One big day...

So finally the American people have done something right...

To all my American readers I apologise, but it has to be said, and so I said it... But those of you that know me and have had political discussions with me recently may, or may not remember that I was pro-McCain... This is true. But that was before. I was pro-McCain, before Pitbull Palin scared the liberal European out of me. Before he stated that the economic fundamentals were doing fine... Before I thought through everything... Why was I pro-McCain? I am still scared by someone with the most extreme voting record in the Senate... but less than I am scared by Palin... I am certainly still worried about a Democratic House, Senate and President all at once... Some balance of power is always a good thing...

But now he is in. Obama is the first black American president, and it is for this reason that I changed my mind in the last few days.... The amount of good that in itself will do for the image of America, and therefore for the image of the Western world, and particularly us Brits (let's face it we are always lumped in with the Americans and normally for good reason) means that it has to be a good thing that Barack Obama has been elected... I just hope that it turns out to be that the hope for change is not misplaced...

Now to the really big events of the day... I got my first paycheck from my new job and it is by far better than I could ever have imagined... So some good news, we might be able to pay for a nice honeymoon after all... The restaurant industry is seriously hard work, and in most places I have ever worked, seriously under-paid, so it makes a great change to feel appreciated (my direct boss told me that I deserved the pay and was doing really well; rather unusual in France, positive re-enforcement is not something taught in French management...) and well-paid.

Not only did I get my first paycheck, but I also got my contract, which as most people in France will tell you, means that I cannot really get fired... So finally some stability and some money...

That was the good news... The bad news may never happen, so for the moment I will leave it out, but suffice to say that some uncertainty has popped up in another area, so long live instability!!!

La vie is belle too...

After my first foray into the joys of mobile blogging this afternoon I was inspired and decided to try and take some photos of the joys of Paris on a sunny Sunday afternoon to share with you all...


There was of course, the string section playing Bizet...

This was then followed by the joys of the fountains, foie gras and champagne, not to mention the all important third F, friends, and my F herself... For the first time on this blog, you will see pictures, of me, and DF, not to mention P and C...

We also had a lovely time, listening to buskers of varying types: opera, classical, just strange, or maybe drunk... The strangest though had to be the man tap-dancing, in the street, for money, as it was getting dark... Unfortunately I
was unable to take a video of this most fabulous of events as I was in a hurry to get to work on time, but he was really very good and it made a change from all those boring violins... Just kidding they were great too...

So, as promised, some more photos, if you hadn't guessed that is DF on le pont des arts, the pedestrian footbridge across the Seine where we consumed out little picnic... For more information on this lovely sunny Sunday afternoon feel free to read DF's blog...

Here is P enjoying the champagne... And C enjoying a
cigarette... Yes there are still smokers in Paris, despite the pesky smoking ban...
















And dahlings, despite all my promises, you are going to have to wait for the photo of me, and trust that, that was me...

La vie est belle...

Sometimes life seems unbearably difficult, we complain, we moan, about everything and about nothing. Then, there are other times, this being one of them, when one looks around and all is right with the world...

I am sitting in the October sunshine, sipping a coffee on a Sunday afternoon, listening to a full string orchestra playing George Bizet's Carmen in the middle of the most beautiful city in the world. On top of which I am waiting for my fabulous friend P who is over for a couple of days from Kinshasa in the Congo, and my Dahling Fiancée.

In short, life is good...

Until next time dahlings, that was me, from my cell, on the streets of Paris...

Some old writing from me... In other words, I am feeling lazy...

This is an autobiography, limited to 600 words, written about three years ago for a writing competition that I obviously didn't win...

It is a little out of date, but hey, I have been busy with work and so I thought that it would be better to post this than nothing, and you will learn some things about me you wouldn't otherwise know... And PS, the girl is you A, not you C, and now I am very happily engaged to be married to my dahling F...



Sitting in a bare classroom with ten 10-year-old boys looking to shoot me down. This is where the test really started: Sunday school.

Whoever said that public speaking is hard certainly wasn't lying, add in a dash of sour souvenirs from an all-male education, a twist of poor preparation and shake it all together over a foreign language and you begin to understand what I was feeling when confronted with these ten small boys waiting for their new Sunday school teacher to make a mistake. I was 18, I was working in a small Baptist church in the suburbs south of Paris in a place called Massy as a church worker. Why? Well, it was a way to open my adult life, and the best option open to me, so I found myself teaching boys the story of Jonah, feeling a certain empathy for the guy that gets swallowed by a whale only to be spat out a few days later.

Then there was university... I went to Leeds, I studied, I left, and found myself once again in Paris, this time via Granada, Spain.

In Paris I endeavoured to pursue my dream of one day owning a restaurant and proceeded to work in a well-heeled wine bar and bistro where I developed my already highly tuned tastes for the finer things in this world. Perhaps a product of my suburban public school education, which I dismissed at the time as snobbish, elitist and completely alien to me, probably more out of contempt for my classmates than out of a true belief in the ideals these principles represented.

