So many blogs aaahhhh!!

I'm aware that I literally posted something on Monday or something (it's now Thursday), but the ANNOYING thing is that there is always a train from Thiers back to Clermont on the hour I finish work each day which I miss, and I have to wait 1 hour and 40 minutes for the next one. Always. Screw yooouuu, France! So I literally end up doing UNI WORK thrice a week. What. A. Joke.

Here's a funny story for ya:

So, this has been my week of accidents and injuries, which has been a long time coming, in my opinion. I seriously need to take out some form of medical insurance before the snow comes further down the mountains to Clermont or I am actually fucked. Those of you who know me well will know that I cannot go more than a month without obtaining at least a wee battle scar - for example, I still have a scar on my hand from cutting a potato in the dark whilst completely off it a couple of years back. Basically, last Saturday we ended up in a club that I don't particularly like where a barman plays shit music off his shit laptop through some shit speakers and the whole thing just makes me a bit sad inside, tbh. Anyway, there was broken glass everywhere (stupid, scabby RatPack) and Lauryn was wearing ballet pumps. So were a lot of the girls, but obviously I'm the one who's foot starts haemorraging really dramatically in a really weird place. Anyway, it obviously looked a lot worse than it was, but it did look a bit extreme! One side of my shoe was soaked in blood it was actually so grim. So I got sent home by my friends like a child to sort it out :(

You'll like this bit :) before I begin, let us please bare in mind that, although I, too, find this hilarious now, I was NOT happy at the time... Tuesday morning, I'm up at 6.30am which honestly feels like a lie-in these days. It's still pisssiiinnggg it down with rain at this point, so much so that I lose my bag strap on the way to the station. (Yes. You read that correctly. I actually lost an entire bagstrap to the torrential downpours and have been walking round like a total briefcase wanker ever since.) I need to be in school by 9am and the SNCF website informs me that there is a train from Clermont-Ferrand at 8.05 which will get to Thiers at around 8.50. Parfait, non? Anyshits, I rock up to the station at 7.50ish, believing myself to actually be sehr early. Lies. Bloody website and its huge web of LIES! So this absolute twaaaaattttt is at the ticket desk and when I ask for a ticket to Thiers, he's like 'aahhh yeeaahhh you've just missed it'. I was like 'QUOI?????!!!!!!!!!' Then, right, he takes his sweeeeeeet time printing the ticket for the train I've just missed? Odd. I point this out and he casually leans back and says (AFTER TAKING SO LONG!!) 'Oh, actually, it's still there, that train. You have one minute. Bye!'. C**t. Do excuse my language, but that particular word somehow immediately sprang to mind. I gave him THE filthiest look. Sorry, but you know when you KNOW that someone's done something deliberately and you're just like... Why? Why??? So, I decided to run for it. Actually sprinted out the door. Kind of. Basically, I like to think that I was just SO QUICK that the door did not sense my presence, but clearly French automatic doors are just retarded. It started to close AS I was running through it. Really want to use that word again. Ok, so I literally went BANG into the door and absolutely FLEW off it, leaving the whole glass wall thing shaking and reverberating. When I say that the station was busy at that time that morning, I mean it was PACKED with French teenagers. Don't worry, they didn't hold back with the laughing. I swear some of them actually couldn't breathe. They were roaring with laughter. You know people sometimes have nightmares of being in a crowded public place and having everyone laugh at them? I've never had that before, but it happened : motherfucker. But, being the absolute TROOPER that I am (sure), I kept going, struggling through the crowd with my stupid briefcase bag thing and pegged it back up the steps to my platform. As I emerged onto the platform with my broken bag, broken shoulder and broken dreams, I watched my train disappearing, along with my dignity, into the misty distance... Jesus Mother of ohmylife I was so pissed. I had to take 15 whole minutes to have a cigarette and calm myself down before I trusted myself to go back to twatface and ask to change my ticket without slapping him silly.

But it was quite funny, though :p

What else... Oh yeah, standardly quite embarrassed to be British in France right now after the football last night. Christ's sake, why are we so crap at everything?! Kind of over it, didn't get as much stick at work today as I thought I would! Although my wee bro gave me a tip on the phone last night - when we're losing, whack out the 'actually, my family's Irish so I'm not reeeaaally that English' card, and when we're winning, casually wave around the proud Londoner card. Cool.

Also, today we had a wee partay in the staffroom at lunch for le beaujolais, which is a type of red wine (and very nice, indeed!). I asked quite a few people, to be fair, but, at the end of the day, no one actually knows what's so great about this particular wine or why they celebrate it, at all. Would love to be able to tell you something nice and cultural but I get the impression it's pretty much just an excuse for a party/maybe for some independant local shops and stuff to close early or just not open because the wine said so. On continuera la fête ce soir chez ma copine français :) woop!

Much lovin'