Actually, I still have 33 reader feeds to go. Not including this baby which needs a mammoth update, let's roll shall we?
Well for the last two-ish weeks I've been across La Manche in la France, firstly for a week with my friends and then with my family for a week in our house up north. What follows is pictures.
We started out at TWO O CLOCK IN THE MORNING (hence my face) and trekked it down to London Luton, which is half a country away. All was going relatively well until I realised I'd done the classic thing and left my passport in the photocopier.
Well the photocopier thing isn't so classic, but forgetting my passport? You should have seen the Easyjet man's face, utter boredom as this bleary teenager burst into tears at five o clock in the morning. Credit where it's due, though, he got me on a coach to Gatwick for a transfer flight at one in the afternoon. Which was lonely, but hey, I did it. I rang my dad, poor guy, "hey daddy...i know it's five...but can you drive down to london for me?"
Sure, honey, sure.
Then I got on the plane, and lack of sleep plus stress plus cramps...not a good combination. In the end I threw up twice, once at the very end of the flight and once when I arrived at the appartment. God knows how I managed to get into a taxi in between then. Even waiting at the baggage carousel I felt like I was going to die, but my bag was thankfully the first out so I grabbed it and staggered to the rank. My friends, love to them, got me sorted with some water and some brioche and sooner or later I felt alot better.
My diary for that day: "Early in the morning, stomach sick, haven't digested the night before. Stuck on a coach bound for London Gatwick, eyes crusty rusty, red raw and sore. Two Germans in front in Bermudas, a billboard, 1800 connections heathrow and beyond, Terminal Five and I want to go home, this had better be worth it, German on right has hairy ears, fit guy to my right wearing shorts, too short, 5 whole hours until I can check in, next time, for Gods sake, REMEMBER PASSPORT." All in one long paragraph, written on the coach between airports. I think it pretty much describes my state of mind before the trauma of the flight.
Oh did I mention I hate flying?
So stage one was pretty disastrous. After that, though, was bliss.To quote us in our infinite drunken wisdom, "It was the summer of shitty wine."
Sung to the tune of Summer of '69 you see, and named after the absolutely dreadful two euro wine that sustained us for the week. We mixed it with all the substances shown below:
Disgusting I know, but I am a teenager and I will be teenage if it kills me.
A list I made about 3 o' clock in the morning after that particular night:
"I'm a barbie turd! Jo's confused gangster face. RAPE AND CONTRACEPTION. Pi pi la. Turdtard, treetard, oaktard, willowtard, blossomtard, Jo drinking wokinegar, Sarah and Jo poledancing on the columns, me texting my mom about her advent ph.d after she got stuck in paris. Putting UHT in the wine, it turns to blancmange. Running home along the beach and Jo won't go in. Elly being Mom. A sudden obsession with pubes, especially ginger ones, Elly probing Sarah. Sarah loves Mike lots and lots for no apparent reason. Reading texts and being outraged, I am becoming intolerant. Writing the 5E tip on the budget board and not quite keeping within the lines. Jo eating baby food."
Some of it hints at scandal, but I won't bore you with the details!
Anyway, when we weren't nicely squiffy, we were on the beach.
God it was relaxing.
We also went into Montpellier for the day, did some market shopping and the like. The picture won't load but here's a slightly blurry one of the jewellry I bought from it:
For the sake of reference, the JESE on my hand is liquid eyeliner and stands for Jo Emma Sarah Elly. And I have a total snake jewellry fetish that probably deserves a whole post.
Also as a sidenote, I really hate my hands. They're square.
So that was the sum of the parts of the week, pretty much, except a gloriously relaxing journey up to the north by train - five hours, two bottles of coke, a packet of oreos and a large rucksach on the TGV, which stands for train de grande vitesse (french speakers correct me! please!) and is indeed very speedy.
AND IT HAS TWO FLOORS :O
So I spent alot of time looking aimlessly out of the window, and writing in my journal which I love and haven't posted a picture of.
One day, I promise. For now, here is an excerpt of what I wrote at Gare du Nord in Paris whilst waiting for my connection to Amiens:
Train stations make me emotional and sad songs make me miss my dog, stupidly enough. And I would know about transport hubs and emotion, having spent a gazillion bazillion hours in them this holiday.
Mostly airports.
I miss my family, too. But then I also already miss the odd, quasi-independance of the last week. I miss spending every waking moment, and indeed sleeping moment, with Jo & Elly, although Sarah can go (censored for bad language and implied bestiality)
Even though some of the moments were grumpy and some downright mean, I love them more than any other non-blood people in the world, which is saying something I suppose.
