficult to ask for a NORMAL family??
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A Lunchtime Concert
String music. A cellist resembling Quasimodo. A CELLO! (Sweet love.) Pretty chamber music to start with. Unfortunately, these sweet symphonies didn't last long.
I wasn't warned about the Miyoshi. If you repeatedly bashed a Chinese shi'tzu against a wall by it's ears while yowling lines from the Qu'ran for the first time, or gave a toddler with Aggressive Personality Disorder a hammer and a piano meanwhile strangling someone with a tape measure, we'd have repeated the Miyoshi performance. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Afterwards I check my vitals. No gushing blood from ears, my eyeballs are still in place, no uncontrollable vomitting or spleen explosions. I am surprised that the only effects that this so-called 'music' has created is a migraine and an intense fear of short-haired crazy violinists wearing halter-necks. I had my hands over my mouth - not only in shock - but to stop my inner self screaming out in tortured pain.
WHY? WHY? Why would anyone want to listen to this... this sporadic CATERWAUL, let alone PLAY IT? I think Mozart's bones just broke out into an epileptic fit. If you had to represent several simultaneous Strobe machines in the form of sound, you'd play Miyoshi. I think the fact I didn't run out in the middle of this terrorising performance was due to the fact it temporarily paralysed my legs. I hope Catie wasn't too terrorised either and made it home without collapsing from post-traumatic shock.
I wasn't warned about the Miyoshi. If you repeatedly bashed a Chinese shi'tzu against a wall by it's ears while yowling lines from the Qu'ran for the first time, or gave a toddler with Aggressive Personality Disorder a hammer and a piano meanwhile strangling someone with a tape measure, we'd have repeated the Miyoshi performance. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Afterwards I check my vitals. No gushing blood from ears, my eyeballs are still in place, no uncontrollable vomitting or spleen explosions. I am surprised that the only effects that this so-called 'music' has created is a migraine and an intense fear of short-haired crazy violinists wearing halter-necks. I had my hands over my mouth - not only in shock - but to stop my inner self screaming out in tortured pain.
WHY? WHY? Why would anyone want to listen to this... this sporadic CATERWAUL, let alone PLAY IT? I think Mozart's bones just broke out into an epileptic fit. If you had to represent several simultaneous Strobe machines in the form of sound, you'd play Miyoshi. I think the fact I didn't run out in the middle of this terrorising performance was due to the fact it temporarily paralysed my legs. I hope Catie wasn't too terrorised either and made it home without collapsing from post-traumatic shock.
Salle Cortot, 78, rue Cardinet, 75017, Métro Malesherbes
Frustration
JUST ONE GOOD DAY PLEASE! Is that too much to ask?
Yesterday. I finally arrived at the conclusion that it's not my job to clean, and the cleaner takes way too much advantage of me. I'm the au-pair, NOT the cleaner. Therefore, I'm refusing to clean rooms anymore. That however didn't go down too well with the cleaner when she arrived yesterday afternoon. She get's paid triple what I get, and she probably works a third of my hours. She works 12 hours per week. I work 5 days!!!! And I'm really getting my head down on my studies, and I do not have time to be cleaning which isn't in my job description anyway. The day time is my free time - I'm sick of the cleaner coming in and CALLING ME downstairs to help her. No. Sorry, wrong number. I have an exam. So we had a bit of a blow-up yesterday, and she went a bit mental at me for saying it was a really important exam 'de ma vie'. She seemed to think I should be cleaning all the girls' rooms, the spare room/playroom, and the bathroom upstairs. I don't know where she got THAT from, but I've never cleaned the playroom. And look - CLEAN = CLEANER. Argh. So she's being really mature now and not talking me. OooOoh Scary!
And then the grand finale. Yesterday evening. To be honest, it could have been worse: I could have witnessed it. I arrived down this morning to find shards of glass over every surface and vessel in the kitchen, smattered with chocolate. It does not take Einstein to work out the situation. Another clue was the microwave door left open. (These girls do not shut doors. Ever.) I've mentioned before that these girls are chocoholics. Major chocoholics. They'd put Willy Wonka to shame. I never buy chocolate or Nutella or chocolate powder, because it just GOES. They INHALE it! And they melt it, eat it out of the jar, cook it, lick it, break it up and put it on other food, have it for breakfast, put it on toast, biscuits.... So I'm thinking you're starting to guess what happened. William bought dark chocolate this weekend. Margot decided she wanted a chocolate drink.
