five!!!!!!!!

Week five....I really cannot believe I am half way through my stay here. I swear the time goes more quickly here than in England...okay...so I don’t want to think about going home...I’ll think about it tomorrow...(HAHAHA!!) dons...déjà... spent most of it in the studio typing up last weeks blog and writing emails pour people. Met Chris for late afternoon...had half of our dinner, (cause it took too long to cook), and then met Mary, Liz, Hannah, Max, (le garcon qui Mary met a le weekend), and Max’s friend...we then all walked to meet Tatiana et her friend a la cinema...we all qued to see the film “ch’tis”...I really surprised myself, cause I actually understood most of it! It was absolutely hilarious! –I think Chris picked the wrong place to sit, (in between Tatiana et moi), parce que I don’t think either of us stopped laughing the whole way through!! (poor Chris(toff)!!!!)

So....Tuesday...salut! We all met a la art school quite early for a crit avec the second years. None of us had had time to have breakfast so we decided it would be a bonne idea to go to a sushi restaurant for lunch...(as you do)...it was sooooooooooooo good!!! All the waiters thought I was Spanish, (I didn’t realise the Spanish spoke a French/English mix!!??) Anyway...Hannah et lizz went off pour using the internet...Mary et moi looked around a couple of new shops...and decided to go home, as it was chucking it down. Liz joined us a peu later, and i made them some coffee...They left and Chris arrived shortly after...the plan was to meet everyone at boite a biere, as a guy called Michael was leaving for the south...This would be the first evening i have gone out on my own with just the frenchies!! Anyway...Pierre and some others are here! Turns out Michael is the waiter from the Irish pub!! WHAT a coincidence!! Soon, everyone is here...and we spend the evening singing, playing pool and avoiding Cederic, (the guy who Chris stripes, mary, Liz et moi met in the second week!!) –who happens to be more than a little bit strange...apparently, he doesn’t know anyone...he just wonders around the pub nearly everyday of the week chatting to random people. Hummmm....so...the night ends with Chris pretending to give Michael un pipe pour le sake of the camera, and Michael pulling his trousers down displaying what can only be described as the dark side of the moon!!!

Wednesday... I am slightly ashamed to say I did absolutely rien déjà....I cleaned the flat a little, (aka. Picked last nights clothes off of the floor and scraped the cement mix, otherwise known as rice, off of the pan. Yum. Alors...Mary text me and said that Kevin was having a party and would we like to go...in all honesty it was one of the last things I wanted to do...watching a film and going to bed early had actually been le plan...but hey...on y va...donc...Kevin asked us to bring some drink...we turned up with beers...a bottle of wine...coke, (cola), and a very large bottle of rum...Liz, mary et moi arrive chez Kevin’s at about eleven...everyone has been drinking since about 8pm...So we feel English and sober...after kissing everyone twice in the room, (about two hours later) we sit down and make some drinks! Liz and Mary run home to get the guitar, and I entertain Tatu, (Simons friend), by singing...(on demand I add!!) by faux pas, I find the room goes silent as I’m singing Peggy lee’s ‘fever’...slightly embarrassing...anyhow...I spend the next half an hour performing different songs for my rather increasingly drunk French audience. Lizz et Mary return and we all sing wagon wheel. (oh...we’ve changed our name to le laundrettes...catchy eh!!??) donc...Simon moi, et others take to the dance floor, aka. Kevin’s alcohol soaked floorboards) and dance to swing music. What. A. Laugh. Simon et Kev go out for some more champagne...(the rum is nearly gone), and Lizz, tatu, donna, (one of the punk lesbians) et moi, end up singing ‘Claire de la Lune’ in the kitchen...I learn a new way to say ‘cheers’... a la tete, au cul, au cul et que ca frotte. By 2.30am, we’ve invented a new type of swing dance where the guys take it in turns to swing their partner, and catches whoever may be falling over. By now, the rum is gone and we end the night singing frère Jacques. Oh dear.

So....Thursday....i spend the morning drinking copious amounts of water.....head to Flunch for some hard core veg. (yes, including chips!!!-however....id like to add these are le first chips I’ve had since I go here!! soo...yeah...) I met up with Chris (Toff) and we had Flunch together. Lunch finished...a new mission of finding credit for my phone began...We got stopped by a Rasta man who said he had invented the new type of music....promoting peace via a mix of rap and rock. Hummm....can it be possible?! Anyway...we were stuck chatting with our peace promoter for about five minutes, and then another fifteen minutes when he realised I was English. After retrieving my stick I keep in my mary poppings bag, we beat him off and run to the cathedral for refuge –and to pray for our sins. Aka. “please make this head ache go away”. Anyway...Finish the afternoon watching “full metal Jacket”...wait for it...in French. I think that i now know every French swear word under the sun. Oh...I completely forgot to mention... (Mum, you’re not going to BELIEVE this)...the French don’t name their cats!!! WHAT is that all about?! That’s INSANE!! How do they tell each other apart?! I mean...that’s like having a baby and not naming it. Okay...perhaps I’m being a little over dramatic...but STILL!!! Poor little chats!

