Au Pair Monologues

The shortest goodbye

2010-09-08T08:41:00.000-07:00

I just realised that I didn't even say goodbye.

A friend of a friend reads this blog and I was told last week that they are missing my musings.

I am missing my musings and while it is very very difficult to let go, I have now moved on, still blogging but now at cackleoutloud.com. This should hopefully have you all rolling on the floor.

The monologues have closed but as I read back on all that I have experienced I smile, cry and shake my head.

If this is of help to any of you who wish to become an au pairs then my time was not wasted. If it isn't of any help then at least it kept me busy.

Signing off,

The temporary farm lodging au pair.

The longest goodbye

2010-07-15T02:23:00.000-07:00

So I am back, where? At home in London. Am I happy.................................?

Hell Yeah.

Although the tears that I shed at the airport were definitely heartfelt, this emotion was superseded by relief. Relief that I can now choose my own meal times, relief that my bottom is the only one that I will be wiping from now on. Relief, just pure and utter relief!

Well that was until Lo and I went to check in.

'Your bags are 16k over, you will have to pay'. Have I mentioned that I hate Easyjet. I was broke and still had a week of entertaining my guest to do on the pound sterling and they were asking me to fork out 189 euros......there was nothing else for it, I turned on the water works and pleaded.

In between gulps of laughter that I managed to disguise as hysteria (successfully I hoped) my travel companion tried to distance herself, but no way I needed her. 'Rub my back Lo' I asked, 'I am going to open the floodgates' I warned.

To our relief five minutes later the supervisor accepted my pleas and gave me a stern warning.

Vodka bottle in hand we celebrated our departure and proceeded to the gate.

As luck would have it our flight was cancelled, hmmm I thought, best get in the queue for new tickets quick I reflected as I remembered the Christmas chaos that meant I had to stay longer in France before returning to London.

I didn't mind staying in the hotel for the night, I knew that breakfast was good and that I didn't have limited time in London, my future was and is what I now choose and I guess always has been, only thing was, would I still have problems with my baggage?

After assuring me that he would put a note on my account to say that I would not have to pay for my bags, we were shown to the reception desk at the hotel. We scored a beautiful suite and a flight the next morning, well I guess my luck isn't that bad I thought to myself.

I am not my hair

2010-06-24T16:05:00.000-07:00

'Oh no I am not taking out my hair until the stallions leaves....I don't want to traumatise him' I remember myself saying.

What would be so traumatic? The fact that I have real hair, the fact that it is short, he met me and fell for me when I had my afro.

'ah Ife, comme tu es belle avec tes cheveaux, oui, je les préfére comme ca'

'A woman looks so much better with long hair'

So as I ponder on these comments that have been made over the past 3 months I think to myself, why have I kept this rag on my head for so long? I didn't want to start my work experience with my afro, so I re-did the front, then I thought well, lets not change it and freak people out but was I trying to fit in?

I have no problems telling people that my hair is fake as the lady at the supermarket was informed but I have been more than ready to take it out for a month now.

I am a little disappointed in myself and so as I start the long process of pulling out my matted braids, I'm ready for the looks and comments of where has your hair gone? Oh I preferred it the way it was before. Do I care? Yes, because my afro is part of me. I love weaves and extensions too and I aint no natural campaigner but at the same time, I do find it offensive when people say that they don't like my hair.

I have worked on this look and love it and I think that I forgot that..................

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E_5jIt0f5Z4

The pride before the fall

2010-06-07T10:39:00.000-07:00

Some say that it is a bad thing to be proud, but what about when you have worked so damn hard to get to where you are. There is a difference between Kanye West, whom I love despite his arrogance (it seems to work as some kind of allure to me) and me-proud. Ok Ok, at times I do border on the KW ego trip but in essence I am just proud of me.

And not enough people are, ever paid someone a compliment and they're like oh this old thing, oh I look so fat in it blah blah far king blah go and bore your therapist I only gave you a compliment?

I don't lie and if you don't look great I won't say a thing so why are people not proud enough of these minor achievement, why not just say 'Thank you, I love it too'. I know what I would say and so do my friends......'I know, don't I look fab'?

Three weeks to go and I am dying to break free, I am pulling through, making the most of my last moments here, and people ask me if I am sad, no, no I am not, this is not the end of my relationship with France, it's only the beginning if my work experience is anything to go by.

One week into working as a translator and I am loving it (please note that this has been written before feedback has been given). I was thinking that I would be bored and that the women in the office would be bitches but French women can be nice.

It is nice to be in a work environment again and taking a two-hour lunch is the icing on this tarte aux pomme.

Let's just say that my job hunt spans over more than just the UK, what do they say about the world being your oyster? Well I dunno really cos an oyster is really small, I would like to think of it as my ocean, I was scared to dive in but this week I learned that if I am careful and relaxed, I can adapt to the way the water flows enjoying everything that it has to offer.

Love love!

You have to go back to go forward.

2010-06-03T12:52:00.000-07:00

So my stallion has gone and left me.......with a ticket to Milan in August, woopee! Go me!

I'm more excited about what is to come rather than anxious, I'm looking forward to the next few months now that I know a lambourghini drives fast when I want it to, smooth around the bend and long (cough) I mean far although it needs filling up a bit too often.

Life at the farm hasn't changed much, I try to make an effort but then I get asked what I am doing at the weekend, even though I am already spending the best part of Saturday helping out with Fred's birthday (which I am actually excited about).

I have decided to try and wander away from the chaos on Sunday, I am hoping that it is nice out, wouldn't mind taking a nap in the park. J however has other plans, shelling beans. Wow I couldn't believe she actually asked me if I was there on Sunday so that I could help her shell beans because it is just sooooo much work for one person.

Why don't you make it a bonding session with the girls, hey get the donkey and parrots involved. I thought to myself while smiling and saying sorry, I am otherwised engaged. My friend made a comment and I think it is true 'they're really trying to get their money's worth before you go'.

Well I'm going back in four weeks and counting but will I be able to move forward, in January I felt like I had some unfinished business but I guess I just wasn't letting go. I have the peace and love that was sought by another whom will always be important to me.

I also have perhaps a little too much confidence, but hey there's no way that can ever go back to go forward, it has always been.

Love love, loving.

P. S How do you tell your parents that you have bought a Lambourghini? Answers on a postcard.

30 is the new 20!

2010-06-03T04:34:00.000-07:00

In France anyway, my host parents look better that the Stallion and I, can run farther than I can and stay up later than I do, they are way past 30.

No it's not in the bread, or the cheese, or the wine believe me, I have put it all to the test and I am still gasping for breath after five minutes on the treadmill. So what is it.

'C'est la vie', it actually is, it's all in the way that the French perceive their life, they work hard and party harder. They smoke and drink til 1am and rise up at 6am to run for an hour and a half, they prove that the body can go the distance and perhaps even further.

This is why I am thinking of staying in France, unless I can recreate this lifestyle in the UK, I don't think I will be back there for very long. This experience has been great, ok let us not exagerate, it has been good. I could have made it better but anyway what I am saying is why end it now?

I am searching for jobs in Paris, I fell in love with it around this time a year ago when 7 girls, yes 7 took the Eurostar from St Pancras to Paris Gare du Nord and spent four amazing nights in the city of romance. Without men-go figure! This was also the time that MJ died, we bumped into Bacary Sagna and I had one of my best weaves ever!

This week Fred brought tears to my eyes as he opened up a new towel his mum had bought for him, he asked me if I had one, I said 'no'and then he said that I need one and we must buy one for me. To him I am a part of the family, I'm worried about when I leave..........

