Saturday, 30 June 2012


I'm back home now. I need to do another quick blog post because I feel really bad about slagging off the au pair family now. The mum came home at midnight and as soon as she came through the door she said:

"You want cake?"

"Yes." I said, leaping off the couch.

"Ok then I prepare it for you." she said.

I slammed my laptop closed, threw it in my bag and followed her into the kitchen. She put four little cupcakes into a tupperware box and then five plastic shot glasses with weird, solid shots of brightly-coloured mousse or something inside. As she helped me to put them in my bag she said: "Op, op. Tac, tac. Woop." and then she mimed turning something upside down. I didn't really know what to say so I just said thank you about six times and then ran out.

I would do anything for cake. Someone could hack my arm off with a rusty machete, then give me a cake and by the second slice I'd be saying through a mouthful of crumbs, "They say it's good for your brain, learning to write with the other hand."

Whenever I have an arguement with someone, I get more annoyed afterwards when they insist on talking through what happened and trying to justify themselves, whereas they could save us both the trouble and just buy me a fucking cake.

Anyway, something else happened between this post and my last post. As soon as I 'published' that last post, I got a text from my manager at work:

Read the blog. Love it.

I felt like someone had knocked all the breath out of me. Somebody has shown her my blog and she has read it. Ok... ok... I tried to quickly think what I've written about the restaurant, but before I could she sent me another text saying she's guessed the person I have a crush on. Also she wants me and Mez to write a rap for her about the restuarant and perform it at work. We've already started it but I won't give anything away, all I will say that is that Mez's rapper name is Furrrious Stylez AKA Da Triggaaa Fingaa and mine is Genie B AKA The Lime Slicer.

I think my name needs a bit of work.

Anyway I need to go to bed now, I hope my manager didn't read the post I wrote tonight, about not being able to work next Thursday and Friday.

Fucking hell I need to be more careful.


  1. She said: "Op, op. Tac, tac. Woop."

    Definitely French then, ha ha! Was it good?

    1. Hmm the cakes were nice but the mousse thing in plastic shot glasses was a bit weird- it was so brightly coloured, it look like paint when it tries and go solid and shiny...

  2. lol I hate it when French people make their little noises. I've slowly trained Max over the years not to say "op" for every little movement he makes. For the longest time, I thought he was saying "up" and would look up towards the ceiling.

    1. For a minute I thought you were talking about one of your pets, 'trained'? Ha ha. Op, op. Who knows what it actually means, what does tac tac mean anyway? They use it for everrrrrything!

  3. While it seems like you mostly like your host mum, I always feel so conflicted when people I don't like give me chocolate/cake, because I try to remember to continue disliking them but my brain just goes, "CAKE! They must be an angel if they gave you CAKE!"

    1. Thanks for the comment, glad I'm not the only cake-lover out there!

  4. I get in blog trouble sometimes too! It never occurred to me that people in my real life actually read it. I thought they were just blowing smoke up my ass, but no, they read it. So yeah, being careful is key which is kind of annoying because isn't this supposed to our "safe place"?

    I admire you what you do day to day. Working with children AS WELL AS French people and their food must not be an easy feat! Bravo!