Crazy floor-cleaner man keeps coming remarkably close, but hey, if you're a crazy floor cleaner man you have to get your kicks somehow.
I like to think this holiday has changed me for the better. Things learnt - the proper application of suncream, REMEMBERING PASSPORT, doing housework as you go along, how to make a quite nice pasta thing, basically living without meat for a week. Ingenuity transforms cheap wine, for better or for worse. When in a sandstorm, dismantle the pod or prepare to hunker down. Write everything down. Overpack, for God's sake, take the bigger suitcase. If in doubt, switch your brain on and think. If you don't know the French word, say it in an English accent. Get public transport info in advance. And hey, enjoy yourself. Why the hell not.
Sorry about the essay, but I feel like that sums it up, and I can move on from rambling about my holiday and on to pressing blog maintenance.
Item number one: Fill in the Blank Friday
1. The last thing I do before going to sleep is: turn of my reading light, pull the duvet up around my ears, do about half an hour's heavy thinking and then drop off.
2. When I can't sleep I: rearrange my duvet so i'm hugging it like a koala bear. or if its emotion based, scribble on the walls. or else read and book, and/or paint my nails.
3. The first thing I do when I wake up is: toilet! Sure you wanted to know that.
4. When I'm tired I: drop out of the conversation and lie down like this:
5. My dream bedroom would be: Well as it happens, I'm redecorating this summer so hopefully there'll be pictures ;) currently, giant gold birdcage mural and black picture frames, possibly black quotes on one wall...still deciding. It will be cool though, because I have imagination for these things if not technical accumen.
6. If I could wake up anywhere tomorrow morning it would be: back in Carnon with my buds! Or in the Beauty and the Beast library. Whichever.
7. The longest sleep I've ever had was: I once went 10pm to 3pm the next day. That's my record, as this blog will attest at some point. I do like sleeping!
8. I sleep on my: bed. I'm so funny. Anyway, usually end up on my left shoulder because I always have marks on my head where I've ended up on the table.
9. When I sleep, I like to wear: big t-shirts and shorts, or joggers in the winter.
10. My bedtime is usually: between 10 and 11 on weekdays, anyones guess at weekends and holidays. Usually early morning depending on the tv and the internet activity.
Well there's my Fridays caught up on. Now awards.
Well, award really, let's not get too carried away. At the risk of sounding like a newb, this is actually my first, so thanks to Nikolett for that!
The Versatile Blogger Award! Here are the rules:
There are some rules to this award:
1. Thank the person who gave you the award.
Well that one was easy.
2. Share seven things about you
1) I like memorizing lists. I used to have a superhuman capacity for it, nowadays I just have to do it to keep my brain in order. I can still name all the English monarchs since Edward the Confessor.
2) I am a Harry Potter nerd. I can blame it partly on being of That Generation, but also on my google obsession, and I usually know the answers to trivia questions. In fact, it would be my mastermind subject.
Don't laugh at me.
3) I like to have my books with matching covers, preferably hard-backs, and I don't like breaking the bindings of them.
4) I love to dance.
5) I'm a little bit of an obsessive hair dyer - currently a redhead, but in a month from now, anyone's guess.
6) I've been told there's a passing resemblance between me and Amy Pond. Not looks-wise, but I like big jumpers and apparently we make the same faces. Exciting, I know.
7) I'm currently researching WWI literature for an EPQ at college...and...kind of enjoying it.
In other words, I'm discovering my inner nerdiness.
3. Nominate 6 newly discovered blogs
This is hard, because I'm not actually subscribed to that many blogs. However, some recent subscriptions:
http://save-your-bacon.blogspot.com/
http://thewizardofoohsandahhsandfalalas.blogspot.com/
http://galadarling.com
I love blogs, I do, and there are so many I'd bring out here if it wasnt' "new finds" because there are some brilliant ones out there. However, these are three of the newest.
4. Let your nominees know about the award!
DONE.
Know what? I think I'm going to do something really epic and unsubscribe from my stardoll blogs. Stardoll, I thank you from the cockles of my liver for bringing me to the blogosphere, I really do.
For the record, I've always been too old for stardoll.
Whatever.
I'm extra too old for the blogs now, bye fellaz!
Well, that concludes my large update. I'll do north with the family some other time, and until then, enjoy your time.
Emma x
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