Oh well, two weeks and counting!

Mountain out of a molehill

2010-05-26T01:00:00.001-07:00

One of my favourite songs at university repeated these words, 'I'm Ready', it has been an interesting couple of weeks, last weekend was fun, time with the stallion and with the girls.

We two travelled to Annecy and hired a pedalo, ate icecream and enjoyed each other's company.

Sunday we and the girls took the rental car to Marseille AKA Cote Bleu, AKA bliss. I had planned on a long hike but we ended up enjoying the water and chilling out instead.

And then the weekend finished and I return to normality as it is known to my host family. Lo and I went to eat on Monday and after a heart to heart returned to our hell holes (exageration for me).

The next morning went smoothly and I was looking forward to playing with the children that afternoon. I was a little surprised to hear the children tell me that we basically meaning I would be setting up a huge trampoline and supposedly their parents were ok with it. Firstly I am not DIY and secondly, fancy asking me first!? I flat out refused and as they tried to set it up themselves and gave up I wondered what their parents were thinking.

As J came home I went for a jog, it started to rain and I returned to see them clearing up their children's mess, well that's what you get I thought as I walked past and didn't lift a finger.

The next day J decided to do the grocery shopping after about two months, she moaned as she came back that noone was there to help her unpack, oh well, I never get any help either I thought, and really it aint that difficult.

Today she is making a cake/tart for Fred to take to school, I do this all the time alone with the children and yet she cannot manage to do it, she asked for help (which she didn't need) and I didn't help until she directed it at me, she wanted me to spread the apple out on the pastry (WTF, do it yourself, I do it all the time).

Working and having children I can understand is very difficult but please stop making a mountain out of a molehill when you don't help the situation, make the children help you cos when am gone......

Reality is a five letter word.

2010-05-20T06:12:00.000-07:00

Filling in applications has brought me crashing back to reality, what the hell do I do when I get back to London, I need to find a job and quick if I am going to keep up my lifestyle of French bread (surely you can get it imported) Rich yoghurt, cheese, fish etc etc etc.

All I know is that I want a four-day week like my host mum has, it just makes life that much better, yes I know that I don't have any kids of my own, yes I know that England is not like France, but I can't go back to five-day working weeks.

I gave my penultimate English lesson to my favourite student yesterday and as it hit me (again) that I will be leaving in six weeks I can't actually imagine my life back in England.

Will I put weight back on? Will I forget my French, will I find that yoghurt that I am addicted to and the children have finished.

Most importantly, will I keep in contact with these lovely people that I have met and really like?

Well as they say, it's not over until the fat lady sings, and I don't think she will as I can't seem to find a damn fat woman in this country.

Love, Love

Stop existing, start living

2010-05-17T12:48:00.000-07:00

I moan I moan and I moan, I forget to tell you the good bits, like a pleasant conversation with hot host dad and a funny joke that was told at the dinner table.

I have been back from another trip, this time to Cannes, St Tropez, Monaco and Nice and time is passing very quickly, it is only a matter of weeks til I get back to England and I find myself thinking wait, you need to really make the best of this.

No matter how much I lament, I must admit that I am not a saint and have made my own mistakes during this journey, I appreciate the love that the family has shown me and will miss them.

I want to come back in December to visit my friend and to go the festival of lights.

This last weekend was interesting, we 'couch surfed' (stayed for free) in an amazing apartment in Cannes with views of the sea.

Dug our way into and out of uncomfortable situations 'you know we'll be sleeping together in 5 mins right?' Managed to watch the Grand Prix for free and took some blinding photos. I am looking forward to coming back but at the same time just take a look at what I will be leaving behind.

Are you having a bubble?

2010-05-07T06:05:00.000-07:00

I am swinging between anger, pity and guilt.....

I have swung back to anger again, after a lovely month of April, which included a trip to Provence, that went better than I expected and my two lovely friends coming and bestowing me with a fantastic outfit and wonderous cream. I'm back to the farm.

I am tired, drained, I can't live with another family that is not my own anymore and especially a family where the mother says nothing when her child takes to wearing her au pairs clothes.

I have recently decided to give J and JP a taste of their own medicine while remaining more kind and caring to the children, the parents are not informed much of my activities anymore and do not see me during the weekend. Why? it all started a while back but the straw that broke the camel's back came last weekend when there were no buses running and I was going to visit my Polish friend who's host dad is my host dad's childhood friend.

In France nothing runs on a bank holiday so as there were no buses, I decided to bum a ride to town with J and JP as they were picking up the children from Lyon. I figured that buses would run in town. ...no they didn't.

JP asked me where I would like to be dropped off and while I thought in my head, where I am going would be nice, I said Vaise, if they were not offering, I wasn't going to ask. As I started getting out of the car J asked how I would get there (like you care) I said that I would get a cab CUE you saying oh well we will drop you off.

Minutes later I was on the phone to my friend asking for directions by foot, she passed me to her host dad who greeted me with 'hey baby, where are you' ? His Franco-Americano was funny. I described the area thinking that i would get directions but he finished off by telling me that he would be there in 15 minutes. I rang off and burst into tears, called my sister and best friend and babbled about how it just goes to show that my host parents don't care about me. He even dropped me off the next day and found it strange that JP had not dropped me off himself.

The next night I didn't eat with the family, I was still angry.

Today I am meant to be going out and buses stop running at 7pm, JP has come home early so I have told him that I will be getting the last bus as I don;t want to use their car. He asked me if I would be back in the morning and I said no, he looked put out and I asked why, he said J and he wanted to go for a jog tomorrow morning. Do I give a.............? I am sorry if I have just inconvenienced you but if you showed a little appreciation I would go back to being me (sweet as pie). Last Saturday morning I was wiping your child's arse at 7.05am as you slept . Last Saturday you dropped me off me off in the middle of nowhere and your friend came to pick me up so F YOU.

He ended the conversation by saying that we need to keep each other more informed, hmmm you think?

Rant over!

Change of Pace

2010-05-02T11:32:00.000-07:00

The day after, yes, the day after the 8h drive back from Barcelona I was ready for another voyage.

Direction Provence, but was I ready for what was to happen next....?

The sun blessed us sending down endless hours of its delicious rays so we were free to wander the streets of Beaucaire until it went to bed. Both of us donning shorts, Giorgio's seemingly a little more risqué than my own but hey, he is Italian.

The house was a charming terraced gem with a roof-balcony-cum-terrace that had restricted but charming views (what does that mean you ask.....?)

We had four floors and two bedrooms to ourselves, a beautiful kitchen that I decided I would definitely be cooking in.

The first night we decided to go for a simple meal and returned to out humble abode settling down to 'La Vita e Bella'. Being the cheap date that I am after 2 glasses of wine I was swiftly transported to the romantic land of nod with a sturdy shoulder propping me up.

I didn't finish the film that night but that wasn't because I fell asleep.

Barcelona, a volcano, four girls (what happened to the other two?), a rental car and a GPS. (Part 3: Road Trip)

2010-05-01T08:02:00.000-07:00

As unrest grew in terminal 2 of Barcelona airport, I came up with the idea of renting a car, we had two capable drivers (hmm, my skills have been doubted and the other driver is American).

Ok first tried Hertz, no cars! Ok Europcar= 1500eur to hire a car because they would have to collect it and bring it back from France. Ooooooooooooooooh ISH!

This wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought and my bright idea seemed to be dimming with every new ray of sun the catalan clouds decided to permit through…now that we were meant to be leaving might I add.

