Monday, 17 January 2011

"C'est un restaurant Chinois?" "Non, c'est un temple bouddhiste"

Well, I’ll start this blog post by letting you all know that I have cheered the fuck up! The last two weeks were stressful to the point of wanting to kill everyone, I hated everyone, and yeah I was being a bit of a miserable bitch, lol.

I believe that my last post was onnnn Tuesday? Yea, cos I was feeling sad. Wednesday was horrible, there were good memories, bad memories, feeling sad, and just as I finished my crying spree I got a knock on the door of my apartment.

“Can you have your stuff ready by tomorrow at 5pm?”

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!

So for the rest of Wednesday I didn’t even have time to cry about my Nan because I was too busy throwing my life into suitcases and carrier bags ready to move to my new apartment.

Which is shit, by the way.

Thursday was a slightly ridiculous day. I saw my teacher on Facebook in the morning, she’d even WRITTEN a status about her child being ill. Still, I went in for 2pm when I had a lesson with her, and quelle surprise! She wasn’t there! So I gave myself a glorious hour of staff room nothingness before going to my class with Year Ten.

Which didn’t go so well.

No fucker listened to me, no fucker did their work, I shouted at them (I was feeling stressed on Thursday because of my impending move to the lycée and there was some bad news at home too and I couldn’t really make sure that things were okay with everything I had going on here – I just took it out on the little bastard kids and felt great about myself after) and after that I went home to finalise my “packing”.

I moved to the new flat, where my internet doesn’t work properly, I have very little storage and my bed resembles that which you would find in prison. You know, with the gym mat mattresses and the super-duper comfort thing.  The flat is surrounded by classrooms, so regardless of what time you WANT to wake up, you’re up at 8.25.

It’s a really rubbish flat.

HOWEVER.

My flatmates are really nice.
There’s a supermarket across the road with an “espace fraicheur” which I find awesome beyond comprehension. It’s a massive fridge that you walk in! England needs more of these.
There’s a MacDonald’s a piss away.
THERE IS A WASHING MACHINE
THERE IS A TUMBLE DRYER

And it’s much closer to Corbeil-Essonnes Station, which is much better for me with regards to getting to Paris when I’m doing my “escape” thing at the weekend.

Overall, I think I can put the rubbishness of the place aside purely for the benefits of having people to talk to, a faster escape out of Corbeil-Essonnes, and the ability to wash my clothes.

At the weekend, I went to Dijon, and I must say I had the best weekend I’ve had since I arrived in France. I took the TGV where I was sat next to this man who, frankly, was a little bit weird. He kept playing with the armrest between us, and guess what? He broke my camera. I can still take pictures, but what they look like is anyone’s guess until I get them onto the computer. I wish I’d seen this before getting off the train. I’d have mugged him for his designer clothes. Idiot. 

Katie met me in town after coming round from a drink-induced coma and showed me about the place, we did the “parcours de chouette” and I swear to god if she ever says the word chouette to me again I will cry. Haha. I met some of her friends in the town, all of whom were lovely, we went to the cinema to watch “Le fils a Jo” (which I’d rate at about 5/10) before going back to her flat for dinner and whatnot. Then we went out. Had a great night. Managed to get a pint for €3. There was a definite link between the price and the name of the beer (Grimberg or something), and it was definitely the barman who was making the prices up as he went along, but it was a €3 pint nonetheless. This is itself makes the night a success.

Sunday, I booked some train tickets to London because I’m taking my lady away from shite Dagenham for the weekend. This made me massively excited, then I went home.

By the way, I forgot to tell you all about my Maille purchases. Funky flavoured mustard, and raspberry vinegar. RASPBERRY VINEGAR. It’s the best thing I’ve ever bought. Better than Electroboy, even. I was so proud of myself.

Sunday I washed some clothes and let me tell you, my clothes were grateful. I chilled out for the evening before getting me a semi decent night’s sleep.

Today, being Monday, I have met the teacher from Leeds who is going to be here for two weeks, and it turns out he used to work at Barking Abbey. Small world!

Hes a cool guy though. In between all our official engagements, tour of the town hall, meeting with the conseil general, he was still laughing at the swan that was having difficulty in the river, and the old tramp outside the Conseil General who was necking beer and looked like he’d had his face busted in. I’m glad he brought some humour with him.

Now I’m writing a blog before going to a “soiree” where I apparently have to speak in front of people. I don’t know what I’m going to say. I think the theme of my speech is going to have to be “improvisation”. I swear, if they want me to say it in French. I will die.

4 comments:

  1. Chouette, chouette, chouette!
    Ce weekend etait chouette, tu est chouette, Dijon est chouette, mes amis sont chouette, le film n'etait pas chouette. C'est chouette que je vais etre a Paris dans deux semaines! Chouette!

    And what is a Electroboy coz right now I'm thinking dildo!

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  2. :'( but thanks for calling me an owl!

    Yeah cos I talk about my vast collection of dildos in public don't I ;) No no nooooo Electroboy is my robot hoover. He's pretty awesome :)

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  3. Tu es chouette pas tu es UNE chouette!

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  4. Je suis pas UNE chouette, je suis LA chouette!

    ReplyDelete