'Glass' and 'microwave' should never be used in the same sentence, let alone in the same room. But I would have LOVED to see Margot's face when she pulled the glass of melted chocolate out of the microwave, dipped the spoon in and then suddenly it was blown to smithereens. (It smashed when she took it out of the microwave.) Just so long as I was out of the way, behind bullet proof glass and protected. What a joy to find all this downstairs this morning though. And she'd just left it. I opened the cutlery drawer (how the hell it managed to get in there!) and everything was just covered in glass, and melted-then-hardened chocolate. So that was my morning. The cleaner doesn't know how lucky she is!
Tip: NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER put glass in a microwave. It results in a lot of cleaning up.
Yesterday. I finally arrived at the conclusion that it's not my job to clean, and the cleaner takes way too much advantage of me. I'm the au-pair, NOT the cleaner. Therefore, I'm refusing to clean rooms anymore. That however didn't go down too well with the cleaner when she arrived yesterday afternoon. She get's paid triple what I get, and she probably works a third of my hours. She works 12 hours per week. I work 5 days!!!! And I'm really getting my head down on my studies, and I do not have time to be cleaning which isn't in my job description anyway. The day time is my free time - I'm sick of the cleaner coming in and CALLING ME downstairs to help her. No. Sorry, wrong number. I have an exam. So we had a bit of a blow-up yesterday, and she went a bit mental at me for saying it was a really important exam 'de ma vie'. She seemed to think I should be cleaning all the girls' rooms, the spare room/playroom, and the bathroom upstairs. I don't know where she got THAT from, but I've never cleaned the playroom. And look - CLEAN = CLEANER. Argh. So she's being really mature now and not talking me. OooOoh Scary!
And then the grand finale. Yesterday evening. To be honest, it could have been worse: I could have witnessed it. I arrived down this morning to find shards of glass over every surface and vessel in the kitchen, smattered with chocolate. It does not take Einstein to work out the situation. Another clue was the microwave door left open. (These girls do not shut doors. Ever.) I've mentioned before that these girls are chocoholics. Major chocoholics. They'd put Willy Wonka to shame. I never buy chocolate or Nutella or chocolate powder, because it just GOES. They INHALE it! And they melt it, eat it out of the jar, cook it, lick it, break it up and put it on other food, have it for breakfast, put it on toast, biscuits.... So I'm thinking you're starting to guess what happened. William bought dark chocolate this weekend. Margot decided she wanted a chocolate drink.
'Glass' and 'microwave' should never be used in the same sentence, let alone in the same room. But I would have LOVED to see Margot's face when she pulled the glass of melted chocolate out of the microwave, dipped the spoon in and then suddenly it was blown to smithereens. (It smashed when she took it out of the microwave.) Just so long as I was out of the way, behind bullet proof glass and protected. What a joy to find all this downstairs this morning though. And she'd just left it. I opened the cutlery drawer (how the hell it managed to get in there!) and everything was just covered in glass, and melted-then-hardened chocolate. So that was my morning. The cleaner doesn't know how lucky she is!
Tip: NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER put glass in a microwave. It results in a lot of cleaning up.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Peace is restored.
Well it is a beee-you-tiful day today, and I have finally been paid this morning. Smiles all round.
I can think of nothing better right now, than having this weather (warm, blue skies but not scorching/sweaty/sweltering/blistering heat) and being in England. I hope I get that this April! :)
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Somewhere...other than HERE.
Urgh. So today NEEDED to be good, but an unfortunate choice at the cinema turned it right back round and was NOT what I needed. After a successful walk around Paris, going to all the places where The Tourist was filmed in Paris and a quick trip to WHSmiths, I walked back to the cinema to see 'Somewhere'. It stars Elle Fanning and Stephen Dorff (new hottie in the town!), and is basically about a famous guy having to build a relationship with his daughter. OH MY GOD. It was AWFUL. I didn't think it would/could be so BAD!