Avis were not open and…“there are some other rentals outside," said a lady who had just dropped off a rental car and tip, "if someone brings back a car from France, it will be cheaper.” Thanks for the heads up lady I thought, two of us dashed outside and the hunt began, for almost an hour we went from rental to rental searching for a French car. Found one for over 400 eur, hmm, we can do better than that I thought as more cars arrived.

You see the whole of Europe was in turmoil and the most popular means of transport was a car. There were some important conferences happening in Barca that weekend so there was bound to be some cars coming in…. Cue lovely lady at Europcar, British too from Sussex but very much with an east London accent. She sorted us a nice 7-seater for the same price as a 5- seater meaning we could split the costs even further. Ok so we had found the car, now we just had to find people crazy enough to want to hop into the car with us. Ok crazy couple found. After 4 hours, half a cup of coffee some haribos and no sleep, we were finally on our way back to France. But nothing is ever as simple as it sounds, especially in Spanish and especially when you don’t like GPS’ and you don’t understand a word of Spanish. Well I really undertood the word Sangria the night before.

A trip to who knows where, direction Stiges???? and a return to the airport and finally we were on our way. The other two girls who were flying to London had decided to wait and see what they could do about their flights rather than go through the trouble of getting to Calais or Paris.

So here we were with an 8 hour drive in front of us, and the Pyrenees mountains either side of us although we were exhausted, we could all appreciate the beauty.

Our co- passengers were quite chatty and after a while I did want some silence, I was literally sleeping with my eyes open and they were disturbing that, I should have been thankful as they were a very lovely couple who lived in Paris with their two children.

We dropped them off in Narbonne, a beautiful French city on the French/Spanish border. We took some pictures on the bridge and bumped into the couple again at the McD toilets where we took a group photo and finally made our way back to Lyon, pitt stop Arles to drop off my Polish friend.

Lyon at 8pm and we were finally there, finally……we just had to fill up. As we turned in to fill up, we blew out sighs of relief as we really couldn’t believe that today had actually happened.

Lo got out to fill up but it was not working, she went to speak to the cashier who told her that she was at the pump for cards only. As she jumped back into the car started to reverse, I realised that the pump was still in the car, too late as I saw the petrol cover fly off the car (that’s going to be expensive I thought, who’s card is it on?).

I looked over at Lo, who looked like she was about to crumble, this long day was about to take it’s first victim. I looked at her, my other friend and laughed, well I didn’t want to cry, which was the other option. I couldn't stop and as they joined in I thanked God that we were safe, poor but safe.

We fixed it and filled up the petrol (fingers crossed no one needs to fill up for a while) and we should get away with it, as we drove off the cashier looked at us, I looked back thinking you don’t know the ‘alf of it mate.

Things I would have added or should

Anxious host dad and 50 calls

1 text from my host mum

Panicked host dad who wanted to take car

Barcelona, a volcano, four girls (what happened to the other two?), a rental car and a GPS. (Part 2)

2010-05-01T07:10:00.001-07:00

Our last night and we ended up at a club walking distance from our apartment, after that is trekking about 2km to find a restaurant that was open at 1am and then to the suggested club. I think we had gotten way too comfortable with the Spanish way of life as our siesta’s were getting longer but our gait got stronger the later on it got.

‘Mojito’ was literally grinding with latin flavour and as everyone paired off to whine unnaturally close to their dancing partner, I was picked up by a rather friendly 40-year old looking, 5ft Venezulean. Ok do not and I repeat do not judge a book by it’s cover as he moved me all over that sweaty dancefloor, I actually began to acquire an appreciation for the latin style of dance, it was fun twirling around moving your hips (almost breaking them).

We decided to leave the club around 3am, take a cab at 5 to the airport as our flight was scheduled to leave at 7.55am. No rest for us, we’re young and hey we would be able to sleep all day once we reach our desired (or undesired) destinations.

It all started going downhill when the taxi we had organised earlier didn’t arrive, so we called two others, just then our taxis decided to arrive (got to love the Spanish for time keeping). Dilema, the new taxis wanted dinero and we were getting late for our flight. Taxis paid and finally we were at the airport, smiles all round as the trip had been successful. Check-in opened soon and…..

FLIGHT CANCELLED due to volcano ash from Iceland. (where the F is Iceland)

I liked Barcelona but I really wasn’t prepared to spend anymore money, we needed to get out and get out quick, train, bus, hitchhiking, anyone here own a donkey? It would fit right in on the farm I promise! As we all considered our options ( a flight in Europe was not one of them) we wondered, should we really have gone out that late.

Hell Yeah!

Barcelona, a volcano, four girls (what happened to the other two?), a rental car and a GPS. (Part 1)

2010-04-28T09:54:00.000-07:00

I (we) had landed and was more than excited about this trip, sun, sea and clubbing….sounds like Ibiza but no, it’s Barcelona. Lacy was already there (turns out in a totally different terminal) and we were just waiting on Anja.

I had left the farm and was ready to leave my cares and worries behind. Who says that you can’t run away from your problems? This was to be the start of a new…..well week I guess.

This trip to Barcelona ignited my desire to

1) Party

2) Eat

3) Take pictures

4) Speak Spanish

5) Run away from my host family.

The other five girls that were with me didn’t know each other from Jack and I did wonder how that was going to pan out. One couldn’t speak English and the other no French.

When we finally found the apartment we were pleasantly surprised, it was clean spacious and best of all, there were two bathrooms….no balcony though.

I had put the deposit on my card and tried not to freak out every time I heard a clash of plates.

Every day was an adventure and as we lost ourselves in the Catalan roads and learned new Spanish words, while praying for a break in the clouds I couldn’t help but appreciate this city for the second time in one year.

As the girls looked to me for direction (being a native an all) I looked online for the Mango Outlet, this mission needed to be completed and as efficiently as possible.

So I ended up going twice in a row but hey I’m worth it.

This trip was a lot different than my previous one, both having their merits in leaving me wanting more of this wonderland.

Highlights included, 7 Portes, crazy night along the boardwalk where we couldn’t speak to each other and Lo had to wash the dishes. Foodgasms, wearing shorts when it is freezing, Natural poses……..TBC

Bon Voyage

2010-04-25T11:47:00.000-07:00

The last night with the family and surely we could have a peaceful one, er, what was I thinking, of course not.

The accommodation was not booked so J and JP were running around like headless chicken. I waited patiently, mumbled a couple of comments that I was tired in the hopes that we may be able to eat soon to no avail.

I was annoyed, I would be working at the library early the next morning, I decided to volunteer as it would mean that I would be in contact with French speakers all the time, plus I have so much free time on my hands.

J and JP knew this and as the clock struck 10pm and my belly was still empty, my patience was exhausted and I decided to go to bed.

I felt it very selfish that I had to suffer for their lack of preparation, I even thought about searching for an apartment for them, then I remembered the gratitude or lack of when I found the one that we stayed at in Montpellier.

Two weeks of peace unfortunately could not keep the anger boiling in my stomach.

I should have eaten with the kids I thought to myself.

At 10.17 J called me, I told her that I was already in bed, five minutes later I was bitching to my sister and my friend.

The next day I ate breakfast with the children as I wouldn’t be seeing them for a while I made a special effort. J descended and asked me if I ate at all, I told her no, it was too late for me and turned away. I think that was sufficient.

Coralie rode her bike while I walked to the library, it turns out that it is not that far on foot. The first day went smoothly and I even met some girls around my age at the library, shame they were only there for the weekend.