Donc...today is Friday...obviously....I meet Liz and Mary at 11am by ‘the fountain’ and we march to the station....we’re off to Paris pour la weekend!!! Donc...we have actually booked a hotel in Saint Denis...the north east of Paris centre...so we arrive a la gare saint lazare and are ambushed by French women in head scarf’s and long skirts thrusting prewritten cards in our faces screaming “SPEAK IIINNNNGLISH”. Ah...non-desole. Anyway...we fight our way on the tubes to saint Denis. After playing the game “follow the tram lines” we look for someone suitable, (aka. Not drunk/tipsy or dead) to ask for directions. We settle for a flower shop, which ironically turns out to be shop for funeral accessories. The lady in there is really nice and directs us to our ‘Hotel’...we walk for about another tens mins and find our ‘hotel’...apparently, there was a typo error on the internet site...they needed an ‘s’ somewhere in that ‘hotel’. No wonder it was only ten Euros a night (we all shared le meme room!) Anyhow...the room stank of stale cigarettes...so I lit up a joss stick in a blue peter moment of ‘heres on I prepared earlier’. Oh yes. Anyway...we get changed and head back into the city to meet Mary’s friend Laura et Jenny Anyway...we make our way over to la louve...I haven’t been to the loo in about three days now so I’m starting to look a little pregnant...donc we find a good place to sit inside the museum...er..the floor and have an in depth conversation about what type of adults one could expect to be sitting on the floor...it takes us a good half an hour to realise that we ARE in fact adults AND are sitting on the floor....perhaps making the whole conversation pointless. Anyhow...Laura arrives and we head, (and I waddle), towards the Mona Lisa. I swear that smile was mocking me...a painting doesn’t need to go to the toilet. Alors. We find a nice looking japonas restaurant and are practically dragged in by the owner. The meal is amazing...but my baby has gained a few pounds. We walk/run through Saint Denis ready to hit the ground at the sound of gun fire. Seriously...S.C.A.R.Y!!!! We arrive at the hostel at about 1.30am and are confronted by a scary looking man in a leather jacket, (probably hiding his 44 magnum) and a German Sheppard, (dog)...security. We get into our rooms and hop into bed...good(??)night. I can’t believe the French don’t name their cats!

Ok...let Saturday commence...we arrive in the city centre and walk to the Eiffel tower...the girls have never climbed it before so they are quite excited, (in the English sense). Donc...we sit in the gardens pretending to be French, trying to guess what nationality other people are...and decide on what we shall call my baby when she finally arrives. Yes...it’s a girl. And then que for about a million years...we have to take the lift up...as the stairs are barricaded off. Anyway...we take loads of pictures and witness a man proposing to his now wife. (She said yes). And walked all the way down to the bottom. We took a coffee on le champs d’elysee and decided to go to the cinema to see 10 000bc. Turns out its in English...anyway...its okay...although the endings too ‘nice’ for my liking...a woman gets shot in the back with an arrow...she should die...right?? Anyway...she comes back to life to be reunited with her lover, as they are destined to be together until they die some 50 years later....probably through being eaten by a giant polar bear...or trampled on by four legged demons. Anyway...we catch a tube to Saint Denis...Mary exclaims “Shite...we forgot the laxatives!” a few people look up. Thanks Mary...she tells me not to worry, as no one will understand as we’re in another country. (yes Mary, where the French for laxative is laxitif –which happens to be pronounced more or less the same way...oh...and a masculine word, by the way...) Anyway...we arrive a la Saint Denis...its dark...we get off at the right stop, but walk In the wrong direction. Its raining (nameless) chats and dogs...so we cannot get our oversized tourist maps out...we are desperate...alors we head into the nearest building...MacDonald’s...yes...told you...desperate! Anyway...the girls have something to eat, and I go through the whole battle of being really hungry, but full at the same time. Nice. Anyway...we find a route home...10 mins later we are on the right path...it starts to rain even harder...we start to swim against the current, dodging all the mammoth sized dog turds, dead people and dodgy looking men slowing down in dodgy looking cars. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse...right? Wrong...my bag handles snap...just as a car skids past creating what can only be described as a Bridget Jones moment as the tidal wave crashes over my head...I want to be back in Rouen...We make it back to the hostel, the girls have a hot choc...whilst I rock in the corner wondering what the third ‘bad’ thing will be and when my baby will arrive....

Sssshhhh!! It’s about 1am and I feel the need, the need to pee!! Donc...I tiptoe down the corridor, (don’t you just love communal toilets), I reach the point where the four corridors co-inside and suddenly and man strides passed. He stops and says something to me...I say non, desole...and turn to move. He follows me, I move quickly and he speeds up!! ARGH! I break into a sprint and run into the nearest open door. A toilet. I can hear him waiting outside. EEEEKK! I busy myself by reading the notice on the toilet door...about how and when the toilets are cleaned...in all the five languages...the interior of the toilet is all bright colours and plastic...oh...and automatic...and self cleaning...so when ever you move slightly whilst taking a pee the loo flushes, soap squirts out of the sink and the dryer goes off. There is an ashtray built into the door...so you can pee AND smoke at the same time. (only in France). Anyway...its been about ten mins...I am too scared to pee...but I hear footsteps walking away from the toilet...I get the security number of our room in my head...trois, deux, un...I burst out of le toilet and run down the corridor...not looking behind me..I am aware that someone is approaching...but I open the door and slam it shut...the girls wake up...and I tell them briefly what happens...although they are both still half asleep. Apparently the German Sheppard/security does not protect from the weirdo’s who are actually staying in the hostel. Great.


So...Sunday...the girls both tell me they had strange dreams about me bursting into the room after being followed...not a dream girls. Anyway...we are out of the hostel by midday...good riddance. Donc...we catch the tube outta Saint Denis to meet Laura and Jenny at Piggal station to go to have a coffee at the Amilee cafe. We laugh at all the sex shops...contemplate buying the local Sunday newspaper, which came (HA) with a free vibrator, of course....Hummm...think ill just stick with my Hot choc and baby inducing medicine from one of the millions of pharmacies. Tasty. By now, I am actually sick of Paris, and just want to be back at Rouen. We catch our train and I spend about an hour reading ‘p.s. I love you’ aloud to Mary, and our entire carriage. Although they weren’t smiling, I know they all appreciated it...that’ll teach ‘em for not naming their cats...Anyway...it’s good to be home!