Ok. The film opens with a still view of part (key word: PART) of a race track. You hear an engine revving, and suddenly a car races past the screen and disappears round the track (which you can't see, but you can hear the engine). THIS HAPPENS FIVE TIMES. Yes, FIVE. And for the whole time, you're staring at a close-up of the same part of the track. Whoopee. A thriller in the making, surely. Then FINALLY the car stops (thankfully in the screen shot) and Stephen Dorff gets out and...Just. Stands. There. And then the screen goes black and there's a cast list. I actually thought they'd got the film reel mucked up. But nope...
Then you're shown Stephen Dorff's character's life, which is incredibly boring. You have no idea who he is, what he does (and it ISN'T racing cars), even his full name, what he's doing... There's loads of moments throughout the entire film when he just sits there. Thinking. Being depressed. And i have no idea why! Nothing dramatic happens to make him need to sit back and ponder and for the audience to understand why. Then there's two AWFUL scenes I wouldn't take anyone under 16 to see, of two peroxide-blonde pole-dancing twins shoving their thongs up the camera lens. Thank you for that - just what I came to see. And those two 'sessions' go on each for a whole song's worth. Still feeling positive though, I kept telling myself 'It'll get better and funny when the girl shows up [his daughter]'. She shows up. No improvement. The film is so UTTERLY and badly filmed also - the camera shots are all WRONG, and half the film is spent zoomed in on one person. Seriously, I am NOT exaggerating. Plenty of times Stephen Dorff is sat, with a close up on his head, and he's picking things up, looking at what he's sat/perched on, putting things in his mouth and moving things around, WHICH I CAN'T SEE. I have no idea if it's gum he's putting in his mouth of pills. All we an see is his shoulders upwards. his head is near the bottom of the camera frame. The fact that he keeps randomly (and unexplainably) falling asleep, I'd assume it was pills (for what???). It's so frustrating! Towards the beginning of the film he breaks his wrist, but it's difficult to tell as he fell out of the camera shot, and when the car breaks down, all we get to see it the back of the car... whilst they glance down at the side of it (I guess they got a puncture, but who knows? Perhaps they'd hit one of Santa's reindeer on the way to Alaska, or discovered only now that half the car was painted pink...).
The mother (who we never see anyway) suddenly disappears halfway through, and no one has no idea why but all the characters seem to think that's a normal thing, and then the second half (I'm not even sure which bit I'd class as 'the middle bit') is spent with the father and daughter driving around and getting room service. THAT IS IT. Then she has to go to camp (?), and randomly the Dad is crying alone in his hotel room (?) saying he's 'nobody, not even a person' (?) and then he calls up reception to say he's moving and to pack his items in boxes (?), and then he's driving down a long road (so SO slowly despite the sound effects being of a fast car) and then suddenly he pulls over (?), leaves the keys in his black Ferrari and the key alerter alarm beeping, and slowly continues walking... AND THEN IT ENDS. I was appalled. The ending was more shocking than any other part because I WAS STILL EXPECTING THE STORY!!! I felt like jumping up and yelling to the small audience 'who the hell LIKED this film????' Half of it seemed to be set in Italy, and for some reason there were no subtitles AT ALL for the Italian, and the accents seemed ridiculously fake anyway. The whole film just seemed to be built up of ridiculous, IRRELEVANT, random scenes... such as watching them drive the way to camp... or rather, watching from the camera van the back of the Ferrari driving to camp, or walking into an airport, walking walking walking, then exiting the airport and into a taxi! (perhaps they'd been magically transported by Floo Powder to Italy on their walk through the airport). Scenes of him smoking and picking up a pear (not a gun, A PEAR), or having a mould made of his face. When the characters adding the plasticine to his face said 'it'll take 40 minutes to set' and you're left watching him just sitting there looking like a tortured Mummy which his breathing as the only sound, i thought that I too would have to sit and watch him sit for 40 minutes! And I'm not being thick - I'm all for 'arty' films, but NONE of these 'random' scenes had ANYTHING to do with the film. Not even metaphorically.