Hallelujah!

2010-04-07T04:33:00.000-07:00

You can't imagine my excitement!

They may be leaving the house on Sunday for Corsica. Woo hoo, party over here!

Although that might mean that they will be here when my friends are.

I wanted two blissful weeks of PEACE.

I am missing home but having a good time still. April is going to be such a cool month, I can't wait to do Barcelona again and am very excited about my friends coming.

I have managed to confuse JP, he thought my hair grew over night and I am looking forward to more blank stares. 'I be looking fly right now' with the extensions just need to make sure that they don't fall out where anyone can see!

This is just a short one, needed to let out my excitement!

Water off a duck's back

2010-04-03T14:03:00.000-07:00

Or two or three, what is wrong with this family, why have they bought three ducklings? The children like them for one week and then forget about them, they didn't even care when I ran over the dog. Oops

JP threw a tantrum today, he hasn't been himself lately and perhaps I'm not the only one on my period. He erupted when J told him that he was being moany, I think that he is stressed and at the end of his tether.

At the moment am feeling more at ease, things are not getting to me so much.

I think I have finally found the most amazing villa for my Provence adventure complete with private pool. Feel free to drool!

Being the kind au pair that I am, I gave the parents the night off and decided to look after the rugrats, well there's no point in everyone being miserable is there? (well I'm not, I'm excited!)

The next morning and Fred has already dropped his duckling and is screaming that he doesn't give a damn about it (apparently it bit him). It hasn't even been 24h and they are crapping all over the place.

The paternal grandparents are coming over, they rarely do and I think that it is something to do with the cleanliness of the place. This place is a tip. You have been warned.

Love, peace and a Happy Easter

Good Vibes

2010-04-01T07:01:00.001-07:00

Ok so I'm going to Barcelona in 13 days, the countdown has begun, six girls, one city and loads of good trouble me thinks (If I go by my last trip to a Catalan club).

I have said this before and I will say this again, what a difference a day makes. This month I am expecting my girlfriends over, I am too excited, we get to talk weddings, hairstyles and I am hoping that they will help me bring some essentials over. No not the Indian lady who threads my eyebrows in Upton Park for 2 pounds. (Unless we can fly her over and have the service for 2 pounds) I'm talking tea and fake hair lol!I need to switch up my look and confuse some white people. (Hey am not racist, I have white friends ....I love that saying)

I am trying to make an effort, (hmm, I should make more with my french, when was the last time I wrote or read French?) What I mean is, I am already looking forward to my next project. I have decided that going back to England this year is not for me, hey who knows, I may end up in Italy.

Aribaaaaa, oops that's Spanish, I mean Arrivederci, En tout cas....Ole! lol!

Come and Go

2010-03-29T05:42:00.000-07:00

It's funny how things change, well perhaps not exactly funny but it's something. There are normally two reactions, accept it or deny it.

I have accepted a lot of things in the past, tossed and turned till the wee hours of the morning not really realising that it's not worth it. I'm not saying that I won't continue to worry about things but I am starting to deal with these issues, whether the issue be with another person or with myself.

Not many people are going to hold your hand and lead you through what can be the minefield of life, so dust off your walking shoes and bougez (move). It is kinda of hard facing things head on though so feel free to wear a crash helmet.

I'm talking about situations with my host parents, I just don't feel the need to involve myself in their life, I just don't feel like they actually care themselves too much so why should I. I will always love the spoilt brats but I think if a golden opportunity to bounce came along, I would leave. I'm talking about situations with so called friends who feel that they can use you when their plans don't exactly go how they want them too. Yeah I'm talking about YOU!

I have three months left and it's recently been great on the making friends and having fun front, but why should I feel guilty for doing this in my free time? I don't get informed of daily goings-on in the household and I am very close to bouncing...out of the house not France, am staying til June whether they like it or not.....I think!

Love Love

Silence is deafening

2010-03-25T14:08:00.000-07:00

I never want to hear anything like that again in my life, it keeps replaying in my mind, the high-pitched wail that shocked us into silence.

It was a warm day very much the weather that we have been experiencing of late and as we made our way back to the house, Annabel, Frederic and I in what I and my friends have nicknamed the camion that I drive around.

We couldn't have imagined what would happen next.

We jumped out of the car. Ebony, the puppy managed to drag himself out from under the large people carrier and limped over to the grass. I had run over the dog. Why did it have to be me, if it was going to happen, why couldn't J or JP have done it?

The children were at first shocked but seeing as he wasn't dead, they carried on with their daily routine and snacked before going out to play.

When J arrived we took baby to the vet. An ex lover of JP's brother (she ditched him supposedly). She was lovely and took care of baby's fracture, and now he has to stay in the house for three weeks.

I felt so bad but J and JP didn't say anything and were not angry, I suppose that these things happen, but why me?

Still shaken....at least it wasn't a child.

When the going get's tough

2010-03-20T02:28:00.000-07:00

Someone or something else has moved onto the farm, it's called the unreasonable bound to appear sooner or later side of the over-bearing and pushy mum.

Host mum isn't happy. She says that things aren't as good as they were, we don't share any more, we don't talk any more, the house is messy........The house is messy because I stopped tidying up after you arses. When I tried to encourage the children to clean up after themselves, I didn't get much support. When I do the shopping, nothing, when I found the rental accommodation in Montpelier, nothing.....Whatever!

I had a lot more to add to the conversation but due to the fact that the children kept wanting in on the conversation it just didn't feel like the right time. Wednesdays I give my classes and as she is there, I practically leave her to it, it is meant to be my day off anyway. I told her that in the evening(on a Wednesday), I will most likely be out if the house as I will have been cooped up for the whole day. My friend warned me that things always start off nice but that it is usually the women who mess things up, very true.

None of what she was saying really made sense and it all boiled down to, I kinda need you to help out on Wednesdays as well but feel to ashamed to say that I have taken too much on. When I started Coralie didn't have activities on a Wednesday evening and now she finishes her day at 9.30.

She also pointed out that I spend a lot of time in my room, I pointed out that I am studying (writing my blog or FB chatting lol). But my downtime is my downtime. What is her problem?

Was she looking for a friend when she hired the au pair?

I went out twice during this week and that also seemed to bother her, the weather is getting nicer and I will be leaving for the whole weekend at times, what will she do then? Is going out twice in one week when I shall be babysitting the weekend really a bad thing?

I am going to try and be more open but in terms of taking every opportunity to go out, that will not change, I am the one in a strange land and I will do my best to enjoy the time that I have hear. First and foremost I am here for the children's well-being and none of what she had to say concerned that so.........roll on the next three months.

The discovery channel

2010-03-16T00:55:00.000-07:00

I love rediscovery, when you find yourself, someone, or simply the TLC Fanmail album in the music section of the little library I take the children to in the next town.

As I made my way into Lyon, music blaring I remembered 1999, I was 14, and I had copied the album off my very close friend at the time, the adopted sister as my sister and I used to call her. She got married last year, I didn't go. We had a falling out, things hadn't been as they used to be for a couple of years and as we grew older everyone's priorities changed. I made the right decision for me then, but it feels weird not being in her life. Do I miss her or am I just curious?I have been thinking about her a lot recently...she's probably pregnant that's why! I have discovered that I can let go, nothing is indestructible, although the most fragile things like friendship are hard to let go, how long can you really work on something? I say if you really want it....forever. Breaking up with a friend is harder than breaking up with a man (ask Lauren Conrad), I can't do it again.

