The Middle of Freaking Nowhere

Well, I don't know about you, but I think this 'updating frequently' thing is actually going pretty goddamned successfully. If, of course, by "success" you mean "failure". Though 'failurelessly' doesn't work as a word or a concept, so I'm not sure what's going on anymore.

Many things have happened since I last updated, few of them interesting. Two of the carré members have jumped ship, though one of them has since been back for a visit, as though to say she didn't really mean to leave but-oh wait she left again. The other one is coming back at some unforeseen time in the future, and possibly not even to Paris, just to Europe. Still, right continent, that's all I really ask for in a friend. And not even that, if I'm entirely honest. She left me a very cryptic message on my facebook yesterday implying that she had bad news to tell me (and by "implying" I mean she left a message saying "I have bad news to tell you"). I have clarified no-one is dead, but I assume that she is just going to inform me that she doesn't love me enough (or does not have enough money) to come back to Paris before I, too, jump ship.

After I leave France in September Dani will be the only person left of the original carré. She will have to make new friends to form a new shape. I challenge her to find enough to make a dodecahedron because who wouldn't want to be in a dodecahedron? It is testament to its awesomeness as a shape that I still remember how to say it, as it is at least seven years since I did any maths and probably longer since I used the word 'dodecahedron' in a sentence. And there I've gone and used it three times in a paragraph.

I turned 23 in June, and to celebrate we went to Disneyland because fuck growing up. It was excellent. Space Mountain is terrifying (and of course we went on twice because we are Daredevils). For my actual birthday, I made myself some brownies and my boss bought me MacDo for my birthday dinner, because I am an extremely healthy person and a successful human being.

The kids and I took a trip to England to visit my parents for a week. It was actually lovely, though seriously, the first two days of having them there all the time, bugging me all the time nearly killed me. I made it through, though! We went to the zoo, which was brilliant - I love zoos, and frankly zoos with little kids are pretty awesome. Also realised that these children are the best children in the world, because we walked miles and they barely complained, and when I told them they weren't allowed ice creams there was only a small amount of dissent in the ranks.

Me and the kids, with me looking like a GIANT.

We also took a trip into London, went to the park and went swimming. Reliving my childhood!

After returning to France, I had a week with the kids at home all the time which I appear to have repressed due to trauma, and then I had a week with just smallest child which was adorable. But also quite stressful because the family were doing a house swap with an American family for their holiday, and so the house had to be pristine for when these people arrived. I, naturally, as it's my job, was in charge of the general housekeepingy part of it - the mum and dad did the DIY stuff because entrusting me with that would essentially have been like saying 'Hey, fuck this house, we don't like it any more, let's let Kate raze it to the ground'. Brooms, I can do, but hammers? Not so much.

After that, they left! And I was on three weeks enforced vacation, alas alas. I'm writing this a week and a half after returning to work, so it's kind of funny to think about how worried I was about being bored. BORED? I didn't have TIME to be bored! So many friends to see, things to do, la la la. The American family who took over the house were super nice; I went sightseeing with them one day and holy crap it was exhausting, but also super fun. Katherine, as previously mentioned, returned for a visit and I can't remember what we did but I suspect it wasn't very energetic. Dani and I made it to Musée du Quai Branly which was freaky but awesome - loads of masks and ceremonial trinkets.

Aix Les Bains

At the start of August, I went on a mini-break to Aix les Bain with my mum. It was lovely! The weather in Paris had been pretty terrible - I'd almost forgotten it was summer - but further south (in the mountains!) it was sunny and lovely. We spent most of our time wandering around and eating, but we also took a bus up a mountain (because we are adventurers) and saw Mont Blanc! (We think...)

View from the mountain

We also saw paragliders!

We also took a boat across the lake which was super pretty only I fell asleep for a lot of it. The commentary was in French and full of statistics so obviously spent most of my time working out the numbers and not a lot of time actually listening to the commentary. Consequently can't remember any interesting facts, apart from that the lake we were on - Lake Bourget - is the biggest lake in France. This is slightly pathetic, especially since it's near Lake Léman - the lake Geneva is on - which is way bigger and still pretty small in the grand scheme of things.