Oh. I've just discovered that the director of this also directed Lost In Translation. That was another wildly dull and nothing-happening film. This film was so impersonal, that you couldn't relate to any of the characters when they were down or upset, and it's not as if you'd actually care for the reason anyway! HOW did this get to cinemas??? Maybe tonight I'll watch a film that will never let me down... either Devil wears Prada or Twilight! :)
Ok. The film opens with a still view of part (key word: PART) of a race track. You hear an engine revving, and suddenly a car races past the screen and disappears round the track (which you can't see, but you can hear the engine). THIS HAPPENS FIVE TIMES. Yes, FIVE. And for the whole time, you're staring at a close-up of the same part of the track. Whoopee. A thriller in the making, surely. Then FINALLY the car stops (thankfully in the screen shot) and Stephen Dorff gets out and...Just. Stands. There. And then the screen goes black and there's a cast list. I actually thought they'd got the film reel mucked up. But nope...
Then you're shown Stephen Dorff's character's life, which is incredibly boring. You have no idea who he is, what he does (and it ISN'T racing cars), even his full name, what he's doing... There's loads of moments throughout the entire film when he just sits there. Thinking. Being depressed. And i have no idea why! Nothing dramatic happens to make him need to sit back and ponder and for the audience to understand why. Then there's two AWFUL scenes I wouldn't take anyone under 16 to see, of two peroxide-blonde pole-dancing twins shoving their thongs up the camera lens. Thank you for that - just what I came to see. And those two 'sessions' go on each for a whole song's worth. Still feeling positive though, I kept telling myself 'It'll get better and funny when the girl shows up [his daughter]'. She shows up. No improvement. The film is so UTTERLY and badly filmed also - the camera shots are all WRONG, and half the film is spent zoomed in on one person. Seriously, I am NOT exaggerating. Plenty of times Stephen Dorff is sat, with a close up on his head, and he's picking things up, looking at what he's sat/perched on, putting things in his mouth and moving things around, WHICH I CAN'T SEE. I have no idea if it's gum he's putting in his mouth of pills. All we an see is his shoulders upwards. his head is near the bottom of the camera frame. The fact that he keeps randomly (and unexplainably) falling asleep, I'd assume it was pills (for what???). It's so frustrating! Towards the beginning of the film he breaks his wrist, but it's difficult to tell as he fell out of the camera shot, and when the car breaks down, all we get to see it the back of the car... whilst they glance down at the side of it (I guess they got a puncture, but who knows? Perhaps they'd hit one of Santa's reindeer on the way to Alaska, or discovered only now that half the car was painted pink...).
The mother (who we never see anyway) suddenly disappears halfway through, and no one has no idea why but all the characters seem to think that's a normal thing, and then the second half (I'm not even sure which bit I'd class as 'the middle bit') is spent with the father and daughter driving around and getting room service. THAT IS IT. Then she has to go to camp (?), and randomly the Dad is crying alone in his hotel room (?) saying he's 'nobody, not even a person' (?) and then he calls up reception to say he's moving and to pack his items in boxes (?), and then he's driving down a long road (so SO slowly despite the sound effects being of a fast car) and then suddenly he pulls over (?), leaves the keys in his black Ferrari and the key alerter alarm beeping, and slowly continues walking... AND THEN IT ENDS. I was appalled. The ending was more shocking than any other part because I WAS STILL EXPECTING THE STORY!!! I felt like jumping up and yelling to the small audience 'who the hell LIKED this film????' Half of it seemed to be set in Italy, and for some reason there were no subtitles AT ALL for the Italian, and the accents seemed ridiculously fake anyway. The whole film just seemed to be built up of ridiculous, IRRELEVANT, random scenes... such as watching them drive the way to camp... or rather, watching from the camera van the back of the Ferrari driving to camp, or walking into an airport, walking walking walking, then exiting the airport and into a taxi! (perhaps they'd been magically transported by Floo Powder to Italy on their walk through the airport). Scenes of him smoking and picking up a pear (not a gun, A PEAR), or having a mould made of his face. When the characters adding the plasticine to his face said 'it'll take 40 minutes to set' and you're left watching him just sitting there looking like a tortured Mummy which his breathing as the only sound, i thought that I too would have to sit and watch him sit for 40 minutes! And I'm not being thick - I'm all for 'arty' films, but NONE of these 'random' scenes had ANYTHING to do with the film. Not even metaphorically.