So it was I not only came to learn the difference between good and bad champagne, but also develop a taste for the good stuff, sipping it in pleasant bars in the company of bourgeois cosmopolitan model types. So I worked hard and I partied hard for two years until the realisation that I was not going to own my restaurant simply by working as a waiter, no matter how good I was. It is the eternal myth of waiters, the thing that keeps many professionals in the restaurant business, putting up with poor pay, and even worse hours: the myth that one day they will be boss, one day all this will be theirs. It won't.

I left the wine bar, I moved on, I decided that I would try something new: I wrote. Another cliche in Paris. To add to the cliches I then fell in love. Not a simple affair of boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy gets girl (if anyone has ever heard of a simple affair of this type I would love to hear it), but the slightly more complex, boy meets girl, boy becomes best friend with girl, boy falls for girl, girl is not interested in that way.

So after some painful times, some therapy, a lot of fun and a lot of growing up, I decided that a new life-plan was required, one that involved being responsible, and a little bit adult, so I came to the conclusion that it was time to go back to London for an extended visit.

The tears welled as the realisation hit. I was leaving and there was nothing I could do about it. I was leaving, and when I came back things were not going to be the same. It didn't matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, things could not and would not be the same. To start with I was going to have to get a job!



Until next time dahlings, (when I promise to give you something original) that was me...

Work work work...

I seem to have had my two days off and not known where they went... The first one was eaten up with sleeping, errands and then going out for dinner with my beloved fiancée... We had the first fondue of the season at our favourite little place in the fifth arrondisement. Check it out it is very cute, highly romantic for all you couple out there, not expensive for all those people who like a bargain, and above all very tasty... The only problem with it, is, that they do not do dessert... But otherwise a great little restaurant, and when I say little it really is very small, so reserve... It is called Heureux comme Alexandre. The link is not to their own site, as they don't seem to have one.

Though we should be budgeting we seem to have gone out for food quite a few times regularly, just last night we were at another of our favourites: Juveniles a winebar and restaurant with a fabulous atmosphere, though we would say that, we have contacts, but I think that the atmosphere is great even if you are not regular... It is just one of those really comfortable restaurants...

Long and short of it we have been having a lovely time going out with friends and having drinks... the usual, but unfortunately not resting, which, with the new job I should have been...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

PS the title is ironic for those of you who are a bit slow...

We can all breathe easy...

So, congress got the job done and everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. My new job is at place de la bourse in, or Stock Exchange square in English, and everyone this evening was must more relaxed, even if it is just a restaurant, we are paid on percentage, and the spending habits of the traders directly affects us!

It is an interesting experience to work in such a typically Parisian restaurant, with the bow-tie, waistcoat, apron, the crazy running around, with everyone knowing exactly what their job is. Tonight I served, in my area, 30 people dinner, which was not even that much... I am new and still getting the hang of the system. The really amazing thing about these restaurants is the sheer number of people who eat there, be it regularly, be it just once in their lives. To think that it has been open since 1876, probably pretty much everyday except Christmas, and that on average, at least now, it serves 200 people a day... well you do the maths, but that is a lot of meals served. Over 130 years, at least 360 days a year, and probably at least 100 people a day, once averaged out. That is a lot of steak frites!

So, as I was saying we are all very happy that Congress finally got round to voting through the bailout plan and that hopefully everything will calm down a little next week. Though, looking at this last week, I doubt it!

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

The End of the World as we know it...

Is it or isn't it the next Great Depression? If you look at the figures then we are, to put it simply, no where near the levels of unemployment or drops in housing prices seen even in the first year of the Great Depression, but it is certainly one of the most precarious situations that the modern banking system (in all its complex incomprehensibility) has seen.

Did the banking system get itself into this mess? Yes is the simple answer. But certain factors are not helping. One is the relatively new accounting system of assets appearing on accounts at market values, which means that, as the assets go down in value, the bank is obliged to sell more of the assets to get rid of the bad assets on the balance sheet, adding yet further to the slide in prices of these assets, making yet more firms sell, causing a further slide. The other problem is that no-one knows what the debt they are actually holding is... In the good old days, you went to your bank manager, whom you knew, you asked for a loan and if they trusted you to pay it back and liked your parents, or something like that, then you got one, and if they didn't then you didn't... This meant that if you defaulted, then the bank manager could come and speak to you to find out what was happening... In the new system, no-one knows who they have leant money to, and therefore no-one knows what the chance of being paid back really is...

Everyone talks about these huge sums of money that we just can't understand, billions, trillions etc, but it is very unlikely that 100 percent of people in the American sub-prime market will default on their mortgages, in fact, if we are to remain realistic, even in a worst case scenario it is likely that at least half of these mortgages will be paid back...