See? Pathetic. We ate lots of nice meals and I got stung by a wasp. All in all a nice, well rounded holiday! She then came back to Paris with me and we had a day together which saw us fail to get into the Musée D'Orsay for the third time (previously we had been too late, this time it was too busy!). We then spent most of the day hanging out in the Tuileries people watching. It was excellent!

The next week was largely Canadian based - I hung out with my friend Katie who was visiting with her family, and then I met three Canadian boys in a hostel a friend of a friend was staying at. They were amazing and I spent three days with them, wandering around Paris and doing quite a bit of touristy stuff I had previously failed to do! One of the guys and I realised we were museum soulmates (in that, we have no attention spans and are consequently crap at museums). He's invited me to go visit him in Montreal, where he's at university and lives with one of the other guys, and as part of his campaign to get me there, has included the campus museum which apparently has dinosaurs and shrunken heads in it! As if I needed an extra reason to go to Montreal on holiday! Anyway, here are a series of photos from wandering around with the boys:

Boyband on top of the Arc de Triomphe

AHAHAHA SO TINY.

La Defense

Levitating at the Eiffel Tower

Currently, I am at the kids' grandparents house which is where I was after Peru last year. It's a bit less of a shock being here after having spent the summer in France - after the excitement of Peru I nearly went insane here last time - but I still dislike it. It is, as the blog title suggests, in the middle of freaking nowhere. I got the weekend off this year (I got it off last year, but didn't go back to Paris - error!) so that has helped, and as I write I only have 24 hours left here so I am bearing up.

After this, I only have three days left of work until the New Aupair comes. Dun dun dunnn. Then 11th September is when I leave France forever. It's only like, two and a half weeks, which is just insane. After that, a week at home with all my family (for the first time since Christmas!) and then off to university! Less than a month until that happens. Where has this year gone? And why is it ending??

My Pant's

Gosh, only five days since I last updated? What is the world coming to?

There was a serious amount of heat this weekend - looks like summer has finally decided to stay. I mean, it's always possible it'll go again, but the temperature hasn't dipped below 15 degrees in the daytime for a while now, so I'm keeping my hopes up. Saturday it rose to the giddy heights of 27 degrees, so Katherine and I put on our short shorts and retired to the Bois de Boulogne for a wonderful hour of people watching. We saw:

2 guys playing ukuleles

Many topless old guys

A dad racing his son on a tiny tiny scooter

A kid on a bike smoothing back his hair

Many, many fashion mistakes.

Very productive.

After that, I rushed back home to get my tickets for Eddie Izzard, only to find out on my way back (already running late) that I hadn't even needed to go get them. So annoying. Consequently, I missed the first fifteen minutes and nearly wasn't let in to the show, but I looked so upset they let me in! Well, the show was excellent; entirely in French and I understood it all (though his accent is super easy to understand). It was only an hour long, so I only saw 45 minutes, but then Dani and I stood outside for about half an hour to wait for him to leave so we could meet him... and we did! It was so exciting. We got his autograph and a picture with him and then we shook his hand. I also confirmed that he is planning to run for London Mayor in 2020, which is pretty cool!

After that, Katherine came and met us and we hung out by a fountain in Pigalle and did some more people watching. Seriously, Paris is the place to go for such activities. We saw some tiny hipster kids that were super unnerving - how were they so small and yet so hipster?

Le prochain jour, Dani and I decided to go for an amble around gay Paree; our default activity on the weekend. I hate museums (as I have the attention span of a flea) and there is almost nothing else to do in Paris besides walk around or shop. Since neither of us are particularly inclined towards spending money at the moment, we walked around.

Currently, we are eschewing the metro as our default mode of intermediary transport in favour of the bus. As previously mentioned, the weather has picked up somewhat recently, so getting on the stifling metro is not exactly an appealing idea. Buses, on the other hand, are airier and due to Paris's abundance of monuments, tend to take you via at least three well known tourist spots regardless of your starting point and destination. Generally just more appealing. The one I took to go and meet Dani did not disappoint, taking me via the Eiffel Tower, Tour Montparnasse and depositing me at Jardin du Luxembourg, where I met Dani by a guy playing an accordian.