I discovered that the boucherie was closed on Mondays. Pity as I had promised to show off my culinary skills. I offered to cook for Giorgio as he had already cooked me a lovely meal the week before, he CAN cook and I had absolutely nothing to complain about. He ended up preparing the dinner again....hmmmmmmmm, I could get used to this but can he?

Love, Love

Limits and Barriers

2010-03-16T00:41:00.000-07:00

I didn't want to take the dog, I don't have to do I, I mean it's not in the contract? Just like I don't need to feed the chickens. I don't mind taking out the rubbish etc etc but I don't like taking care of the animals and I won't be made to feel bad about it....so why do I?

Coralie and I walk to the bus stop at 7.45 every morning with Caramel, yesterday Caramel entered someone else's garden and nabbed their dog's bone. The owner was not impressed. I didn't particularly want to bump into the lady again and decided that this morning I didn't want to walk the dog. I stood my ground with both J and Coralie even when they suggested that I put her on a leash. I wanted to be alone, I wanted to think............

There's been a lot to think about recently, I have some decisions to make, big and small and normally I would be all on the phone pouring out every detail of my oh-so-interesting life, but I don't want to do that anymore, I don't feel the need to do that anymore and I suppose that everything has been going better for me (I'm a big girl now).

After a great weekend on the beach in a cosy apartment not far from Montpellier, I have had time to reflect, make my decisions and stick to them. It's for the benefit of everyone.

Love, Love

I believe I can fly

2010-03-10T02:55:00.001-08:00

I wasn't disappointed. The risotto was tasty and the night was interesting (in a good way).

It's funny how much of an effect things and people can have on you, the simplest things can keep me going for days, last week I woke up with a smile at least three days in a row, J was slightly confused as I barely raise my head in the morning.

This weekend we are going to Montpellier, it's still cold and is supposedly snowing down there but everyone has told me that it is a wonderful city. I have decided that we must go and visit the caves that are not too far from there, I have wanted to do this ever since we went on a school trip to the south of France, the trip left a marked impression on me, not only did we get burgled at the hotel but we visited some amazing places there, thus began my love affair with the hexagon.

My plans are changing as this sejour continues, I may learn Italian instead of Spanish lol, hmmm I have always wanted to drive a lambourghini.

Still Moaning and Still a Little ILL

2010-03-01T12:42:00.000-08:00

Smooth operator formally known as shot sipper has invited me for dinner, this better be good as I will not hold back. He speaks English, French and German, plus his mother tongue Italian.

I love a smart man!

The intercom doesn't work any more, now as I don't normally wish bad things on good people, someone must have been reading my mind. The intercom is located in my room beautiful as this room is, it has some major flaws, cold, door doesn't lock, not sound proof, cannot be transformed into a detachable mobile house....am I asking too much?

The intercom situation is annoying and I must admit that I have ignored it once, it ended up being J's parents whom I really like but I was in the shower for goodness sakes. Anyway the damn thing doesn't ring anymore, so it won't be waking me up on Sunday mornings after J has gone for her run, I distinctly remember her telling me in the beginning that friends know the code blah blah blah so they wouldn't be needing to go into my room so often. LIE.

Secondly, close the door after you, the new dog has p'd in my room and has started eating shoes, J thought it was funny and was like look look he has your sock in his mouth how cute, I rolled my eyes. I wasn't impressed and wasn't afraid to show it, what was he doing in my room...oh I know, someone left the door open when they went to answer the intercom (that's not really meant to ring too often because "friends know the code".)

J just told me that her and JP won't be at home tomorrow night, birthday party, I am assuming that this has been planned for a while, fancy telling me this in advance. I am putting the kids to be at 8.30 sharp.

I love my family, I love my family, I love my family! See what spending four days with the sand sea and clouds does to ya! It wasn't that bad actually, it was good to get away, I didn't even miss my laptop and look at what I got to see!

A Bientot!

Fat Lady Has Started The Intro

2010-02-24T11:19:00.000-08:00

Ok I still have to wear a coat outside and am developing another bloody cold but the end is nigh (the end of the cold weather that is) and as spring approaches and winter fades away some things don't change. But some things will.

I told the family that I shall be leaving them early July, they took it OK although I could see that J was moved, I know that it's early days but I wanted them to be prepared to look for someone else. J said that she wan't sure whether she could do the experience again and that it is too difficult for the children. Funny, as an au pair now, I know that I couldn't have different people coming in and out of my children's life, she is worried about breaking the news to Frederic. They did suggest that I wait for him to grow up and then I would be allowed to leave. I declined.

My Korean friend has taken to calling me mum, he is such an idiot, I am so glad I met him, we are like brother and sister. He is insane like me and gives wicked massages that I bully him into performing, he is after every and any girl in a skirt but is harmless. We are planning a trip to a town called Orange, sounds like a strange strange place.

J and JP are like puppies in mating season, I would be disgusted but I find them too cute, their love is still strong and even when they snap at each other they use "'mon amour' you're wrong."

I am still happy, still meeting people and still far king single. I'm liking it at the moment though, it's kinda fun, I can play the flirting game without hurting people's feelings even if nothing does come of it.

La vie est belle!

I have been offered to have a night of leisure, a guy wants to wait on me hand and foot, I'll just not let him get too close to my feet, I haven't had a pedi since december!

Getting Up

2010-02-19T13:01:00.000-08:00

Falling is easy, getting up is the hard part, am up and at them.
I am in a strange mood, I think that when I fell down the stairs some of my brain cells must have been jolted!

One week with the kids full time and I think I deserve a medal, a cash prize. a cookie? And will my prince in shining armour arrive sometime soon, this is getting loooooonnnnnnnnnnnngggg.

Rugby guy is making me laugh, I never knew Georgian's had game. He is now currently facebook stalking my photos and has invited me to some national football matches. Oh wait the stalking aint game but kudos for top seats at matches. I made it clear that if I went it would be just as a friend, I kinda wish I fancied him at least then I might have something to do.

I look a hot mess so I actually don't know why he is interested anyway, ok my hair is a mess, body is banging...or bangable (oops let's stay PG 13).

I understand those who say my children are my life, my children are literally my life. Nothing to do, so bored!
I'm meeting the shot sipper for coffee tomorrow, should be a laugh...again, why don't I fancy him, he is decent enough right? Oh no, he sips shots! I wonder if he is going to sip his expresso tomorrow?

Instead I kinda think my HD is kinda cute. lol! But I know why I don't like anybody......

Love is black

2010-02-18T13:31:00.001-08:00

I can’t believe it has been three weeks since I last blogged.

I am 25, the countdown has been and gone and I am still as messy, indecisive and crazy as I was before, now I have an SLR camera to capture my moments of madness.

My family came for my birthday, it was fantastic. We stayed in the hotel next to Lyon’s version of Hyde Park, Parc de la Tete d’or may trump London’s as it has giraffes and you can go rowing. The apartment had two balconies that couldn’t really be enjoyed due to the snow that would not cease for prayer or cursing. A bedroom assigned to the parents far away from the living room we kids shared meant a pleasant nights sleep away from the harmonious snoring of the parental symphony.

Sitting in the sauna my sister told me of her good news, I couldn’t sit still and every time I looked at her I smiled…prayers do come true.

Friday, the day before the big day we marched around the streets of Lyon and even visited the famous Fouviere. Within minutes of stepping off the airport shuttle bus we all started winding each other up, it was funny though, I missed it!