So, what am I saying...? Basically that, though everyone is very worried about Congress "giving" Wall Street $700 billion it is very unlikely that, in the long run, it will cost that, and it is even feasible that it could prove to be a very profitable investment for the US taxpayer... So, as an interested party abroad, my message to Congress is simple, hurry up and ratify the "bail-out".

And, if you want a piece of escapism from all this doom and gloom you could do worse than watch the ridiculous, and very silly film (probably one of Audrey Hepburn's worst, but it is so bad it is good): Paris When it Sizzles... Obviously very close to my heart for many reasons, mainly, a love of the ridiculous, Audrey Hepburn and Paris...

Until next time dahlings, that was me (with a slightly different topic)...

Another fabulous day, another fabulous friend...

The weekend is once again over, and back to work I go. I have only one day left at the fabulous little restaurant Le Jardinier, and tonight, as a rather nice surprise I have a big group of friends coming for dinner. One of them, KC, is coming to Paris for just a couple of nights, visiting from the Philippines. We will not be seeing her again for quite a long time, maybe not before the wedding, so hopefully I will be able to spend some time with them all, though restaurants being what they are I imagine I will be lucky...

My new job, which I will be starting properly on Wednesday (no rest for the wicked...or something like that) is at Le Gallopin, a beautiful brasserie de luxe (pictured above) dating from 1876. It is classically parisian and will be very, very hard work, but worth it, and hopefully a pleasure to work in. I really don't feel like moving jobs again in the near future...!

Will let you know how it all pans out...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

Women are crazy...

I don't really have anything much more to say other than the title of this post, but let's be frank, they are...

I am not saying that men are comprehensible in any way whatsoever, but at least, as a general rule they are pretty simple. Their motivations are never particularly complicated. Women however... Well before I alienate my whole readership I will stop there, but let's just say that dearest F has been very bemusing for the past half hour.

She has been accusing me of stopping her blogging (by having music on in the background and talking to her) and of stealing her thing (blogging). This would all be well and good, but for the fact that it was her that encouraged me to start a blog as an outlet for my supposed talent in writing... It is true that she also told me I would be incapable of keeping it going consistently, which I have more or less proved her right in, but that isn't the point...

Just by posting this I will probably get in trouble, it is not like we are fighting about it, she is just being a little possessive... Looks like we need to get a new computer, or get one of our old ones fixed...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

Wedding responsibilities...

Future grooms, as a general rule, tend not to take a great deal of interest in the wedding that is being planned around them and are given limited responsibility. This may be justified, or may not, quite frankly this depends on the man. Most women though, are perfectly happy to leave the status quo in place and get on with things without too much consultation.

(I happen to be one of the most opinionated people I know and therefore don't necessarily let my darling F get on with things in the peace I am sure she somtimes yearns...)

But one of the things that remains the groom's responsibility is the Honeymoon. This is of course, no small responsibility... After all, everyone needs a good holiday after the stress of wedding planning (at least that is how I view the honeymoon... F and I have been living in sin for a year now.)

So, I am going to ask you all for help with suggestions for fabulous honeymoon locations, bearing in mind, budget (we are on one), we are starting in Europe, and our wedding is at the end of June. Please, please, please help...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

Merde Alors...

So, the new job, which was meant to offer the whole new lease of life to not only my finances but my career, sucks... This is to put it simply. The whole package was mis-represented to me... I am therefore going to be quitting sooner rather than later, though of course this means that I will be starting yet another new job... Oh joy!

One of the problems is that I actually really like my boss, and the restaurant is, as mentioned previously, lovely, but I simply cannot afford to do the hours they are expecting of me... I mean, I write my blog too little as it is...

Just to repeat myself, in case you didn't pick up on the point of this particular entry... Merde alors! It is with great pleasure, that finally, after many hours of editing (if you believe I have been at this for hours then you will believe anything...) I have come up with the title and theme. Not to mention the fact that I am getting to use a fabulous French phrase (and some astounding alliteration...) Look at me go, one would almost think that I could write...

Enough already.

Dahlings, until next time, that was me...

She was right... she normally is...

So, F was, as usual, right. (I am not sure that publicly admitting this, in front of whoever wishes to see, is a particularly good idea, but admit it I must...)

I am a horrible blogger, and readers (all 3 and a half of you) I most sincerely apologise.

Now that that is out of the way, onto more interesting matters... Firstly, as you may know if you read F's blog, I have a new job, at a very cute restaurant in 9th arrondisement so please feel free to come and visit me whenever any of you are in Paris. The restaurant is called Le Jardinier and as you will see on the site is fabulous, and all the more so now, as, yes, you guessed it... I now work there.

I started today and though it was very quiet I think that it is going to suit me very nicely, though we will see. This last year has shown me more than ever that I need to try and move away from the restaurant industry, and not particularly because I don't love it, as often I do, but more because I am growing up and I don't see a way of becoming the owner of somewhere in the next three to five years, particularly with the current "situation" in the world economy, and I don't want to be "that guy" who is still waiting tables at 40 because nothing else fell into his lap.