We strolled through the Jardin, through the Latin Quarter, across the river, past the Louvre, past Place des Victoires (where a segment of Paris, Je T'aime is filmed) and then through the 2eme arrondissement, chatting about this and that. It was lovely.

Happy members of the EU.

We also saw many amusing things, a selection of which I have provided for you below.

St. Traffic Cones.

His hoes are super jealous of his balloon

This means 'the postman hasn't come'.

We have seen a lot of hilariously named shops in Paris. Herein follows a list of the ones I can remember:

Gladys (Pet Shop)

Homies (Slightly bohemian Clothes Store)

Homeyz (Ghetto/Pimpin' Furniture Store)

My Pant's (Clothes Store)

I Love My Blender (Stationery?)

Sky Kevin (Clothes)

There are many more. The Asian stores near Dani are particularly forthcoming with excellent names. I shall make a list and put it on my flickr because goddammit, I signed up for it and may as well use it.

In other news, today I discovered this genius and then showed it to the kids who loved it. These kids are gonna be so cool. I even got a video of smallest child dancing to it, which deserves to be immortalised on the internet so I can show him when he's older.

April

Whoops, I completely forgot to post in April. I nearly remembered but I was at work at the time and I always feel bad doing anything productive while I'm busy procrastinating on someone else's time. It is okay to watch tv programmes - working my way through the entire seven series of House while the ironing pile mounts to a height taller than me is perfectly acceptable - or to spend hours at a time reading textsfromlastnight.com, but it is not okay to actually do anything that might be construed as slightly productive. I am actually writing this at work, so that has clearly gone out the window, but the children are watching tv and ignoring me, so I don't really have anything else to do. Not my fault, in summary. And I am doing something productive by just being here and making sure they don't have access to scissors/flamethrowers/acid or anything else. Really, I am an exemplary employee.

Since writing the above paragraph, lunch has happened and I am waiting for the three year old to finish his goddamned icecream (he's been eating it for nearly half an hour) so I can put him to bed. Eldest child is doing her homework, which she enjoys doing because she's researching on the internet and she enjoys doing anything where she's staring at a screen. Middle child is probably sulking, because that seems to be her default emotion at the moment.

So, what happened in April?

Well, I got into Sheffield University to do a Masters in Speech Therapy. I wrote about going there in March, and had pretty much lost hope before I got an e-mail a couple of weeks ago informing me that I had been offered a place. I nearly hyperventilated. My mum did hyperventilate. My dad, who was listening to my mum, assumed I had died.

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited and... I mean, I know I should be? But I'm not. I've been trying to rationalise it, but I have no idea why I literally feel nothing about it. I'm not dreading it - my overall thoughts about it are positive but I just don't feel anything active towards the idea of spending two years in England. I suppose I should just be pleased that I don't want to cry every time I think about it because I don't want to leave Paris.

I went back to England for a week in early April as Katie, of Peru fame, had returned from gallivanting around the world for a month. She was bringing her Kiwi boyfriend with her who I was dying to meet, but right up until the last moment, I wasn't even sure I would be allowed time off while she was in the right hemisphere. Originally I had been informed that we were going skiing and then down to Bordeaux over the Easter holidays but two days before Katie returned to the homestead I was told that, due to there not being enough snow on the mountains, we weren't going skiing. Instead, the family was going down to Biarritz and while I was welcome to come, I was under no obligation to.

Well, I booked my tickets back home tout de suite and arrived back mid afternoon on the 9th April, where I spent a delightful 10 days swanning about in Hertfordshire and surrounding areas. I saw my parents, which was nice, if slightly unnecessary since they were coming to visit me in Paris a week later anyway. I went into London to visit my cousin, and we ate at a delicious tapas place in Covent Garden, and then went for a walk along the river. It is always weird seeing a skyline without the Eiffel Tower poking out from behind a building. I'm going to miss it. I shall have to stick pictures of it in obscure places around my room to make myself feel better. I also went up to Cambridge to see my grandma for dinner, which was really nice, though the food was kind of bland.