Dinner at L’est (some big wigs restaurant). I decided to go to eat the night before my birthday and keep the actual day simple, plans can go awry and I didn’t want stress myself. The food was lovely and I got a special song for my birthday. We all had a good time although the family was rather tired from waking up for the Easyjet flight at 4am but you gotta do what you gotta do huh!

My brother and I parted ways with the other three to party the night away…I was overdressed and I knew it, I normally am but it’s my birthday and I’ll overdress if I want to. There was an awkward mix of characters but everyone got along, from the Italian guy my Polish friend and I had met the other day who sipped shots to the rugby played who turned up with a heart-shaped necklace. (I’m in trouble)

The big day arrived and I started it off early. I wanted my family to enjoy the big day as much as I planned it; nothing was going to ruin it. I suppose that is why I didn’t invite any friends for the big day; I can almost always rely on my family when I say that it is something important they are there. No friends were there to celebrate with me the week before and while maybe last year I would have been upset. This year I am glad I knew what to expect!

I received handmade cards from the children that I had taught at Annabel’s school and I almost started to cry, you don’t really know how much of an effect you have on people. I love that feeling of making other people happy. I am o happy at the moment, my energy levels are up, I am playing football and basketball with the kids, we have a new gorgeous puppy (another animal has been added to the farm).

There’s no other way to describe how I feel but content!

Love is back!

Energy

2010-02-04T12:14:00.000-08:00

I'm ill.

I never really get ill, but my body has been weak for a while now. I don't like being sick because I am an even moanier cow than normal. My host mum thinks I have 'l'air triste', I told her that no one is happy when they are ill.

The family are going away for the weekend, host dad's birthday. There will be 14 children and 24 people in total. I opted out. I would have loved to have gone if it was only my adopted family as we are growing closer and closer. Fred reached for my hand last week and we seem to be inseparable now. He now not only lets me wipe his bum, but also his nose...I have taught him how it should really be done. Rev up all the energy that you can muster and blow with all the force that you got.

I am going to meet up with friends and try to make the most of my weekend, perhaps take a run on the treadmill and bring my energy levels back up. I am going to a brocante and may take a short trip to St Etienne, a city not far from Lyon.

My usual fall back vehicle is kaput so I now have no personal means of transport.
If my host mum thought that I was depressed before, wait til she sees me four weeks later without a car.

I can't actually remember the last time that I sang in my room,perhaps host mum is right?

All in all life is very good. I am unfortunately very unwell (probably in my head) but I am alive.

a toute a l'heure.

15 Again

2010-02-01T23:42:00.000-08:00

I love humble people, I live with two of the most humble people that I have ever met and although they have money coming out of every orifice, it's not an issue.

What I mean by it is not an issue is that the world and their aunty does not need to know about their wealth. I got to thinking about the people I know when I bid a 'friend' a happy new year, I didn't like the response. We hadn't yet passed the first three weeks of the new year and the response that I received was as if I said it to in June.

This 'friend' has always been arrogant , I suppose one of the things that drew me to them in the first place, I kind of looked up to them, the confidence and the swagger has an allure.

As I get older many things are changing, body, image, interests, views and opinions. I am getting real comfortable with myself, and while I have never lacked self confidence perhaps I wasn't truly comfortable. If you know me and think that I didn't give a damn before, well now I really don't give much thought to what people's opinions are of me, as long as I am not hurting anyone, I will continue to do my thing.

As 25 approaches, I feel myself drawing closer to a younger me, full of spirit and sassiness, energy and drive ambition and commitment. I'm excited.

Lost and Found

2010-01-22T13:17:00.000-08:00

I just had a really good night, I was cool calm and collected. I was with my three favourite people. I was with the kids. Never thought you'd hear me say that did you?

We just finished watching Alvin and the Chipmunks, I normally leave the kids and run off to do whatever I have to do but it was fun translating the film that I had bought Fred for Christmas from English to French.

The children loved it and so did I, it was a good movie.

It was in the middle of this film while that I realised something.

I'm sure that I'm not the only one who loves finding things once forgotten or thought lost. I find bits and bobs everywhere, my jewellery discarded in unworn coat pockets, essential mint tasting lip balm from America(only thing that works on my lips) in an unused bag. Dental floss in the back of a cupboard (I'd been looking for that for ages). But the most precious thing that I've recently claimed back is my sense of humour.

I've also found some unwanted things, hair in places......People that I don't wish to associate with. I think I've found my voice again, watch out guys, am ready to chew your ear off.

Nighty Night!

PS, the children are still hmmm how can I put this delicately....I can't, they are spoilt but I can handle them.... or lock them in their room (only joking- I only do that when their parents are not in hahahahaha)

Feeling Good

2010-01-20T07:11:00.000-08:00

Wednesdays used to be my favourite day of the week, my day off as J doesn't work so she keeps the children busy. I fill my time with French classes in the morning and give English lessons in the afternoon, which keeps me busy up until 4pm.

I teach four kids in total and am making some nice pocket money from it. One of my students, a 10-year old boy is so enthusiastic, a real teachers pet. Every time I teach him I feel good, I'm actually doing something, hopefully having a positive influence on his future.

I can be kind of hard on my students, but I don't want their parents to feel as if they are wasting their money, by the end of the next six months, they need to be able to hold a very basic conversation.

It has been raining all day, but I have been in an incredibly good mood, I think that things can only get better. Maybe it's because my pockets are a bit heavier now, or maybe I just walked past a mirror and caught my reflection (some of you will get it).

I may be going to the cinema today, if I get to borrow the car. I don't mind seeing a film by myself, there's a first time for everything right. My friends are starting to fear for my wellbeing due to my latest blogs but, what did we all expect? Of course there are times that I will be down, I am away from all that I know for 10 months, I'm going to get down.

The clouds have parted and as the rays of sunlight pierce through my window, I smile and think bring it on.

Some things are better left unsaid...or are they?

2010-01-19T06:34:00.000-08:00

Things that one should keep in their head are listed below

Lose weight

Please eat, the emaciated look is so 2006

Don't ever wear that while you are out in public with me

I really don't like you that much but you're the only person in this room that doesn't smell

Do you ever stop talking?

I would only go out with you if you were the last person in earth then I may consider killing myself but why waste the pretty.

No, No and categorically no.

Why don't we just be fake together and pretend that we like each other yay!

I'm wondering if I should tell certain people how I feel about them, hmmm, probably wouldn't go down too well, but then I wouldn't have to pretend that some phantom hacker logged into my fb and deleted all the names beginning with M.

Anyway, these are just some of the things that pop into my crazy little head.

Feel free to add.

Life is a cup to be filled not drained

2010-01-19T04:40:00.001-08:00

The last few weeks have been difficult and I'm glad that I have been writing this blog and I have had a revelation. What a moany b*** I am.

I'm a slow learner, no really, I am a slow learner. I stick to things that are destined to fail and don't make them work for me. I am the sort of carpenter who doesn't own an electric drill but slaves away taking twice as long to finish something or waking up earlier. I'm the cook who doesn't have an oven so puts the cake out in the sun. What I am trying to say is that I don't exactly use my options and there are so many.

Third week into this new year and I have done nothing but complain. Now you well and truly know that I am not going to stop, however, I shall stop moaning about the same things, it is starting to get boring even for me.

I have been reading some inspirational quotes, some are great, some have me on the floor rolling.

'Life is so short, we must move very slowly', I get the message but at the same time I have an image of us all walking around like zombies. It has lifted my mood.

I think that I only have one resolution for this year and I am making it now, if you don't like it, change it or the way you look at it, whatever happens, something has got to change.