Other than that, wedding plans are starting to get going, and it is just a matter of time before we have to really try and tighten our belts, and start saving some serious money.... Hopefully!

Time I was in bed, but,

Until next time dahlings (which I promise will be sooner rather than later), that was me...

No Missiles for Me...

Put another way, I didn't get the very random job opportunity that came up. I work in the restaurant industry, but through a friend got an interview with a company that specialises in battlefield communications. The job was as a French speaking salesman. Anyway it didn't work out...

Nevermind, this is probably for the best, I am probably not cut out for spending my days hanging around with military types... I wouldn't even get to wear the uniform! But it has focused somewhat the idea that a change is a good idea and things have developed slightly in that, rather than focusing on the London or Paris question we have added another town to the equation... Brussels. Why not, there are lots of opportunities for people who speak more than one language, and there is lots of money because of the European Union and the cost of living is not as high. The one problem being that Brussels is famous for one thing - and I am not talking about serving mayonnaise with French fries, I actually quite like that - I am of course talking about the fact it is meant to be boring as, well, a very boring place... But I figure this could just mean that we spend less money...

So, the question is no longer, London or Paris? But more, is there a way we can move to Brussels and make some money?

It is time to stop resting on our laurels (if anyone can tell me the origins of this phrase I would love to know, I can't possible imagine resting on laurels being exactly comfortable) and get out there and make something happen. So, equally, if you know something that might be of use to us in our search or have interesting insights into Brussels, or Belgium in general, I would also love to hear from you.

Good night, and until next time dahlings, that was me...

PS A quick apology, of the public kind, to M and D... Sorry I didn't get to see you before you leave, and hopefully à bientôt...

A Bible quote...?

As you may be aware, the first few pieces of the puzzle of organising our wedding are starting to fall into place... But to the question of what next (for me, and therefore us) and it is possible that there may be some development on that front too. I recently had an interview with a firm that has nothing at all to do with my field of work, and for whom I would be very happy to work... This interview, or meeting, as it was not quite formal enough to be called an interview went reasonably well, and if it were to lead to something then it would lead, amongst other things, to me being based in London, which would of course answer the 'London or Paris' question. More importantly than that, it has shown me that with some strategic introductions then some kind of headway can be made, even without the perfect CV, which I certainly don't have... It has taught me that I need to make more use of the vast variety of people I have had the opportunity to meet and know in my life...

So, put simply, maybe I will move to London, or maybe not, that is not very important, what is important is that with some effort, and a little pushing then meetings can be set up which may open doors that would not be opened otherwise. I think that there is a Bible quotation in there somewhere, but I am not going to use it!

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

It has now been a week since F went away, and she is finally coming back on Monday, thank goodness. It is strange how I am much moodier when she isn't around. It has been an eventful week, what with my random job interview in a completely different sector of work... We will see if something comes of it... Not to mention some horrible days at work, but that happens, and probably has something to do with me and my mood... Then there was the plumbing issues... It was about time I suppose, it has been at least 7 months and we haven't had any issues, so, by French plumbing standards we did pretty well!

Friends make a lot of things better and of course it is great to hear that a bunch of people are coming back to Paris, be it for a couple of days like C and S, or be it for months like F (not my F) and A, who will make everything much more vibrant...

London or not London keeps rearing its head as an issue, just when I thought that we were staying, that work was settled and that we were here for the forseeable future, up comes the possibility once again of moving back to London, and the more I think about it the more I wonder if it might not be time for a major change of that sort, but again that could just be my mood talking...

Anyway, it is late, so good night, and

until next time dahlings, that was me...

I love Disney...

So, I have always loved Disney films, or at least since I was 19 or so... But recently I have got into them even more, maybe because I was always too grown up for them as a kid, or maybe because they have simply been getting funnier and funnier over the last few years... Think Pixar years plus one of my favourites so far, Enchanted... How can Disney taking the mickey out of Mickey - or something like that - not be funny?

Talking of Disney, I recently found out that one of the newest Disney films, Narnia: Prince Caspian, stars someone I went to school with, which is a little strange. I am not talking about someone who was just at the same school as me, but who was in the same year as me for my eight years of high school. Fair play to the guy and good luck to him, I am debating inviting him to be my friend on Facebook, but think it a little obvious, so won't.

Finally, talking of big breaks, which I wasn't exactly, but it is a tenuous link and I will use it... It may be my turn for one... Probably not, but you never know... If anything happens then I will let you know, and once the meeting is over I am sure that you will hear about it, even if it doesn't go well, because, quite frankly the whole situation is sufficiently unusual and out of the blue to be of interest...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

A rant...

So, girls, this one is directed at you! Well actually I hope for your sake that it isn't directed at you, but some of you girls may well be guilty...