I also, of course, saw Katie and Tom. Tom is lovely and had an amazing accent, Katie is still lovely and disgustingly tanned. We went out a couple of nights in Hitchin, which of course filled me with glee because I love Hitchin, it's my favourite place in the world... Nah, I did enjoy it really, but largely because I was with Katie and she makes me happy enough to enjoy spending evenings in a pub with people who live in Hertfordshire. *shudder* I can't believe I don't know when I next might see her! Then she and I spent the entire day before I left together and wandered round Hitchin eating sandwiches and chatting about life.

The church in Hitchin

The Royal Wedding occurred on the 29th (as everyone who reads this blog is fully aware, as you are all English). I watched it at work, as part of my 'do not do anything productive' plan, and spent the whole time talking to Dani on skype. Sample part of the conversation:

Kate: HATS

Dani: SO MANY HATTTSSSSS

Dani: FASCINATOR!

Kate: BEAAAARDDD

Dani: QUEEN! YELLOW IS SO GOOD.

We descended a few levels mentally whilst watching it, I think.

That evening, we all met up in a Scottish pub which was showing the highlights and Katherine and I spent a lot of time being excited about it together. Who knew I cared so much?? The next day our friend Claire had her birthday party which was 'Best of British' themed, so I bought an English flag from WH Smiths and Katherine and I drew Union Jacks on our hands. Actually, we also drew an English and Scottish flag to represent our separate nationalities...except Katherine forgot what the Scottish flag looked like and I doubt I ever knew, so we drew that wrong. She is ashamed. Here is a photo to immortalise that shame on the internet forever:

The horror. The treason.

Why yes that is the Moulin Rouge. We were just passing as, you know, we live there, and it's totally passé now because we see it all the time....

[I suspect my grin and thumbs up may be slightly undermining my attempt at casualness.]

I think that's everything of significance? I am definitely going to start updating this more regularly. I'm sure I'm interesting enough to merit more than two posts in as many months. Also, I need to start documenting my time here so that when I leave and inevitably forget everything within a week, I will have some place I can come back to and remember it all.

Just a normal day...

Today, middle child broke a plate just after the hoover packed it in. I shrunk eldest child's favourite dress in the tumble dryer. I emptied the fridge to clean it and smallest child freaked out, saying "We haven't got anymore food!". He was reassured when I pointed it all laid out on the counter behind him. It was 14 degrees and I went to pick up the kids without wearing a coat. I discovered that the French radio station NRJ plays the uncensored versions of songs, has practically no adverts and has substituted annoying DJs for celebrities such as Katy Perry and Lady Gaga talking in bad French. The cat has decided it loves us again, purely based on the fact that we now give it Whiskas. Middle child informed me that the reason I couldn't open a vacuum sealed jar earlier was because I 'don't have enough muscles' and then suggested I move over and let her have a go. She also informed me that I brush smallest child's teeth wrong and proceeded to cover the entire bathroom with toothpaste spray whilst demonstrating how to do it properly. She had to colour a tortoise in different colours for her homework, and then later dropped all the felt tip pens on the floor. I received a bouquet of flowers picked from the garden from the two youngest kids.

Do I have to leave?

Sleep deprivation made me do it.

Have a picture of two dinosaur bracelets fighting it out on my bed. You are welcome.

So, I am still getting on well with the kids. It is kind of freaky, and I am not sure if I can deal with it for much longer. Where is all the whining and the anger and the me completely losing my shit with them? Today I read smallest child a story about dinosaurs. It was adorable. He is generally pretty freaking adorable, though he manages to avoid being too adorable for life by pooing in his pants every now and again and making me deal with the consequences. Honestly? That kind of behaviour would destroy my love for my own flesh and blood.

On Tuesday I had a fun ten hour jaunt to England for an interview at Sheffield University.