Oh. I've just discovered that the director of this also directed Lost In Translation. That was another wildly dull and nothing-happening film. This film was so impersonal, that you couldn't relate to any of the characters when they were down or upset, and it's not as if you'd actually care for the reason anyway! HOW did this get to cinemas??? Maybe tonight I'll watch a film that will never let me down... either Devil wears Prada or Twilight! :)
Following the footsteps of... Angelina Jolie!
My FAVOURITE actress is THE Angelina Jolie. Omg. So amazing. So, after seeing The Tourist three times, I decided this morning to visit the places in Paris used in the film! :) There's only a brief amount spent in Paris, but I went to the main scene spots. If you've seen the film, you should recognise these.
1. Where the van stalking Jolie waits (big yellow X) diagonal to:
2. Quatre Septembre Metro entrance - where Jolie stands waiting for the passenger rush (such a clever/true scene)
3 & 4. Entrance to metro where Jolie walks down the side (I'VE WALKED IN HER FOOTSTEPS!!)
5. The weird coloured sculpture thing opposite the cafe where she sits. This sculpture is like oversized glass beads, and is a roof over a Metro entrance.
6 & 7. Place de Colette - where Jolie's character sits and orders her usual 'tea with milk and croissant'. the yellow chairs, the pillars... SO REAL. :) see screenshot below:
Also, on a non-Jolie note, I saw these near Place de Colette on my Jolie-stalking adventure. At first I thought 'what horrendous Christmas decorations', but on closer inspection, it's a campaign for recycling! These are Christmas trees made out of plastic Sprite bottles. Ha!
I'm 'only' the AU-PAIR...
Yesterday COULD have been good. It COULD have turned out alright. I spent the whole morning talking to FOUR different automated telephone machines which is as depressing and dull as it sounds... (chasing customer care for undelivered christmas presents, calling up HSBC because they thought it'd be funny to lock me out of my online account etc). I even managed to fine some big plain envelopes in the house to use, so if my parcel doesn't arrive, I can't blame the fact I'd made a bad envelope! I even sat down and did some French revision/work, and am slowly conquering the world of The Future Tense, and in the afternoon made my best ever snack-box for the girls after school, before Tennis. Neat sandwiches with the crusts cut off, I even peeled an orange and wrapped it in foil for Marie so she wouldn't get sticky fingers or leave peel all over the car floor, gave them all clean, fresh bottles of water for tennis and got to school early for Marie... and then it went downhill.
I waited for 40 minutes in the playground for Marie - to the point where the playground was desert and the teacher was locking the gates. I then spent another 10 minutes walking round school with teachers trying to find Marie, and no one knew where she was! I finally texted Carolne to say she hadn't turned up, and O.M.G. I don't know why i am so surprised, but she texted back saying Marie was at a birthday party and she'd forgotten to tell me. Oh. Jeeze. well, cheers. I only spent like, hmm, an hour of my time running round looking for her, making a packed lunch for tennis and arriving early to pick her up. No problem WHATSOEVER. It's not as if you have to TELL the person minding your kids that they aren't where they normally are. You know, we au-pairs come with special telepathy features. Pffft.
So after a night of ranting and venting, I have now been able to write a post that isn't all the insults and abuse i could hurl at Caroline and how unorganised and CRAZY this family life and behaviour is. Keeping CALM (and no guns involved).
On a side note, the weather weekend is far too miserable to do MY PLAN. (Plan = Scuppered.) I came up with it last year in November time, but it was too dark to do it. It will happen. :)
I waited for 40 minutes in the playground for Marie - to the point where the playground was desert and the teacher was locking the gates. I then spent another 10 minutes walking round school with teachers trying to find Marie, and no one knew where she was! I finally texted Carolne to say she hadn't turned up, and O.M.G. I don't know why i am so surprised, but she texted back saying Marie was at a birthday party and she'd forgotten to tell me. Oh. Jeeze. well, cheers. I only spent like, hmm, an hour of my time running round looking for her, making a packed lunch for tennis and arriving early to pick her up. No problem WHATSOEVER. It's not as if you have to TELL the person minding your kids that they aren't where they normally are. You know, we au-pairs come with special telepathy features. Pffft.