What is it with not wearing a bra, when it is obviously necessary for the most part? I am not talking about those of you with small breasts who are under the age of thirty and are very pert, I am talking about those of you that are blessed with a chest of slightly larger dimensions and insist of being free and easy... I recently served a couple of ladies, and ladies they were in all but this... They were English, at least 55 (and I am probably being nice) both with unimpressive chests, nothing noteworthy, except that they both insisted on hanging low in a far too literal sense of the word. It is all very well if one is 25 or 30 and still quite pert, but after a certain age it just becomes indecent, and wrong, no matter how good your body is. It is not sexy please don't do it!!

Anyway I presume that my point has been made, please choose carefully if you decide to go bra-less, for the sake of those around you as well as for the future of your chest...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

PS I figured that pictures were unnecessary!

Time to procrastinate...

I should be studying, so, what am I doing... I am, as you may well know, trying to study to finally get my driving license, but instead am blogging, which means it is going very slowly... In order to blog more effectively I think that it is time for a glass of wine, though whether this will help my studying either is very debatable.

So, glass of wine now in hand, I can effectively continue... It is a while since I have given, you all some insight into my wonderful world, and honestly not a lot has changed, though today I did get told that I will probably be getting a temporary promotion. What, you may ask, does that mean? Well it is simple: since they can't find anyone better than me, or more suitable, they are giving me the job, but that doesn't mean that I am completely proficient, or what they are looking for, just that I am the best option, or perhaps, the only option for the moment.

Enough of that... Apart from things going slowly with the driving lessons, we are also coming up against a few problems planning for the wedding. I won't go into them in detail here, as most of you that read my blog probably read F's blog, and those of you who don't should. Other than that, I should also be re-writing my CV as it may well be the case that I have an interview or two coming up, though we shall see.

Whilst looking for a pretty picture of a wine glass I found something altogether more amusing: a wineglass holder for the bath courtesy of www.presentsdirect.com.

I think that I have procrastinated very well tonight and so I will leave you...

Until next time, dahlings, that was me...

Comings and goings....

It is that time of year again... People are leaving... It happens every year here in Paris, always around at the beginning of the summer, people leave. The first one to go this year is our dear friend S, who will admittedly be back every now and again to visit, but he has been around for quite a while now and will be dearly missed...

But to happier things, things at work are going well, I am finally getting somewhere in terms of learning to drive (yes I know, I am 27 and don't drive, but I grew up in big cities, what can I say?) and I am going to get a long weekend off in July... It has to be at least 5 or maybe even 6 months since I last had 3 days off in a row so it is really special, made all the more special by the fact I will be going to F's mum's wedding... Very pleased to have been invited as it is literally just 3 guests, so feel rather special.

Time for lunch,
so until next time dahlings, that was me...

Apologies...

So, to start, apologies for the lapse in blogging... As F says I am a bad blogger and am simply proving her right... But my excuse is this: the existential crisis talk was getting boring, if you wanted to read existential ponderings then you would be reading Sartre, not me, and so I wanted to wait until well after my birthday to write again...

So, here we are, I am now 27 and all is well with the world, or at least nothing horrible has befallen me since turning 27 and life seems to be continuing as normal... There was even talk today of the possibility of a promotion at some point in the not too distant future, so, fingers crossed...

All in all, a not bad start to this year as a 27 year old. Though I must admit I am starting to feel like a proper adult, now that I am beyond the mid-twenties, though I still act like a kid and plan on doing so at least until I have children of my own, and probably after that too...

Until next time dahlings, (which I promise will be sooner than this time...), that was me...

What next....?

It is that time of year again... My birthday, or should I say the days leading up to it, when I ask myself "what next?"

As each year passes I feel like I should have done so much more the year before, feel like I haven't acheived anything, and haven't got to where I wanted to... In essence I have a mini-mid-life crisis every year... Sad really.

At least I don't run off with a different woman each year, or buy myself a new car... (Maybe if I had the money for one I would, or for that matter if I could drive...)

Speaking of driving, I am currently studying for my theory test, which is a little strange as I am doing it here in France, which of course means that I am learning all about driving in a foreign language, as if it wasn't hard enough already...

Anyway, I will update you all on how my 27 year old crisis develops, and let you know if I suddenly find myself buying one of these...

Until next dahlings, that was me...

Don't you just love Sundays...

Sitting listening to ole blue eyes, thinking how fabulous a lovely Sunday afternoon can be...

We have just been for a lunch at our little local bistro/café which is called Le Faitout. The other bonus for us is that it is just 50 metres down the road.

So work last night was crazy, but in a good way, at least when it is busy I know that I am working for a reason, whereas when there is no-one around it is a little bit of a waste of my time, as we earn a percentage of the takings...

The family crisis continues quietly along, though everyone is gradually realising that there is not a lot that can be done and we will just have to let things take their course, which makes us all feel a little helpless, but what can you do about it...