In summary: I got up at 6am, walked up a hill, took two trains and a bus to the airport, got on a plane in France, got off a plane in England, got a coach, got a tram, walked a long way in shoes that were too small, met a lot of nice girls, blustered my way through an interview, walked even further in shoes that were too small, bought some new shoes, got on a train, nearly missed my connection, got on another train, got on the Eurostar in England, got off the Eurostar in France, got four trains home, walked up a hill and collapsed into bed at 1am.

The next day I decided that, rather than staying in and having an early night to recover from aforementioned exhausting day, it would be a really good idea to go to a concert! Yeah! Woo! *twitch*

It was due to start at 7.30pm, so naturally we were a good hour and a half late and arrived a mere ten minutes before Stromae came on stage in all his nerdy cardiganed, bow tied glory. It was amazing. I obviously already liked his music, but he was also an excellent performer, and super funny. I don't know why it didn't occur to me that he'd talk in French, given that all his music is in French, but there we are. That's how deeply immersed I am in French culture: people speaking in French still come as a surprise. I understood the majority of what he said though, so I appear to have accidentally assimilated some French despite largely ignoring its existence most of the time.

Currently I am sitting at home on a Friday night, and it's 11.30pm and I am so happy I am not doing something to burn my body out any more. I ache from tired. (That being said, I finished watching a movie an hour ago but couldn't quite bring myself to go to bed at 10.30 on a Friday evening. I may be losing my mental capacities because I am so tired, but damned if I'm going to lose any of my extensive street cred by having an early night on a Friday. No sir. Not this crazy kid.)

Oh dear. Goodnight.

Breakthrough

Shortly after posting the...post below, I was called upon to bathe and pyjama the children while the dad cooked dinner. As 'cooking dinner' largely involved 'watching cauliflower boil', this was probably a slight abuse of his power but whatever, I'd do the same. Whilst I was soaking them with water, various nice things happened:

1.Smallest child gave me a voluntary hug.

2.Smallest child let me wash his hair without screaming and he actually tipped his head back and closed his eyes when I asked him to (this almost certainly contributed to the "not screaming" part).

3. He then, after putting up a small fight, ceded peacefully to my demand that he get out the bath before his sister.

4. Middle child only had to be asked once to get out the bath.

5. I didn't even have to ask her to put her pyjamas on (though admittedly that is the next logical step after 'getting out the bath'. Still, small victories).

6. Eldest child and I had a lovely conversation about hair and my childhood holidays. She didn't ask any annoying questions and I didn't have to tell her to shut up.

Then as we were sitting around eating dinner, eldest child asked if I was leaving next year and when I said only if I got into graduate school, she said "I hope you don't, so you can stay"!

What is going on? Have I finally broken them? They actually like me now?

My mind, she is blown.

Holidays

It's February half term time! Two weeks of sick, mopey children mopin' around the place being all mopey and sick. Yes, that's right. Two weeks. Sick, mopey children. You heard me correctly! Last week, due to aforementioned sick, mopey children, I didn't leave the house for five whole days. I would put lots of exclamation marks after that sentence but it goes against my moral standing. I shall, instead, repeat it for emphasis: FIVE WHOLE DAYS. That is a very, very long time. I went out Friday evening with my friends and got overly hysterical - even more so than usual, which is pretty hysterical, I'm not going to lie.

This week, their dad is off work, which has mildly improved the situation but I still haven't left the house for TWO WHOLE DAYS. Smallest child is super sick, so I had to look after him this morning while he was mopin' around watching TV. More mopin' and sickin'. Eugh.

If I don't get sick soon, I am going to be very surprised.

Positive aspects of this holiday:

1. I got to eat lunch in front of the TV last Thursday.

2. The house is nice and tidy.

3. I haven't actually murdered any of them yet. Or even wanted to! This is a long term positive.

4.Today the girls went to Musée d'Orsay with their dad and bought an awesome picture book back with them.

5. On Friday, Dani and I made tuna pasta bake which was excellent even though I do say so myself.

That's all I've got. Happy holidays!