So after a night of ranting and venting, I have now been able to write a post that isn't all the insults and abuse i could hurl at Caroline and how unorganised and CRAZY this family life and behaviour is. Keeping CALM (and no guns involved).
On a side note, the weather weekend is far too miserable to do MY PLAN. (Plan = Scuppered.) I came up with it last year in November time, but it was too dark to do it. It will happen. :)
Thursday, January 6, 2011
KEEP CALM AND BLOG!
So this week hasn't been the best week ever (and no, not because the dog is still alive or Katy Perry didn't swing down the Eiffel Tower by rope and Karl Lagerfeld didn't ask me to be the face of Chanel's next handbag range)... It's just been tough. au-pairing IS tough. But it always sounds so easy.
Caroline has been absolutely CRAZY this week, and driving me insane. KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON. (Not 'Freak Out and Throw Stuff'.) She's just avoiding me when I need money for shopping, or money she said she's reimburse me with, or my WAGES. I won't bore you. You probably already know if you're one of the people I called to vent to. Then I've had the cleaner at me for not tidying Thelma's wardrobe (yes, wardrobe) - NOT MY JOB! - and someone cooking pasta in the dead of night and leaving everything out for me to clear away early morning. The car has no petrol either, so tomorrow will be a bunch of laughs.
On the plus side, I went to see The Tourist again with Catie today. I love it more and more! also I may have to break my streak and start obsessing over another film... Anyway, it was great to see Catie over a Starbucks and we both agreed it was tough to come back to France this time round and that au-pairing WAS a tough job, however easy it sounds. i'll hit anybody who says it's an easy-as job with my mini metal Eiffel Tower sculpture, and then make them take over from me in May. But then I'd live in fear of them coming back to beat me over the head with the Sculpture/souvenir metal monument for pushing them into doing this. Ok so no hitting.
Caroline has been absolutely CRAZY this week, and driving me insane. KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON. (Not 'Freak Out and Throw Stuff'.) She's just avoiding me when I need money for shopping, or money she said she's reimburse me with, or my WAGES. I won't bore you. You probably already know if you're one of the people I called to vent to. Then I've had the cleaner at me for not tidying Thelma's wardrobe (yes, wardrobe) - NOT MY JOB! - and someone cooking pasta in the dead of night and leaving everything out for me to clear away early morning. The car has no petrol either, so tomorrow will be a bunch of laughs.
On the plus side, I went to see The Tourist again with Catie today. I love it more and more! also I may have to break my streak and start obsessing over another film... Anyway, it was great to see Catie over a Starbucks and we both agreed it was tough to come back to France this time round and that au-pairing WAS a tough job, however easy it sounds. i'll hit anybody who says it's an easy-as job with my mini metal Eiffel Tower sculpture, and then make them take over from me in May. But then I'd live in fear of them coming back to beat me over the head with the Sculpture/souvenir metal monument for pushing them into doing this. Ok so no hitting.
This weekend, I'm planning something pretty amazing and spectacular. It's a day thing, and all outside, so will be weather permitting. It's a surprise for all my wonderful readers out there, so I'm not going to tell. Just pray for good weather on Saturday. Or Sunday. hopefully, the result will be a long post of my day, with plenty of photos, hilarity and new ideas for you lot. Tomorrow I'll be needing to charge my camera battery... WATCH THIS SPACE! :P
Weather: 10°C - after seeing England at -10°C, I was expecting a heatwave, but it's rained. All day.
Music: Lemon Tree by Fool's Garden
Mood: Tired. Please pack me in a box and send me back to England.
Also, i went to buy an envelope today, and it turns out you can't buy envelopes at the Post Office. Seriously. What am I supposed to do... Make one?
Weather: 10°C - after seeing England at -10°C, I was expecting a heatwave, but it's rained. All day.