Might take myself to the hairdressers on Thursday and wash all of this negativity out of my hair.

Misery LOVES company.... but I don't

2010-01-17T02:24:00.000-08:00

I am rediscovering the Christina Aguilera 'Stripped album', I love that album, every song was great, not such a fan of 'Back to Basics' though.

The beginning of this week saw the snow begin to thaw and the city began to warm up and the children start to play up. I gave Fred the last Kinder Suprise as a snack and Annabel almost had a fit. It was supposedly really unfair of me to give her younger brother of four years the last piece of chocolate that was bought specifically for him. She had had enough and was going to ask her parents to find them a new au pair.

Two weeks after getting back from my family and friends at christmas and I could personally think of better places that I would like to be so I told her to go ahead. The other two children protested but the au pair herself had had enough.

We didn't actually speak about the event afterwards and everybody kind of moved on, but as the little jibes mount, I wonder when I will reach the end of my tether. I do feel a lot more closer to the children, especially Fred who tries to involve me in everything he does from pooing to playing. He cuddles me and I love it. But I do get tired of the daily arguments between them.

Why can't we all just get along?

Some people say that FB is evil is it? The main purpose is to connect people right? Well what if some people are meant to stay disconnected.

Am kinda fed up of the girls here too, they are so fake, I guess I am too. We went to see Avatar and it was ok. But I should have gone and seen it alone. We have planned to go out and get drunk next weekend yay! One of them is leaving as her sejour is over. I am jealous. But then I think to myself, why? What is there to look forward to in England?

I can count on one hand the amount of genuine people that I know, I may even have some fingers left after that. I can't seem to lift this dark cloud that has been hanging over me and I hate it. I am a relatively positive person but my spirits definitely need a lifting.

How?

Sayings and signs

2010-01-10T10:01:00.000-08:00

I'm finding it difficult to settle, my feet are well and truly itchy? Why all of a sudden do I have this urge to jump up and leave, pack and get away. Lay on a beach somewhere and sleep, sleep for a week and awake to find that the world is probably still as messed up as it was when I left it.

They say pain is beauty

I'm in so much pain

They say life's a B***

I say I am that B***

They say love hurts

I say it doesn't have to

They say still waters run deep

and that you don't miss your water til your well runs dry

I say I'm not that thirsty

They say absence makes the heart grow stronger

oh they do say a load of BS don't they!

I am trying to grow up, make choices that make me happy while also considering others, I know that you cannot always avoid hurting everyone but how is it that most of the time you hurt yourself. I like walking into open minefields and when things blow up in my face I don't change direction, I go deeper.

I was looking to build on two relationships this year and one has been eliminated already.....but the signs were there from the very beginning. Oh but how I love a challenge, don't we all girls. Now where do I find my next working progress?

Why should I be sad?

2010-01-10T05:36:00.001-08:00

I've never understood those who air out their dirty laundry, who announce their misery and solitude on Facebook, but then sometimes I understand and while they express their emotions in a status update, I bore people to death in a few hundred words.

I think that I have been watching a bit too much S&TC and an email finally brought me back to earth. What is the difference between being in love and loving someone? I love you but I'm not in love with you = I don't want to be with you. So what has love really got to do with it? Erase the love and just say what you mean and mean what you say. I've seen films and read books where this phrase has been used and always find it kinda funny when I hear or read it. As an adult (yes I am) you begin to understand the complication of relationships and well erm it's not so funny now huh?

I'm listening to 'The Sherry Dixon Show' and they are talking about getting back with an ex, is it ever a good idea? Normally once I am really done and dusted with someone, I can't go back, the feelings just never are the same as they were before.

But still tears are shed, even if it is over spilt milk. Is it possible to cry a river, maybe when it turns out that you're not 'The one'. Then again sometimes a good cry is all you need, forget the song all you need is love, all you need is a good cry dun dun dun dun.

From the lows to the highs, I am pleased to say that I still see love all around me, I'm going to be a bridesmaid.....there is hope, so why should I be sad?

Wine, wine whine!

2010-01-09T04:25:00.000-08:00

I think I am addicted to this blogging thing, even if noone cares about what I am writing, I have always enjoyed writing about whatever and whoever, I'm addicted, OR maybe I just have nothing else to do.

I have been snowed in for two days now and all plans to hit the French sales have been abandoned. (But I need some heavy duty gloves). So I'm in with the family for the weekend. I am very 'lucky' to be taken everywhere the family are invited, some of my fellow au pairs don't get the chance to travel with theirs but mine are really welcoming. Sometimes though, I just don't want to go. When J suggested walking in 10inch snow, my enthusiasm fell to the same degree as the temperature outside.

The night with the family at the maternal grandparents home did go rather well, good food, wine, champagne and an open fire. The children were occupied by a film and I had the chance to practise my French, with adults.

As I helped clear up, J's brother followed me in and we started tidying. We had an interesting conversation about racism, he is well travelled and lived in Italy for three years. Once on the train in Italy he was sat amongst five strangers, one black. Four started chanting racist slurs at the black man. He asked me if everything had been OK for me here in France and I said that I had been lucky so far. He gave me his number and told me we should do lunch sometime, at that moment his wife walked in and for some reason I felt guilty, maybe because although I met her first she had not been as inviting as he. I find that with a lot of the French women J introduces me to. She looks at me weird too, but I hope that she knows she has nothing to worry about, I call him my uncle for goodness sakes.

Back at the table I was feeling very comfortable and even more so with every sip of the Brut, that was until they asked me to sing. Turns out that people have been listening at my bedroom door as I belt out Jennifer Hudson and Neyo at the weekend. Note to self, turn the music up so I can't be heard. JP and J had told everyone that I can sing and now as all eyes fell on me, I felt the pressure, another mouthful of Brut down the hatch!

Why could I only think of songs from Oliver Twist, I sang who will buy this wonderful morning, it went down well, I am considering a professional career in dinner table entertainment.

As my stomach resettled I thought about how I would soon, be mixing my family with their's, should be interesting. J has expressed her fears of having the family round for my birthday, she is worried about her standard of English and trying to hold a coversation with my parents may prove difficult for her. She was however very enthusiastic about me taking them to a museum.............cue silence. None of my family will be interested! We are very similar in many ways, but also complete opposites, like I said, this should be interesting.

I have managed to sneak a couple of hours to myself, bliss, pure and unadulterated bliss. The family and guests have gone sledging, I dipped out at the last minute, no I didn't feign injury, no tiredness, I was brutal and said. Je ne pas envie.

Happy New Year?

2010-01-07T11:44:00.000-08:00

On the plane I tried to fight back the tears as I loosened the scarf I had wound tightly around my neck, it smelt like...comforting. I knew and loved that smell. I tried to sleep for most of the journey, tried to forget what I was leaving and perhaps losing.

As I descended the plane I was greeted by snow, the cold wind whipped my face and I pulled the scarf tighter til I could almost taste that familiar scent, I wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible, for in a week it would be gone and maybe forgotten, my first precious gift of the year.

I don't know what it is but now that I am back in La France, I am really looking forward to the next seven months. Maybe it is the challenge of not returning home and really focusing on studying this language, maybe I'm a masochist and I like to be tortured by French children alone in a country house full of caged animals, which when let loose...bite ( far king parrot).

My family should be visiting me next month for my 25th, I have nothing planned....yet They will be staying with me in this fortress, I wonder how that will all pan out.