We are now waiting for our friend D to come over for coffee, and then will spend the evening doing nothing much... Don't you just love Sundays?!

Anyway,

until next time dahlings, that was me...

Birthdays aren't all that bad after all...

Today I was treated to something I haven't done in a long time... shopping! I had forgotten what pleasure was to be found in going and finding something just fabulous in a shop and buying it, especially when it isn't you paying for it... There is something to be said for birthdays!!!!

Work remains kind of crazy, but that is OK, as I don't really care, I am even more focussed on just showing up and doing my job than I was before, as now I also have another form of income, or at least I hope it becomes a form of income, I have been doing it for a while and until now I have only really succeeded in losing money... I speak, as some of you will have guessed, of the Foreign Exchange, or Currency market, one of the most risky, and therefore, most profitable, if you are profitable, markets that there is... And this week I have been profitable, in fact I have earnt the same in the last few days on the markets as I would at work, or more... I just have to hope that it continues, then, I can go and do some more shopping and I won't have to wait for my birthday!

Recently on facebook someone asked me to include some stuff on fashion, and let's face it, it was bound to come up sometime... So, A, just for you I have some recent observations on Parisian fashion, and I am not talking about Dior or Chanel, but rather the things that you see on the street, and more specifically the very Parisian particularity of boho chic (see section on French bobos in particular) which is rampant in our quartier of the 19th arrondissement. This variant on style is all about looking very bohemian, rebellious, vaguely artistic, and like you haven't really made much of an effort; the paradox being that to do it properly takes more effort than just dressing up in a classic way... It is dressing down, but doing so with panache and style... So, to put it simply, I do not agree with it at all... For those of you that know me will know that I am all about effort, class and elegance... But back to the point, as for many of you this may be a look to which you aspire... So, if that be the case, take the basics of any boho outfit, a flowy patterned top, or skirt, or dress, but this season add glitter. That is right, glittery boho chic seems to be the new thing.

I looked for a picture of this phenomen, but they were all boring as f***, so, no pictures this time round, and

until next time dahlings, that was me...

Cocktails and crises...

So it is about time I gave you all another entry in my blog... I apologise for the couple of days away, but I have had almost too much on my mind to write anything coherent, though having said that, I am not promising anything particularly coherent now either...

It has been a strange few days at work, but all in all I am still happy there, and whether or not I get the promotion I am looking for I am likely to stay, as I like the people that I work with, like the clientele and get on relatively well with the boss, which, let's face it, is a rarity... Having said all that, at the moment the whole place is beyond ridiculous, with one person leaving, one on sick-leave, which we are all more or less convinced, is fake, one who has been there a week and is not sure he wants to stay and then me. Anyway it is all a bit messy and so I am not planning on putting too much into it; I show up I do my job and basta!


So, the crisis isn't really work related, so what is it... Well it is family related, and I am not going to go into any details here, especially as I cannot do anything about it, which is of course frustrating but not unusual. I just hope it dissipates on its own, as a bad odour might....

Why cocktails I hear you ask...? Well, quite simply because I like this picture and I feel like going for them, I just wish I knew when I might be able to... Work is rather inhibiting when it comes to going out in the evening for cocktails...

The other crisis, is one that I am at liberty to discuss and it is more or less annual... my birthday, which, for any of you wanting to get me a gift occurs on the 23rd of this month... Why the crisis, well, this year I turn 27, which is not that old, but I feel like I should have done more with my life and certainly should be earning more money and should be able to support my dear F without her having to worry about where we are going to get the money for various things for the wedding or whether or not we can afford this or that... The long and short of it is that now I finally have some responsibility I don't feel that I am living up to the expectations that I set for myself and don't feel that I am, well I suppose the word is, responsible... So, enough rambling, I hope to go for a cocktail or two soon, and it will probably be at Au Caveau Montpensier, rue Montpensier, 75001 Paris, near metro Palais Royal for any of you who want to come join me to discuss my crises and have a cocktail... Maybe Thursday? The day before my birthday, what do you think? Anyway...

Thanks for putting up with the rambling,

until next time dahlings, that was me...

Back to work...

So it is scorching weather, at least for May in Paris, the sun is shining and most of Paris is just ending a five-day weekend. Not many countries oblige their people to work as little, and everyone is surprised that the economy is in such a state...

Enough politics, though I will probably cave in to the pressure and have to talk about Carla Bruni (I mean Sarko, wait, which one is the president again....?) at some point. My dearest F and I are currently debating moving to London, which is where I grew up, for the same reason everyone moves to London, the money... But of course the problem with that is giving up the relaxed, we get five-day weekends and work 35-hour weeks (I wish) lifestyle... This of course is the reason that people move to Paris. That and the food, oh, and the fact it is probably the most beautiful city in the world, and did I mention the food...?

