Friday, 18 March 2011

Stop Apologising For... Sunday

This time last week I was on my way to meet Rachel, Rosie and Jen on the Champs Élysées for a cocktail and we had the whole drunken weekend ahead of us... When they arrived I said 'I'm not even excited because you'll be gone soon' and I was kind of joking but not really. As soon as anything good happens all I can think is 'It will be over soon.' Kat and Mikee arrive tomorrow, but soon they will be gone. Abi arrived last night but she is staying with Lauren, maybe she heard about the toenails, and I've not seen her yet. I am in a proper emo mood, have just been skulking around listening to that Nicki Minaj song on repeat like a Mental.

Anyway, for continiuity's sake, I will finish regalling you with tales of last weekend, although my heart's not really in it since my mum sent me an email:

Read blog, v.funny! Worried about the strange man giving you money. Be careful.

Mum, if you've somehow managed to find your way onto my blog again, don't worry about the strange man giving me money, I only had to give him a handjob.

Anyway, last Sunday. We got up very late, went to the little bakery cafe again, ordered so much food that the staff were openly laughing at our Obese English Ways, then went to the Marais where Rosie saw Jamel Debbouze who plays Lucien in Amélie and got a picture with him. I won't post the picture because it is the sort of thing that will show up on Google with a link to this blog and then it's only a matter of time before my au pair family ring me saying 'So you fall asleep and eat all our cheese do you?''.

After the Marais we went to Monmarte, walked up to the Sacre Cœur, then walked down to Pigalle and went into Les Deux Moulins, the cafe that Amélie was filmed in. After the Two Windmills we went for another horrible meal. This time I blame Lauren, because she chose it and as she says so herself, she has 'bad luck' choosing restaurants. Rachel sent her food back and the crème brulée was Pas Bon.

On Monday morning they went off to get the Eurostar and I stayed in bed, then went to work. The week had begun.

And now... it's almost over!

I cannot believe how fast time flies, really it terrifies me.

Obviously I am very excited to see Abi and for Kat and Mikee to come tomorrow, but soon they will be gone. Then it is only a couple of weeks until Mulletover but then that will be over. Then before you know it I will be finishing in Paris and the fuck am I going to do then? Recently I've been talking to my Paris friends about staying here for a bit longer, because I have nothing to go back to really. I mean I love London and I want to live there, but all I love really is the social side of it and if I was earning a decent amount I could go back as often as I could for big nights.

I can't go back and live with my mum because she informed me by text that they have moved to a bungalow in the Derbyshire hills. I can't go back to Liverpool because it will be too tragic coming back from Paris just to do the same thing that I was doing before.

I'm no good at making decisions. I don't even know whether to carry on with my French lessons or not. Actually, that question has been answered for me because I need to re-register in the next two weeks and I have no money at all. I have 100 euros to spend this weekend with Kat and Mikee and then I will be poor as a church mouse until April. And even then I will be skint because I still owe Amo money, I owe my mum money, I need to pay my credit card off at least a little bit and I know I will buy lots of shit when I am in London.

Today in French class I told someone how much I get paid and all the other au pairs were shocked because it is so much more than they are getting. How am I so skint? Normally I would smirk to myself and go 'Because of all the Good Times!' but I am in a Mardy Mood at the moment and nothing can cheer me up. Oh no! Kat and Mikee are arriving tomorrow and I am being a miserable bitch!!! I don't have any milk for a brew I think this is what the problem is. I will go to the shop and then see if I can't enthuse myself.


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