Hypochondria

I appear to have convinced myself that I have developed a wheat intolerance. Is that even possible? All I know is, I ate two biscuits for breakfast this morning (not unusual, chocolate digestives since you're asking) and I have had a stomach ache ever since. It's not a really bad stomach ache, like what I get when I'm on my period, it's like I kinda need to go to the toilet. Except, I just went to the toilet, and sat on it for ten minutes before getting bored and I still have a stomach ache. So I don't think it's that.

The bonus to my hypochondria, which has never been as full blown as this apart from one time when I was really ill and delirious and hadn't slept properly in three days and became convinced that part of my trachea had dislodged due to all my coughing and I was going to die (I spent the best part of the night trying to shove it back into place which only reinforced my convictions that my throat was going to collapse), is that I have been avoiding the biscuit cupboard like the plague today. I want a biscuit so badly because I have a biscuit addiction, particularly a chocolate digestive addiction, but I have managed to resist. So I'm thinking that maybe I should just pretend to myself that I have a wheat intolerance so I can finally stop eating all the biscuits and all the bread and all the carbohydrate based crap that I basically spend the best part of my day hoovering up via my mouth. This stomach ache is slightly annoying though, so I hope it isn't actually a wheat intolerance because that would suck so much. What would I even eat?

I don't want to google it because I have thus far avoided becoming one of those people who google all their symptoms and ends up being convinced they have at least one of four terminal diseases, but I feel it is only a matter of time before I start down that slippery slope. I am just determined to delay it as long as possible. Also, my only symptom is 'stomach ache after eating biscuits for breakfast' which I don't really feel merits a trip to NHS Direct. I would also probably get a lecture from a virtual nurse about how eating biscuits for breakfast is a stupid idea and a sure fire way to develop something, be it a wheat intolerance or obesity. My mum keeps telling me off for eating stuff like biscuits and coco pops for breakfast when I live in France and I could have baguette or pain au chocolat or croissants for breakfast every day. Frankly, I think that would be as bad for me as Coco Pops every day, and also I think the novelty of sweet, sweet chocolatey bread would wear off over time and I never want there to be a point in my life where I get bored of pain au chocolat. Also, I can't be bothered to walk to the bakery every day - it's at least ten minutes away - just for breaded products, when there are chocolate digestives in the cupboard. You see my dilemma, I'm sure.

Living it up in the Louvre

So, I did go to the Louvre again, fully intending to appreciate the works of art there and become more cultured and understand more things about art. However, guidebooks are crazy expensive and not really worth it because the Louvre is so big and I have lived here for sixteen months and only been twice and not even seen most of it. So, I didn't get a guidebook and most of the information by the paintings/statues/whatever is useless, so I am no more educated than I used to be.

It was, however, extremely amusing. I discovered that deciding what the people were thinking while their portrait was being painted was far more entertaining than actually learning facts. I mean, come on! I took far too few photos, but this one blew my mind so much I nearly dropped my camera in my haste to digitally commemorate it.

Amazing. I just want to kiss whoever painted that. It was meant to be of a monarch (a Henri of France, I think) dressed up as Hercules. Can you imagine Hercules striking a pose like this? Hercules was way to hardcore to prance around posing with hydras all day long. Seriously. Also, how many English Henrys would have let a portrait..er get away with painting this hilariously flattering image? I don't think so. Still, that's the French for you.

I went to the museum with my friend Martha who managed to intimidate me by saying things like "Oh yes, I recognise that, it's so obviously Gobi's style" and "Oh, you can just tell by glancing that that's a Turner". How do people know these things? It's like my brother who can listen to a piece of classic music and come out with "Oh, this is Beethoven's ninth symphony, I recognise the clarinets". I don't even know if there are clarinets in Beethoven's ninth symphony, which I feel only strengthens my point. Clearly I missed a crucial part of my education somewhere. It must have been that one day I was ill in six years of schooling. If only I wasn't such a hypochondriac, think how cultured I would be now!

