I feel very terrible. Whoever said that French people are sensible with alcohol because they are used to drinking red wine from an early age (in a sippy cup with their carrot purée) was a Bad Liar and also had never been out with Abby and Julia.
I need to stop doing this to my body. I've got a cold, I never get colds. My immune system has been slowly hacked down by vodka, gin, martini and wine. BLERGH.
We never made it to Favela Chic. 'Pre-drinking' turned into plain old exessive binge drinking, until it was too late to go anywhere. We were having too much of a good time watching French rap songs on YouTube and shouting over the top of each other enthusiastically. The furthest we got was the shop, to buy more alcohol, which was a disgusting mistake and not neccessary. I remember eating a lot of cheese and TUC biscuits and a weird bacon flavoured goo that Olivia insisted wasn't pâté... turns out there is more than one meat-based mush product to be eaten in this country.
The plan was to get more alcohol before the shops closed and then go for a drink somewhere, but all the bars around Bastille were closing, which was very annoying because it was only 2am and it was a Friday night. As we walked past Charlotte's Bar, Abby noticed they had a sign in the window looking for staff, so we all thought it would be a good idea if I went in and said I wanted the job.
Abby and Julia told me exactly what to say in French, so I went in, explained to the bouncer that I didn't want a drink, I wanted a job (he was trying to say they were closing up) and asked to speak to the manager and he told me to bring a CV in today. I'm not sure my chances are great, seeing as I tottered in at two in the morning and I was clearly obliterated, so I won't bother trying to write a CV in French, plus a cover letter because apparently in France even if you are applying to be a shoeshine boy you have to give in a handwritten cover letter, but the point is... that I did it all in French! How exciting for me.
I am up and blogging so early because I am determined not to waste another day in bed, especially as it is So. Fucking. Hot. My room is like a sauna, I can't breathe. It probably doesn't help that I'm drinking a cup of boiling water with honey... (It's for my throat.)
I stayed at Olivia's last night as she has a double bed and I was too drunk to go home alone. The Parisien Walk of Shame was actually not as bad as I expected, although I still wanted to make a sign that said 'I stayed at my FRIEND'S house, NOT at a Random Man's.' I can't believe I don't have a double bed this year. No more gang bangs then.
Anyway, I'm going to a Cambodian thing or something, and there might be food stalls. I still feel a bit drunk. I realise that recently my blog has turned into a 'I got so drunk blah blah' kind of thing, so I'm going to stop. But. Can I just say, that I am actually shocked at how me and Kayt decided on Monday to NOT DRINK at all this week, and it has turned into such a drunken mess. I remember her looking into my eyes and saying 'Don't let anyone tempt you. We can do it can't we??'
And I said YES YES OF COURSE WE CAN! and then that night Georgie brought round some beer to my little Cinderella room so it's her fault.
Oh God! Just remembered... the 'creepy neighbour' who slid the note under Olivia's door on Wednesday knocked on last night, so me, Olivia and Julia hid on the balcony and Abby opened the door. She spoke to them for a bit and said that they are not creepy, they are young, quite fit and one of them is very camp, so maybe they can be our new gay best friends.
Anyway. On Wednesday I kicked a dog in the face, I'll write about that later to get back into the swing of blogging about being an au pair. Oh and I had the best job interview ever yesterday! Hang on I think Vomiting Girl has snuck back into my life...