So back to the question at hand... London vs Paris... In terms of people, London wins. Not only are our beloved JJ there, but all our friends in Paris seem to be leaving. There are only C and P that will be here on a regular basis: some of you are going to be leaving for new jobs (S, we can't wait for our Hidden Kitchen experience...) some to go to sunnier climes and some are simply going home... The long and short is that there are more people in London that we would count amongst our good friends, oh, that and the fact that parisians are really difficult to get to know, whereas Londoners are very friendly.

But then Paris wins hands down on pure aesthetics, and I love a good pure aesthetic!! Not to mention transport, and size. How many people in London can say they don't have to spend more than 30 minutes to get to work...?

But then again there is the money, and with a wedding to be working towards, not to mention a down-payment once we are married... Well let's just say that the money is certainly a major factor, as for most of us...

I will leave it there for tonight, but

until next time dahlings, that was me...

Paris in the springtime...

So yesterday, walking over Ile de la cité and struggling past all the tourists I was almost knocked over by a larger lady walking along with a full-sized map and bumbag and she made me think of an article I wrote a number of years ago. So without further ado, here it is: (Apologies to those of you that have already read this, but I am feeling lazy today...)

Aaaah, April in Paris! A veritable orgy of all things touristiques: ridiculously large maps; brash loud Americans; happy-snappy Japanese; shouting British hoping that some extra volume might aid comprehension; and perhaps worst of all bumbags! In short everything that I generally try to avoid whenever I go on holiday, but Paris was drawing me; I hadn't visited in a long time and it was time for my birthday treat, and so I found myself in Paris for a short midweek break.

It was as bad as I had imagined it would be. If anything it was worse. There were more loud brash Americans, and happy-snappy Japanese than I thought existed, and at every turn I encountered a large school party attempting to hinder my progress, and usually succeeding. Normally these were French children, though occasionally they were German, which was even worse, because then I couldn't even shout at them to get out of my way, as I speak as much German as most loud brash Americans: none.

You might have got the impression that I didn't want to be in Paris. This could not be further from the truth. I love Paris. In fact I love Paris as much as I hate all tourist traps, which, I am sure you can see, makes it a somewhat paradoxical love affair, as Paris, especially in the spring, is perhaps queen of all tourist traps. So, you see my dilemma. Not only do I hate tourists traps, but I hate the tourists they trap. Again, slightly ironic you might be thinking, but I do not include myself in their number: I do not own a bumbag, let alone wear one, I don't carry a camera, I don't carry an oversize map which I reach for at a moment's notice, unfolding it to its full size, only to find that, in fact, the metro map I have spent the last five minutes searching for, is right in front of me on the wall. I follow the locals in pushing unceremoniously past and cursing under my breath, in French of course. I have lived in Paris, I was born there, I am, to all intents and purposes, as good as parisian, except that I am English.

So, what does one do when faced with this horror, how does one manage to beat the orgy, rather than join it, is it possible? The simple answer is: yes. The slightly longer one is: yes, but with difficulty. I know that I am not alone in hating tourist traps and the crowds that are found wriggling, en masse in their grasp. I know that some of us do succeed in our quest to break free, and experience something 'real'. Some people go on year-long, nay, even life-long quests for a 'real' experience, whatever that might mean. Some take drugs, some search for it in some of the most unsavorary, uncivilised corners of the world. Backpackers are forever searching for the most out-of-the-way place, so far from anywhere that noone has ever been there before, and before long this becomes the 'beaten track' they were trying to escape in the first place and the search has to start anew. However, one place where you can find a 'real' experience is in cities, as their are so many tourists that the odd one is bound to find their way off the 'beaten track'. All you have to do is make sure you are one of the few, and one way of making sure you are is to make the effort to meet the locals and speak to them, and to do that it helps if you speak the locals' language.

So it is that, with my knowledge of French, my knowledge of the Paris metro system, and a reasonable understanding of the Parisian culture (one which is inherently different to the French provincial culture, though they are entwined together making up the complex tapestry that is French culture) I embarked on a 5 day search that would see me consume 60 expressos, in a dozen or so different street cafes, covering all corners of Paris. The problem that I was confronted with is that almost wherever you go in Paris there is something of interest to tourists, simply because Paris is such a beautiful city, so down the most obscure looking back alley you can easily come across a 16th Century chapel swarming with tourists, who have bought guide books. I was not interested in 16th Century chapels, beautiful as they might be, I was interested in meeting some parisians and moaning with them about the ridiculous number of tourists that insist on polluting this beautiful city's streets.