Much more pleasingly, I managed to find the tacky gift shop where you can buy all manner of Mona Lisa themed items. I didn't find it last time and ended up in the classy gift shop where you can largely just buy expensive porcelain and jewellery and books. Psh! This time was much better, though I did have to persuade myself I didn't need a matching Mona Lisa notebook-pen set or a whole lot of stone scarabs, purely for the sake of my bank balance. I was sorely tempted by an Asterix themed triva card set, attractively priced at only 10€, but as I spent 35€ on a skirt two days ago, I dragged my eyes away and went to look at stuff that was far too expensive and which made me want to run out of the shop crying with hate.

So there we go. That was my attempt at culture for the weekend. The rest of the time was spent in bars/restaurants/bookshops/myhouse. We did go and look at the Sacre Coeur... at least, sort of. And we stood outside the Notre Dame and took pictures to prove we'd been there. Oh yes. Maybe I will make more of an effort for the next person who comes and visits. Maybe.

La Haine

Just bought the film La Haine (after seeing a tattoo of a quote from it). I am excited to watch it, because the last time I watched it, I was 18 and my French wasn't all that great. I guess I understood maybe...45% then, and I want to know how much I'm going to understand this time. Given that it's about three guys from the banlieues who speak crazy slang French, I'm not overly hopeful that I'll understand it all, but it'll be good to see how much I actually do.

The tattoo, incidentally, was of the quote 'jusqu'ici, tout va bien' which is something that Vince quotes the whole way through the film. I like the quote, even though it means nothing to me (it means 'so far, so good'), just because of the way he says it.

Organising

My New Year's Resolution this year was to stop procrastinating so much at work, and so far it's not been going very well as I have been spending most mornings asleep and sometimes the afternoons too. It was becoming pretty obvious (to me, at least) that I wasn't doing enough work because the house was almost permanently messy and I didn't have the energy to deal with it because I was sleeping so much (oh, the irony!).

So this weekend, as the family was away, I decided to have a day of cleaning. Addi was working (again!), Dani was working (finally!) and Katherine was in London with her family, so as I basically had no friends left it seemed the perfect time to get the house back in order. The kids had all been sleeping in the same room as the heating was broken and I swear to god, everytime I went in there, even if I'd tidied it hours before, it was messy, so I decided this meant they had too many toys and went a bit mad. I chucked two whole binbags of crap out and put another binbag in the basement full of Ernest's old baby toys. I feel so much better now and the house is still tidy three days later. Bliss. Definitely worth working on a weekend. Also means that I will still get paid for the whole week despite missing Monday to gallivant around in Geordie-land.

I also decided that this week I would stop sleeping all the bloody time and would get up when I was paid to get up (8.15am), and so far I have managed it! It's 9.30 now on the second day of trying it and I feel more awake than I have for ages, and the house is already tidied.

I think my back up career should definitely be as an organiser. People do that you know, get paid for organising people's crap. That is my idea of heaven.

Hm, just got distracted by looking at pictures of tattoos. I saw a site once where most of the tattoos were truly horrendous - like that lady with the huge twilight tattoo on her back. That kind of calibre of awful. This site, if you're interested, is slightly better. I don't think I'll ever get a tattoo because I'm too much of a wimp - not pain wise, although I am pretty wimpy, but just in terms of thinking "oh god what if I hate it later!". Hard to commit. My friend Addi is getting one for every country she's lived in; she's lived in Romania and the USA so far, though she hasn't got one from the USA yet, I guess 'cause she's not done living there (or possibly because she only came up with this idea since moving to France!). I like that idea, but I think possibly I'll only do it if I end up living in a third country.

Ahahahaha check this one out. Good lord. The caption was 'Not only have I stuck with Harry until the very end, he's stuck with me'. What does that even mean?

