Ah well, reader. Back to work tomorrow after a wonderful weekend in Paris. Still, looking on the positive side, only two days to endure and then it will be the weekend and the second of my 'Come Dine With Me' dates. Liv (the host) is opting for a French-themed evening, which should be fun. Quite apt, considering my jaunt there last weekend. I sent her a message today, after she had mentioned that the evening would have a French theme. I advised her to ensure that the food was shit, service was surly and that she raided my purse at the end of the night, leaving me bereft of any currency. Good Lord, it was expensive.
I went to see Stephen (hairdresser) this afternoon and he raised a very valid point about Paris. You never see any fat people. It's true, I had never noticed it...but they are quite a slim race. The only porkers that I saw were foreign tourists.
I was shocked at the amount of vagrants, beggars and people with strange afflictions (no limbs, limbs that looked very un-limb-like, etc). Quite tragic and very sad to see.
So, highlights for me? Well, Venus De Milo at The Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Arc De Triomphe and Sacre Coeur.
I return to Shitty Central tomorrow. Apparently, one of my cohorts is having some 'problems at home', therefore meaning that I have to do a late shift tomorrow. Super. So, the last few hours of my time off have been spent having lunch with my oldest friend. Followed swiftly by a haircut and quick shopping trip, whereupon I purchased a top from Gap, some chicken liver pate and a punnet of strawberries. 'How very decadent!', I hear you cry.
On to a more sombre subject now. Seven years ago today, my wonderful mam died. In some ways, it seems like another lifetime ago, yet in some respects...just as if it happened yesterday. Weird. I miss her so much. Miss her conversation, her silliness, the smell of her hair. Sometimes the sadness of it all just hits me like a train. That's grief for you. No warning of when it will hit again. Just the sheer pain when it does...the huge sense of loss. It gets easier, but still hurts like hell. And so, I pour myself a night-cap (Isle of Jura single malt), listen to some music and just 'remember'. Here's to you mam...xxx
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