I do not want to take you on a step by step tour, giving away all my little secrets on the way, for that is the surefire way to make sure that there are tourists everywhere when I go back, but I want to encourage you to search out your own secrets. Paris is known for its cafes, and for good reason, there are hundreds, probably thousands dotted around in the most unlikely places. There are tiny alleyways in the very touristy area of Montmartre never seen by the majority of tourists in which hide beautiful little smoky bars, with old men smoking Gaulloises and sipping coffee, pastis, or wine discussing, with more and more passion as the day wears and the drinks get stronger various aspects of life. These are the sort of places you can imagine Sartre and Camus formulating the ideas that came to be existentialism. It is not in this area though, that you would have found them, it is in the far more trendy St. Germain, where I once found a bar so obscure I have never found it since, and so stereotypical it could not have been manufactured, and perhaps was only a dream.

You entered up some dark stairs, in a small side street opposite an arthouse cinema. Inside it didn't get much lighter, and gradually, as you grew accustomed to the dark and smoky interior you saw the walls were covered in a mixture of abstract art and what looked like film memorabilia, but with pictures of people you had never seen before. At small tables there were a few old men hunched playing backgammon, but the majority of the clientele were young, mostly in their twenties. At the bar the barman was surly, as if he was offended that some tourists could have found his bar. He soon became more friendly as he realised we were ready to make an effort to speak his language and were interested in actually learning something about him, rather than his home city, as is often the case with parisians, so give them some time, and try not to ask stupid questions! The moment that you stepped up the stairs it was like you were transported to another place, away from the real world, where all that mattered was discovering the secret of the universe and solving life's mysteries. Somehow it felt that in having a discussion about what we were going to do the next day my friend and I were being disrespectful to an unwritten code. Most were huddled intently, just like the old men in Montmartre, discussing various topics, which at that time seemed to mean more to them than life itself. I was amazed that they could see anything, it was so dark, but this one man seemed to be jotting down things in a little notebook.

He looked like a stereotypical poet, he was wearing rimless, rose-tinted glasses, and a black polo-neck and I couldn't resist asking what he was writing, as I too love to write in small cafes, and often find it more inspiring, and in a way, more peaceful than an office. Ask I did, and indeed he was a poet. He said that most of his poems were unpublished, but that a couple had made it into a small parisian publication. Perhaps, in amongst those sunglasses, those deep discussions, to a soundtrack of a mixture of modern jazz and African tribal music, the thoughts of the next Sartre, or Camus were being fermented before my eyes, or perhaps I had just stumbled upon a lot of pretentious literary students having fun playing the philosopher. Either way it was a fantastic experience, and one I treasure.

If anyone ever asks me why I love Paris, or why they should visit Paris, and they don't think that it being a beautiful city is a good enough answer I tell them this story, or of one of the many other unique experiences I have had there, and normally they simply nod, and smile. Whether it is in agreement, or in the typical manner you look at a madman, or someone you don't understand, slowly backing away, I don't know and don't care, for I will always love Paris, even if there are a lot of tourists with bumbags!

I hope that this was enjoyable for at least some of you, and

until next time dahlings, that was me...

Another beautiful day in Paris...

So all is well once again with the world. Thank you for the advice J, I may just take you up on it...

Talking of a road trip across Europe, I am very open to suggestions of potential stopping points between Paris and Budapest, which is our eventual destination ("just get me to the church on time!!"). So far on the list of definite detours to make include somewhere in Champagne, to pick up 150 odd bottles of bubbly, Strasbourg, for a fabulous gourmet meal or two, Berlin, for some serious partying, and Vienna, for a night at the opera, presuming it is the opera season and we can get tickets...

What, you may ask, is all this in aid of? Well, it is really very simple, one only gets married once, or at least I hope to only get married once... So, a big blow-out bachelor party is required, and if we can do a few errands, such as pick up the champagne for the big event at the same time, then all the better...

For further suggestions you have time everyone, this is all more than a year away and will not be finalised for some time yet...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...

Welcome...

Welcome to my blog, which I am doing slightly out of rebellion, and slightly out of a desire to get back to writing something - anything - on a regular basis. I have been told that I will have nothing to write about, but then again name me a blogger that has anything to write about?

I am soon to be 27, living in Paris, planning my wedding and working in the restaurant industry as a sometime Maitre d'H and sometime waiter.

So tonight I will be sleeping on the sofa as I apparently I did something horribly wrong about 2 weeks ago, but was only informed of it tonight... To me this is weird, but hey, what do I know, I am a man...

I am at a stage in my life where I feel like I should have done so so much more and yet, here I am more or less where I was 3 years ago... Though one thing has changed, I now have some sort of responsibility... I am to be married in a year and don't feel able to look after my future wife. I am not stupid, I have been told, I am not lazy (at least not that lazy) and should be making something of my life, but here I am with my stupid dream of owning my own restaurant (which is not getting any closer) and in a year or two I will be responsible for the well-being not just of myself but of the woman I love... Talk about pressure.

So, this woman I love, who told me I would have nothing to write about in my blog, well, she is quite amazing, even if I am stuck on the sofa tonight, which, I will admit is partly my choice... Anyway, long story short, we had a huge fight about nothing... Our usual topic for the big fights...

Until next time dahlings, that was me...