Wednesday, 12 January 2011


This so called 'year in paris' of mine is so half-arsed. The family are going away for a week in Febuary and I planned to remain here and enjoy the City of Light and have some visitors (friends, not aliens) but now my guests have Flaked Out and I want to go home for the week but I can't afford it now after spending my money on that one night in April.

Argh. I want to go home! Not now, but I mean when I have the opportunity I want to take it and I caaaan't because I spent all my money.

How is it I now get paid FOUR TIMES as much as I did before, yet I am still skint?

I don't know what to do. Shall I stay in Paris for the week all on my lonesome because everyone I know here will be going home for the week. Should I try and get someone to visit me?

Or should I go back to England, maybe plan a stop-over rave in London with Kat?

Or, surprise third option, should I plan to go away somewhere in France with Amo for the week?

I can't afford to do anything really but if I could just persuade my mum to put some of her money in to my bank account, that would really get the ball rolling. I get paid at the end of this month but my bundle of *classified*-hundred euros will be useless. I feel like I am living through the depression in post WW-Germany; I'll be swimming in piles (ok maybe just the one very small pile) of paper money but it will be worthless.I won't be able to put it into my English bank account and buy Eurostar tickets with it.

For all the moaning and talking about England I do on this blog I may as well not be here at all. In fact, I only ever post pictures of mermaids and weird food, for all you know I could not be in Paris at all, I could be hiding in a cellar in Grimsby...

(some time later)

Ha! Went to the end of the road and took some shit pictures of the Eiffel Tower, so now you know. I am here.

Haha unless it is really the Blackpool tower!

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