Day 2 of being on holiday on my own and things have taken a turn for the worse- whoever is staying in the apartment above mine has decided that tonight they are going to 'rock out' to very, very loud music.
At first I thought they were practicing the guitar but after twenty minutes of strange, discordant guitar sounds, a jazzy piano kicked in... from this I can deduce they are listening to 'Prog rock', the most selfish, disgusting type of music in existence. (It's selfish because musicians get to play utter shit for hours and hours, the musical equivalent of making all your friends and family buy a ticket to your one-woman show entitled: 'Reading Aloud Autobiographical Essays I Have Written Exploring How I View Myself and How I Think Others View Me.'*) It's disgusting because... have you ever heard Prog Rock?
Trying to counter-attack them by playing the 'Mala in Cuba' album very loudly has made me feel a bit scared and freaked out. I keep thinking I can hear knocking underneath the music but pretty sure it is just some crap drumming on their hour-long Prog rock piece of horror.
For fuck's sake.
So far the 'holiday' has actually been ok- yesterday I even made a friend! She's called Chloe and she's the au pair for the distant cousin (or something) of the family I work for. I met her on the beach yesterday and we got on really well straight away- she's also applying for drama school this year and she's from Leeds. Last night we went out for a drink when she finished work so I didn't spent the night wandering up and down the beach, wailing, like the selkie who had to marry a fisherman and live on land...
The bad news is that Chloe went back to Paris today- she'd already been here for a week. If only we were here at the same time!
Now I'm alone again. Tonight I went to the supermarket to buy wine and chocolate... made dinner and read my book... then walked along the beach as the sun was setting...
It was all very romantic and actually quite a nice way to spend the evening but then I got home and realised it was still only 10pm. Then the 'Prog rockers' kicked off their evening upstairs.
The novelty of being on holiday alone has officially worn off.
Apart from being a lonely, friendless freak, I don't think this week will actually be too bad. (Touch wood.) The dad's not here yet and the mum's been really nice- yesterday she bought me waffles with Nutella at gouter time and today she bought me a crepe. It's been really laid back- I've just been playing on the beach with the three year old each afternoon, then when he goes home for his bath at about 6.30pm, I'm free. (Chloe couldn't believe how good my hours were, she's basically been working all day, every day.)
ARRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. CAN STILL HEAR THEIR MUSIC!!!
On the plus side it's been really hot and sunny here, I even got a couple of hours sunbathing today when the toddler had his nap.
On the down side, I arrived wearing jeans, boots and a massive coat, because it was raining when I left Paris. I haven't brought many suitable clothes with me but France is the only place you can get away with sitting on the beach in black jeans and a black jumper while people walk past you in bikinis. Maybe people will just think I am very, very Parisian...
Sigh. It was so fun when Olivia was here- going to restaurants, seeing fireworks and firemen throw firecrackers at people in the street, being drunk in the sea, falling over and pretending to be asleep while the au pair dad sang to us in the car and made us want to die a little bit- and this week the weather and my hours are even better than last time. It felt like a little holiday last time. Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside! If I had a friend here they could sunbathe on the beach all day while I play with the toddler, then we'd have a few hours to do something in the afternoon and later we'd have all evening to go out.
Oh I do like to be beside the sea! The little studio I'm staying in is actually on the beach, but my window is on the side of the building so I have to stick my head out of the window to see the sea. It's weird to think England is out there...
If only they did fish and ships in France.
I really want to buy mussels and cook them but can't be arsed doing it on my own, will probably fuck them up somehow or buy way too many and end up eating them all (I still don't understand why you have to buy mussels by the litre- they live in liquid, they're not actually liquid).
*That's not what my blog is... is it?