I’ve been living in France for nearly 6 months and I love it and hate it simultaneously. If I could pick up every inch of my life and plunk it down in France, I would. I miss my family, my friends, my dog, my boyfriend and most importantly Heinz tomato soup. If all that existed here, in amongst the glorious weather and even better food, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect existence. However, that’s an impossible dream and one I won’t waste time on.
The great news is, for the most part, I’m having a wonderful time and can actually speak French which was kind of the main goal. Whilst living here I have also learned several relatively unimportant things:
- I’d look ridiculous riding a bike, carrying my baguette in the front basket.
- French people outside of Paris are actually nice.
- A lot of people outside France, struggle to digest that Paris is not the only place in France.
- The French find it perfectly acceptable to leave their dog shit lying everywhere-returning home without dog poo smothered shoes is unheard of.
- Marseille is one of the filthiest places I’ve ever been but I like it. It’s got a certain scummy, soiled something.
- If I didn’t think it was completely unacceptable, I’d eat 3 tarte au citrons a day.
- I’m a ‘bombe’, according to the 10 year old children at my school. This is apparently a very sexual term in French, not sure how I feel about this.
- My landlord’s cat would like to move in with me despite my roommate throwing water on her. She eats mice on my doorstep. The cat, not my roommate.
- Hating the same person is the foundation of a beautiful friendship.
- Italians are kind but also fabulously fiery.
- Never trust a French train, you will only end up disappointed.
- I hate teaching.
- Children are horrible and I am glad I will never be one again.
- There’s no bread, like French bread.
- Last year I was on 13 flights, how unlucky.
- I like Camembert cheese, heated in the oven so it’s all gooey and you can dip baguette in.
- It’s not ok to eat an entire baguette with Camembert alone. Vomitting will follow.
- I thought Frankfurt airport was called Frankfurter, like the sausage.
- Mosquitos are the devil.
- Finally, although not so unimportant, I am the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
Everyone here, in France, walks about with a baguette under one arm. It’s honestly not just a stereotype, the French really do love a good baguette.
What I can’t work out is how they make it from la boulangerie to their house without ravenously ripping off chunks of it on the way.
I live a mere 5 minutes away from the bakery and by the time I step foot through my front door, all I’m left with is a pile of crumbs down my front, something that can prove irritating when you’re planning on making a sandwich.
As soon as that sweet smell of fresh bread hits me, I can’t contain myself, my mouth engulfs nearly half the baguette in one bite and I don’t regret it for a second.
In future I must remind myself of my impulsive baguette munching and buy two instead of one.
Also if you didn’t read the title of this post and immediately envisage two French people using their baguettes as batons and fighting each other like gladiators, are you OK?
I googled how to start a blog and it said, ‘find your niche’. I have no niche.
I have small interests in many things, nothing that I could rant for hours about and nothing that takes over my life. I’ve got my fingers in several different honey pots. And I think that’s ok. I don’t obsess over any one thing and my wonderfully sticky fingers like it.
Does that make me boring? I think not. I like to rant about things that I’m sure everyone thinks about. Surely that’s grounds for people to take an interest in what I say and maybe laugh at the familiarity of situations they so often find themselves in.
If you have a niche, I salute you. If you don’t, welcome to the club of nonsensical ramblers. We are the forgotten voices who speak of nothing in great detail but speak of many things that cause laughter, smiles and glorious head nods.
So to answer my own question, no I am not boring, I am simply niche-less and proud!
My iPhone keeps reminding me of a new update that it’s clearly desperate for me to download.
Three reminders later, I finally drag myself away from Instagram, Facebook and Twitter (always in that order) and the bastard tells me I’ve not got enough memory to update.
I must delete some apps to make room for an update I really don’t need, that probably will make no difference to my life. In fact, last time I updated, it messed up all my emojis. Don’t get me wrong I was grateful for the long overdue new guys flung in there but seriously, who was the smart arse that thought, “I know! Why not jumble them all up just to fuck with everyone”. It’s been well over 6 months and I still have no bloody idea where the spanner is, not something I use frequently but that’s besides the point!
I sacrifice YouTube, Temple Run and a few photos but that’s still not good enough. I’d love to delete those stupid Apps that you can’t delete, everyone hates them. ‘Tips’ here’s a good tip…go fuck yourself and stop telling me to update my phone!
Everytime my phone asks me if I’d like to update I now find myself shouting, manically,“Oooh you’d like that wouldn’t you?!”
After bidding farewell to eBay, Snapchat and Facebook Messenger, I can finally update. Cue half an hour of staring at the smug little apple, unbearably pleased with itself.
When my all too familiar screen finally reappears, I spend the next half hour reinstating my apps and searching for changes. I see no change whatsoever. Fuck you Apple.