Monday, 18 June 2012


I was just watching the last episode of Girls (watch it if you haven't seen it!) and suddenly realised I could smell burning... for Some Reason I had left my hob on, with a toilet roll and my keys casually touching the edge of the hotplate. I managed to grab the toilet roll before it burst into flames but in my panic I threw in into the wet sink and now I have no toilet roll. My keyring and the plastic top of my door key are now melted into a weird, jagged, liquid shape. It reminds me of this bubbling alien potion thing in 'Prometheus' and I've had to hide them under a plate.

Ok I wrote that paragraph about an hour ago. Since then I have hand-washed all the silky, sequined ridiculously delicate garments that have been lying at the bottom of my washing basket for about six months. I really don't know why I bothered- none of them look any cleaner and now my room is full of wet washing. Also there are about five different pitter patter noises going on- I bet I won't be able to sleep, I'll just lie there, slowly going insane and wishing that I invested in ten items of sensible cotton clothing instead of: two red silk dresses, one black tulle skirt, one ballet pink tulle skirt, one peach, floor-length silk skirt, two sequined tops, a creamy white playsuit, a cream silk camisole and a silky black jacket, which I have now destroyed by screwing it up in the sink and then hanging it on the wrong-sized hangar.

No wonder I have never have anything to wear. I buy these clothes thinking I'll look like a magical princess, when in reality I wear them once, then I either get an unidentifiable stain on them or they stink of smoke so I hide them in my washing basket and wear the same pair of jeans (that have a hole in the crotch) with a black t-shirt every day.

The dripping noise is really pissing me off now. I hope it actually doesn't keep me up all night.

Last night I was awoken at 4am by the sound of thunder and heavy rain on my window. It was raining so much that there was water running down my fireplace and I scrabbled out of bed to move all my shoes that I keep in the grate.

(It's not a working fireplace; it must be left over from the Days of Yore, when a scrawny little servant girl called Bertha- for Some Reason she was a cockney, nobody knows what she was doing in Paris- lived in my room and she'd use the fire to dry her stockings and to make her tea every morning. Sometimes she threw Magic Herbs in the fire and cast love spells on her master, Monsieur Ananas*- a handsome widower who would never look twice at Bertha because although she was pretty in a sooty, scruffy kind of way, she was just a lowly servant... Also he was a raving homosexual, but nobody knew this except for the dapper young perfume salesman who came round every week and one day left Paris without a trace, taking with him half of Monsieur Ananas' fortune. Oh, we are all of us fools in love, especially Bertha, who lived out her years alone, cooped up on the sixth floor of this apartment building with only the pigeons for company. Don't worry Bertha, your memory lives on!)**

There was lightening as well, every few seconds. I couldn't believe it was going on for so long, with such ferocity, I kept expecting a knock on the door from King Lear.

I half-considered staying awake- I had to be up at 7am for the dreaded Théâtre en Anglais lesson- but I eventually drifted back to sleep and had a very strange dream about a millionaire who had made his fortune from selling tins of popcorn and had disappeared off the face of the earth, I found him living on a huge boat like the floating city in Waterworld. Then I had a dream that I was doing the theatre class in the dining room/sports hall (remember when you used to do P.E after dinner and you'd get peas on your feet? Who was I talking to about this recently?) and there were hundreds of students and it was going really well. Everyone in the class understood English and there were even other teachers from the school who had come in to watch my lesson, because I was such a brilliant teacher...

Then I woke up and it was 8am, meaning I was going to be very fucking late for my lesson and not in fact, the brilliant teacher I had been in my dreams.

Normally I have to leave at ten to eight, five to at the latest. As I ran through the metro station looking for my line, I got a text from the other teacher, telling me she was going to be five minutes late. Shit shit shit.

We both arrived at the same time, looking at each other with horrified expressions when we both realised the other one wasn't already in the class. The playground was empty, school had already started. We went to find the headteacher and she said all the kids had gone to their normal lessons (they get taken out especially to do our class) and that we would have to go and collect them.

When we finally rounded them all up, we found an empty classroom and decided to try that instead of the gym, to see if they behaved any better in a smaller space... They didn't, but it was easier to control them and there was nothing in the room for them to climb up, jump off or batter each other with. There's only two more lessons left anyway- YESSSS.

After the class, me and the other teacher went to see the lady who runs the theatre classes and I gave her all my receipts and stuff. She said she'll ring me this week to let me know how much she can refund. I'm not holding out much hope, I only gave her coach and Eurostar tickets worth 230 euros, so even if she refunds all of it, it's still not as much as I originally thought. I'm such an idiot! I've had all year to collect restaurant receipts that I can claim back on 'expenses' and I haven't saved a single one. Pfft.

Well, I wanted to tell you about Wanderlust last Friday, and Nouveau Casino this Friday just gone, and the rest of Sam and Kat's visit, and Jen's visit... but now I'm too tired so I'm going to sit in bed and read instead.

*There are lots of people in France with the surname Ananas, honestly. It's not just that I couldn't be bothered thinking of a real French surname...
**I sense I've gone too far this time with my ridiculous fantasising.


  1. I think you must have got the same storm we had, only a couple of hours later...

  2. At least your key didn't melt! Can you imagine how horrible that would have been?

    1. How hot do you think her hot plate is Lisa?

      LBM aren't you glad I introduced you to Girls? Can't believe it's all over so quickly, sad times.

      Olivia xxx

    2. Haha thanks Lisa, it would have been fucking terrifying if my hotplate had managed to melt my key!

      Olivia- I am sad it is over, thanks for introducing it to me. Glad to see you can still read my blog through your poorly gastro pain x

  3. I love a good back story. Here's to Bertha!

    1. Oh Bertha, why did you waste your little cockney heart on Monsieur Ananas???