I think I've complained before about people going about in winter clothes when it's boiling outside; I just don't understand why anyone would rather be sweating away in black or navy jeans, boots, blazers and scarves instead of cool and bronzing in shorts and a floral top! So why oh why did I go to the Jardin de Luxembourg this afternoon wearing skinny black jeans? This city is rubbing off on me.
While I was reading 'Marie Antoinette- The Journey' in the hot park I came across a nice sentence, describing the English's "complicated relationship with the French in which their yearning for the French way of life had to be accompanied by a paradoxical contempt for these frivolous people". I'm not saying this is my feeling (does sweating to death in the name of fashion count as frivolous?) and I'm Scottish anyway- but it did ring a bell with various things we have all said, usually late at night after a wine or two, that aren't completely complimentary about the native citizens of Paris. (What was it again, you'd wish they'd all go away and let us enjoy this country in peace? Something like that?! Wasn't me.)
I think the fact they don't let you sit on the grass in half of the parks is a pretty good reason to get annoyed. But apart from that Paris does do parks well. At Luxembourg I noticed they've added palm trees to the landscape, and other trees in perfect spheres in little painted wooden boxes. This makes me think that they actually did plant all the flowers overnight that time earlier in the year when I thought it was just a wonderful coincidence that they all grew and bloomed on the same day.
Last night Laura and I watched The Shining, and now horrific images of the old (dead, never mind old) mouldy lady keep coming back and making me nauseous. It was so much scarier this time, the second time I've seen it. Last time I must have either not been paying any attention, or my big magic memory rubber has erased it, as it was clearly a traumatic experience. But, now I'm ready for the Kubrick expo at Cinemateque Francaise, and if it's anything like the last one it'll be fab- it was about blondes and brunettes and the role of hair in films. They had a massive ponytail draped from the top of the building all the way to the entrance!
Trying my best not to dread working tomorrow and Sunday, even as I read a group facebook message chatting about where to sunbathe and swim and drink in the 26 degree sun tomorrow... Why did I think it'd be ok to take a job where my days off are different to the rest of the world? I spend way too much time on my own these days. And seeing as the worst insult I could think of while a friend was hacking someone's facebook was "smells of poo", too much time with children as well.
A family has just moved into the flat underneath the ones I work for, and they had this amazing ladder-pulley-machine that they put all the boxes off the van and the furniture on and towed them right up to their third-floor windows! Very exciting and clever. They had to cut down half a tree to get the machine into the courtyard though, which was less clever, and a bit noisy.
I have been trying to send speculative job applications off, but am still being thwarted by Paypal who are now refusing to believe I'm me and won't until I answer my home phone number, in Redpath, where I'm not going to be until July. Hmm. And my internet isn't working. I have spent a lot of time in Wos bar this week, so I'll just leave it for today and see if it works long enough to send emails, and in fact upload blog posts, tomorrow.
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