Music: Lemon Tree by Fool's Garden
Mood: Tired. Please pack me in a box and send me back to England.
Also, i went to buy an envelope today, and it turns out you can't buy envelopes at the Post Office. Seriously. What am I supposed to do... Make one?
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Just another Tourist
Today I went to see The Tourist at the cinema (Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp). I just LOVE French cinemas. So peaceful and quiet. And this isn't just any ordinary film. This is a TRILINGUAL film. Good job I'd already seen it in England then, so I knew what was going on. So here's my language practise of the day:
French speaking, no subtitles: French listening practise
English speaking, French subtitles: French reading
Italian speaking, French subtitles: Forced French reading and understanding to work out the Italian.
Who says we need school?!
Today's been pretty boring though... no killer snowstorm, no horrendous train wrecks or a tsunami whooshing through the metro tunnels blasting us out into the Atlantic Ocean, no crazed Parisian with garlic round his neck menacingly cackling: 'I will rule the world!' and tossing his beret in the air... Nada.
I spoke to my family via Face Time on my Macbook - a video chat application connecting MacBooks and iPhone 4's in a circle of friendship and never-ending happiness. :) My mother said it was like something you'd see on StarTrek back in the 70s. Bless. [Insert Spock-catch phrase with imitation.] It was nice looking into home life through my teeny webcam... I wanted to crawl through it and be magically transported into the warm kitchen with them.
Soo... Catie's back in France, my room is slowly beginning to resemble 'tidyness', and I'm still only on my first bottle of Domestos. That's pretty good going, seeing as I've been known to get through a whole 750ml bottle in under 2 days. So GO ME!
French speaking, no subtitles: French listening practise
English speaking, French subtitles: French reading
Italian speaking, French subtitles: Forced French reading and understanding to work out the Italian.
Who says we need school?!
Today's been pretty boring though... no killer snowstorm, no horrendous train wrecks or a tsunami whooshing through the metro tunnels blasting us out into the Atlantic Ocean, no crazed Parisian with garlic round his neck menacingly cackling: 'I will rule the world!' and tossing his beret in the air... Nada.
I spoke to my family via Face Time on my Macbook - a video chat application connecting MacBooks and iPhone 4's in a circle of friendship and never-ending happiness. :) My mother said it was like something you'd see on StarTrek back in the 70s. Bless. [Insert Spock-catch phrase with imitation.] It was nice looking into home life through my teeny webcam... I wanted to crawl through it and be magically transported into the warm kitchen with them.
Soo... Catie's back in France, my room is slowly beginning to resemble 'tidyness', and I'm still only on my first bottle of Domestos. That's pretty good going, seeing as I've been known to get through a whole 750ml bottle in under 2 days. So GO ME!
Monday, January 3, 2011
Back to Routine... and catching up on sleep!
Back in the Scenic again. That car has more lives than a Buddhist cat! It's like driving a BUS! I'd hoped that when the steering went last year, that no one would be bothered to actually fix it, but NO.
Today's gone pretty smoothly - surprisingly! A nice start to the week although there is no food in the cupboards to cook with, and both parents seem to have disappeared. Well, it's plain pasta and frozen peas for the girls for tea tonight then! My room is slowly reverting back to 'normal' i.e. clean and tidy! There is less crap on my bed and now have a nice big table in my room - what used to be taken up with a broken laptop and a bulky computer screen, but now that i have my gorgeous Mac which is PORTABLE, I have extra 'pile' space. :)
I didn't venture out today - I was still so tired! France may only be an hour forward, but myohmy i have so much sleep to catch up on. This morning was one huge blur, and after dropping the girls off on a stress-free school run, I returned home and crawled back underneath the covers.
Today's gone pretty smoothly - surprisingly! A nice start to the week although there is no food in the cupboards to cook with, and both parents seem to have disappeared. Well, it's plain pasta and frozen peas for the girls for tea tonight then! My room is slowly reverting back to 'normal' i.e. clean and tidy! There is less crap on my bed and now have a nice big table in my room - what used to be taken up with a broken laptop and a bulky computer screen, but now that i have my gorgeous Mac which is PORTABLE, I have extra 'pile' space. :)
I didn't venture out today - I was still so tired! France may only be an hour forward, but myohmy i have so much sleep to catch up on. This morning was one huge blur, and after dropping the girls off on a stress-free school run, I returned home and crawled back underneath the covers.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
And she's back!
