This was the week that was

So this was the week where Cecilia and Nicolas Sarkozy got divorced, I had my knees x-rayed, I was forced to walk across vast tracts of Paris due to the transport strike and England lost the Rugby World Cup Final. I don’t really have much to say about the first and last point, apart from: ‘Thank some divine deity that that is all over.’

As for the x-ray fiasco, well the fact that a month after I went arse over tit in those gorgeous but extremely inconvenient shoes and still can’t kneel down meant that I was sent merrily to my nearest ‘Centre de Radiologie’. The knees were duly x-rayed and as I suspected nada was broken. My final diagnosis was to give up praying!

And so to the Transport Strike. Now in reality I like walking across vast tracts of Paris. I love looking at the ivy glowing scarlet as the sun shines through the leaves. I love peering through the windows of the Tibetan tea shops and reminiscing about how I watched Liverpool beat West Ham in that pub. I thoroughly enjoy walking across Paris when I CHOOSE to do so, NOT, when I am forced to do so by the transport unions. I don’t like not knowing how I am going to get home from work, or considering not trekking across town to meet my friend who has flown in from Madrid, or missing the surprise element of my colleague’s surprise birthday party because I couldn’t get a taxi for love nor money and then got stuck on a metro full of tossers (otherwise known as England Rugby fans). I am particularly pissed off that the one day Transport strike stretched into THREE. I am also slightly miffed that the Transport Unions are beginning to make me question whether unions are a good thing and whether Transport workers should have the privilege of retiring at 50 whereas the rest of us face the prospect of never retiring because by the time we get really old the Government won’t have any money left to pay our pensions. In fact, I don’t even like thinking about getting really old because in my dreams I will win the lottery and buy a flat and become a hermit (who occasionally lunches) and writes all the time. I’ll have a big lounge for cool parties, a really comfy bedroom, a big bathroom and maybe a little garden. Oh and there will be a study too, with a lot of blank walls where I can stick my post-its. You see I have spent a lot of time nurturing this dream and the fact that the transport unions have burst my bubble is extremely unkind of them.

Here are some photos from last week’s Fete de la Vendange. I walked to that; I walked up the extremely steep hill gladly; twice.

Phoktober 15^th

This guy was providing entertainment before I even got to the Fete.

Phoktober 16^th

There were all sorts at this Fete.

Phoktober 17^th

Like I said all sorts.

Phoktober 18^th

And lots of entertainment.

Phoktober 19^th

And then these started showing up all over the place.

Phoktober 20^th

Phoktober 21^st

A Jolly Good Moan

I got tagged by Jude at Jude’s Writing Corner to do this meme. It’s all about moaning, so who am I to turn down this opportunity.

5 people who will be annoyed that I tagged them.. mmm:

Well, to be honest I don’t really want to annoy people, so shall we say that if there’s something you’re annoyed about and you want to have a go, then please feel free to moan.

4 things to go into room 101 and be removed forever from the face of this earth:
Starbucks (that one was a bit obvious wasn’t it?)

Ligne 13 (who needs to get to work?)

Dubya Dumb Bush

Money

3 things that people do that make me want to shake them violently are:
Amble down the street very slowly and then without warning stop suddenly so that you canon into the back of them

Wear fur coats. What’s wrong with polyester? It doesn’t feel slimy and you get the added effect of looking like you’ve recently had your hand on a Van der Graf generator.

Anyone can make a mistake, the second time you roll your eyes and think oh well they’ll learn, the third time you bite your lip, but the fourth time, well you know you want to shake them and knock on that thick head of theirs and shout: ‘Hello? Is anyone In?’

2 things that I find myself moaning about are:
Work

The state of the world

1 thing the above answers tell me about myself is:
That if we lived in a world without work, money or dumb people I would be a much happier person.

Not a moan (really)

This post is not going to be a moan. I started moaning on Thursday and it just grew and grew until it became a Woolly Mammoth that threatened to stamp on me. And then I went to Castorama and calm was restored momentarily as I wandered down the small hand tools aisle more times than was strictly necessary. In keeping with Saturday being eye-candy day, I may make this particular aisle a regular part of my Saturday routine.

So I decided not to moan, which is a bit difficult because all these things happened this week:

• I had a headache all week
• My back was threatening to join in with the headache
• My idea of buying a wreck in Brittany and rebuilding it was nixed by the MEN (and Jane, who jumped up and down all over my poor trampled idea the next day just in case I was thinking of reviving it!) (But after the trip to Casto yesterday I did momentarily consider it again... ‘All those Saturdays in the power tools aisle’ I thought then realised ‘All those Saturdays not writing’ and forgot it again)
• I’ve already neglected my poor adopted lion by not naming or writing it a poem, but I’m working on it.
• Some of my colleagues really let me down this week in a week when I really needed their help
• Liverpool lost the Champion’s League Final
• I wore a stripy green and yellow top the next day to cheer myself up and people took the piss all day:
• I left my jacket on the bus
• My red notebook hasn’t been out of my bag for weeks

And it’s that last one that’s really getting me down. So instead of writing this post that’s what I should really be doing.

And my Tax Return; mustn’t forget to do that!