This weekend my friend Martha is coming to visit me. She currently lives in Valencia, in Spain, which is pretty cool, but it is way hard to get to Paris from there. She's flying with Vueling and she went to print off her boarding pass last night and discovered they had changed the time of the flight from 7am to like, 6.30pm! They hadn't let her know or anything. How stupid is that? So she gets a day less here which is lame, although I'm working anyway so it doesn't matter too much. While she is here, we plan to go to the Louvre and also to an exhibition at the Bibliotheque Nationale. I enjoy it when people come to visit me because it makes me do more stuff than I would normally; last weekend's expedition to Belleville was unusual. Usually my weekends consist of going out till really late, then sleeping really late the next day, then not really doing anything else. That is, of course, the problem with living somewhere - so much cool stuff to do, but you always have the option of doing it another day, so it just gets put off. My other problem is that I am disastrously uncultured. The last time I went to the Louvre, I basically spent the entire time sniggering at all the silly statues and paintings in there. This time I am buying a guide book.

Heating

OH GOD YES WE HAVE HEATING.

The heating broke about a week and a half ago, and so we haven't had hot water or heating for that entire time. Yes. In January. No, I haven't been showering enough. They've come back twice to try and fix it, but the guy today finally managed it! Excellent! I am so hot I might take my hoody off. YES PEOPLE IT HAS COME TO THIS.

I am so happy.

Commitment

This weekend I flew to Newcastle for a Masters interview. I think it went okay, but it was all in groups so there is literally no way of telling - I am not getting my hopes up.

Unfortunately, I do not have any amusing anecdotes to tell. I did leave my passport on the plane (coming back) when getting off it, which luckily somebody picked up and gave to a security woman who ran after me and caught up with me at Border Control (I had realised by then). So that was nice, if thoroughly retarded on my part, and thanks mysterious person for not stealing my identity! I saw a guy with a pink Betty Boop suitcase, which delighted me inordinately. I assume he had a girlfriend or a female relation, but I didn't see them anywhere!

Newcastle was very cold and my best friend texted me to tell me she was in Bondi while I was trudging through the grey streets - jealousy does not even come close to describing my emotions! It's cold back in Paris now, which I am gutted about (though not entirely surprised by), as I spent all of Saturday walking round the 20th arrondissiment in just my hoody. I had entertained the hope that maybe - just maybe - winter had gone! But no, as Dani says, he 'ad just taken a leetle weekend break, but ee is back now, fully revitalised. (He's French, obviously)

Katherine and I went to various parks in the 20th - Parc de Belleville and Parc des Buttes Chaumont, and they were excellent! It was a wonderful, sunny day, and we walked round for ages. We were going to go to Pere LaChaise cemetery (of Oscar Wilde burial fame) but it shuts really early, so we walked down Canal St Martin instead, which was very pretty but had fewer dead famous people than Pere LaChaise. Here are some photos of Saturday:

Canal St. Martin

Parc des Buttes-Chaumont

Sacre Coeur!

View from Parc de Belleville

Am I invisible?

I have literally never repeated myself so many times in one day.

Today I spent:

20 minutes saying: Please help me tidy up the playdough (limited success)

45 minutes saying: Please concentrate on your homework (complete success but at a price)

7 minutes saying: Please tidy away your homework (complete success)

15 minutes saying: Please go upstairs and tidy your room (limited success)

10 minutes saying: Please put your pyjamas on (two children, no success at all)

*twitch*

However, we did come to a happy compromise whereby they behaved themselves at the dinner table and I didn't tell their mum they'd been annoying.

Musica

This is officially my new favourite song. If you like Mariachi music/Bedouin Soundclash/Coeur de Pirate and/or good songs, you will love this song.

http://www.missionbells.viinyl.com/?locale=en

My internet is being crazy slow at the moment. It is driving me mad. I am going to pester my boss to sort out the proper internet. I can't even watch youtube (though I suspect that has something to do with this computer as I could on my old one).

Actual advice

Don't spend all day sitting in front of your new computer, only paying attention to the kids when they do something wrong. Definitely not in the rulebook.

Having said that, I'm happy, they're happy..win-win! Apart from middle child, who wants me to help her put her trousers on, and I am refusing, because she is 6. She is probably just sitting on the floor in her room getting cross with me, but she knows how to put them on, she's just being lame. Meanwhile, eldest child is wandering round in just tights. I feel like I should make her put some trousers on, but truly, I can't be bothered. If she isn't cold (which I assume she isn't) then it's up to her.

Youngest child is fully trousered.