Macbook in one piece, luggage up three flights of stairs and the wifi code. Finally made it back to Paris. It does suck having to get up and run round like a moron on New Year's Day, but alongside the whole 'waking up in England, sleeping in Paris' excitement, I also get today to chill, relax, sleep and unpack before the rush of Paris life and hassles of au-pairing hit me with a full blow tomorrow. I CAN'T WAIT.
My holidays were AMAZING. I had the best Christmas and New Year's ever. :D I have returned with one of my suitcases loaded with Domestos, Anti-Bacterial spray, Disinfectant and room freshener. Hit me with your best shot! I've also arrived with rations of Cadbury's Highlights Chocolate, an aisle of Boots (in the form of Rimmel concealer sticks and face powder) and a brand new laptop - my old one finally gave in. So slowly getting used to the whole 'Macbook' way of life, despite the caps-lock key doing the opposite of what I want it to do! So forgive me for any punctuation errors!
I've been trying to find one photo to represent my whole holiday, but I've done so many different things and seen so many people, I just can't seem to find ONE. So click at the bottom link for photos of my very Happy Christmas and an Amazing start to the New Year! :)
In other news... I returned to Paris to a very clean and empty house! A very lovely surprise. I was correct in assuming they hadn't yet arrived back from Switzerland, as I woke up VERY late this morning to discover a radical change to MESS. The good thing is that they only have TODAY to make a mess before school tomorrow. I was expecting more like a week's worth of mess on arrival. Also to my delight in the Christmas holidays, I discovered I'd been 'papped' from Paris Fashion Week those many months ago in October, with my photos on a fashion blog! I feel very chuffed about this achievement, and already planning outfits for the Paris Fashion Week in Spring. :D
I think my resolutions for my time in Paris are to :
1. Stay sane, keep calm
2. Speak French fluently.
3. Attempt to save money. (until the next spontaneous designer splurge...)
Music: Magic - B.o.B (My New Year song!)
Weather: Bluey skies - brighter than England :D
Mood: About to destress with a Twilight film (Eclipse)
Anyway, PHOTOS PHOTOS PHOTOS! :)
My holidays were AMAZING. I had the best Christmas and New Year's ever. :D I have returned with one of my suitcases loaded with Domestos, Anti-Bacterial spray, Disinfectant and room freshener. Hit me with your best shot! I've also arrived with rations of Cadbury's Highlights Chocolate, an aisle of Boots (in the form of Rimmel concealer sticks and face powder) and a brand new laptop - my old one finally gave in. So slowly getting used to the whole 'Macbook' way of life, despite the caps-lock key doing the opposite of what I want it to do! So forgive me for any punctuation errors!
I've been trying to find one photo to represent my whole holiday, but I've done so many different things and seen so many people, I just can't seem to find ONE. So click at the bottom link for photos of my very Happy Christmas and an Amazing start to the New Year! :)
In other news... I returned to Paris to a very clean and empty house! A very lovely surprise. I was correct in assuming they hadn't yet arrived back from Switzerland, as I woke up VERY late this morning to discover a radical change to MESS. The good thing is that they only have TODAY to make a mess before school tomorrow. I was expecting more like a week's worth of mess on arrival. Also to my delight in the Christmas holidays, I discovered I'd been 'papped' from Paris Fashion Week those many months ago in October, with my photos on a fashion blog! I feel very chuffed about this achievement, and already planning outfits for the Paris Fashion Week in Spring. :D
I think my resolutions for my time in Paris are to :
1. Stay sane, keep calm
2. Speak French fluently.
3. Attempt to save money. (until the next spontaneous designer splurge...)
Music: Magic - B.o.B (My New Year song!)
Weather: Bluey skies - brighter than England :D
Mood: About to destress with a Twilight film (Eclipse)
Anyway, PHOTOS PHOTOS PHOTOS! :)
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