The rugby player asked me out again for a drink....and somehow I forgot how to say no in French, ah there it is 'non'. I know that soon after my rejection, within three months he will be coupled up with a gf of his own. I feel like 'good luck chuck'. Two of the guys that I rejected last year have started the new year with girlfriends. I am not in the least jealous, in fact, I am rejoicing in the fact that I will not have to ignore another text from them.

I am however wondering when a certain someone will realise that I am the one! I feel so Carrie Bradshaw, but instead of Manhattan, erm I am in a little village not far from Lyon. Perhaps the only thing remotely Carrie Bradshaw about me is my inappropriate shoe collection.

This time last year I was still on my transatlantic jaunt. I should have probably started my blog then with all the things that happened to me last year but hey, there is more to come.

My friends should also be joining me in the month of February, but am I being too pessimistic in expecting most of them to fall out at the last minute. I have already been disappointed by some of my nearest and dearest just days into 2010, but deep within, I think that I half expected it.

Coming back to France, I set myself some targets, visit my friend in Aix, move up from group four to group five (french classes) by March, save save and save some more.

Back at the Institut (where I take French classes) I reunited with my 'friends', we had a lot to talk about, clearly some more than others. One had received the keys to her then'presque petit ami's'(almost boyfriend) flat, now definitely petit ami. One was still undecided between two men and a third had broken up with her boyfriend and decided to start a relationship with a married man. The usual looks of disapproval followed this announcement but there was the lack of a gasp of shock from me. These are the females that I kinda fear (and I am not even married yet). No regard for the sanctity of marriage. She explained that he was not happy in his relationship and was not at all disturbed by the situation. They have planned romantic weekends together even though she 'thinks'that it is just a fling. I could say that I am not one to judge but I am and she has seriously gone down in my estimations. I still cannot fathom how humans hurt each other the way they do. What happened to do unto others as you would have done unto you.

At the house, second day into mon travail (work) I am walking through the snow to the chicken pen. Water bowl in hand, I cringe as I open the door hanging slightly crooked with bits of barbed wire, preventing the chickens from escaping their monotonous life of, crapping and waiting to be fed. How I ended up being the one to accompany the children to feed these creature I don't know as I strongly recall asking J who would be expected to look after their many animals, she told me it was her and the children. I believe I kept that email....should I lay it innocently on her pillow? They have now added a rabbit and another parrot and large dog are soon to arrive. I am feigning allergies if this ish continues.

Thursdays and Fridays are my favourite days, peace and calm in the house as I come home early from classes and am alone to do what I like to do best, nothing! Imagine my despair when I hear that school is cancelled for the children and my only getaway route is not working tomorrow. Thanks a lot snow, like Delilah you're very pretty to look at but perhaps a lot more trouble that you are worth.

Noel Noel

2009-12-31T13:45:00.000-08:00

I am constantly battling with what or how I think things should be and then find it difficult to cope when the reality actually hits.

December 22nd, with a heavy luggage in hand, black boots that were made for walking (for five minutes) and a black beret on my head, I sat at Lyon airport. Everything had gone smoothly and I was more than excited to be flying home for Christmas, I had even managed to sneak some oversized perfume through security. Easyjet are known for their lateness so, at 9.50pm I wasn’t panicking that we hadn’t been called to board yet the 10.20 flight.

Humming along to John Legend, I heard some groans from other awaiting passengers, I took my earphones out and heard in plain English that our flight had been cancelled due to adverse weather conditions in the London. My worst fear realised, how could this be happening, I mean, I’m a good person, (most of the time) why me?

As I fought back the tears I thought of my dashed plans and all my excitement drained out of me. If my swearing vocabulary had expanded in French, I would have sworn like an English and French sailor. I bit my lip and text my sister, I was more than disappointed but not as disappointed as I was to learn that there were no flights going out the next day and I would have to wait until the 24th. I didn’t want to go back to the house, as everyone knows, I love the family, but I really wanted to be with my own family and friends.

As I lay my head down on the soft hotel sheets I felt irritated, next to me wasn’t the young tall dark and handsome guy of my dreams but a sweet Chinese girl who had decided like me, to fly from Grenoble to London in the morning. Easy jet had got us a free room, and get this breakfast too but they were unwilling to change my flight to fly from another city. I paid over 100eur for this ticket. By 12am 23rd I was nervous and stressed, was my flight going to take off later that day or would Easyjet cancel this flight too.

Funny thing is, I heard that the sun was shining in England………for once.

I think we need some time apart.....

2009-12-17T23:33:00.000-08:00

Ok so he's told me that he loves me, but that does not excuse his behaviour, anyway, he takes it back now and again so I don't know if I believe him, I think we need some time apart.

Frederic, Coralie, Louise and I definitely need some time apart, seeing them day in and day out is even becoming too much for their parents, I don't think anyone would think me rash if I called in supernanny. I'm sure there is an equivalent for the English word 'Discipline'in French oh yeah it's 'Discipline'and under the same Oxford Hatchette definition there appears a key word, which can work hand in hand if applied appropriately to help keep children in line, any guesses??? Here's a clue 'Punition'(punishment).

Coralie has a penpal in Burkina Faso, let me stress this now that this is a Francophone (French speaking) African country. I come from an old English colony.
J and Coralie were not sure the sex of the penpal and J wondered if I did. 'Do you know?' she asked me, to which I swiftly replied 'I don't think so' she proceeded to read out a name that sounded as foreign to my ears as hers. 'erm no', I repeated dryly (Just as you wouldn't know if Czeslaw was a boy or girl even though it is European I thought sarcastically).

People need to realise that even within my country languages vary greatly, I continued to explain that our languages are very different and that she would probably be closer to knowing the sex than me. I was offended and that couldn't be hidden.

I'm off to Geneva for the weekend and can't wait, it's the first of my travels that I have planned for myself. Off with two girls from Hungary. We celebrated one of their birthdays one night in Vieux Lyon. En route I was accosted by a drunk French boy, to whom I spoke not a word of French. He then proceeded to try to speak English ('You are very beautiful) Thanks I thought, I'll make sure that my parents and God know what you think of their creation but, I really don't think much of you in that state.

I think that France and I also need some time apart, I am fed up of the drunk men, dirty men, I would just say men.....but that's some way off. But at least it has been signed sealed and verified by the drunken male public of Lyon, I am beautiful.

Lyon itself is beautiful, even more so during the Festival of Lights. Celebrated each year in December the Lyonais thank Mary (mother of Jesus) for saving them from some sort of plague or something (was only half listening when J explained to me) by alluminating the city. (I like to keep my blog very simple but for the purposes of illustrating the beauty of this please find below an appropriate picture)

I went out with my friend to a kebab shop before hitting the town. We treated ourselves to full fat coke (I only drink full fat, what's the point of diet?). She proceeded to drop the bomb 'You're my first black friend and this is the first time that I have been out with a black person', nothing shocks me anymore though, I gathered that they didn't have many 'Blacks' in Poland and was not in the least bit offended. It was nice to have someone so genuine and warm in my midst. She was fascinated by my hair and the different styles that I had on my facebook. She asked me my preference in men, which led me to think about the rubbish Man-o-Man show where ladies would get rid of the male contestants that they didn't want by pushing them into the swimming pool. I have recently pushed a few guys into the pool (figuratively speaking) and was wondering if I had a specific taste. My taste I would say is varied, I only want a few things, committment, respect, honesty, fun fun fun fun, aspirations and I love an intelligent man is that too much to ask...well all at once I guess. Numero uno is personality so yes my preference may not lie in looks but in a man knowing where he's been and where he wants to go. Ok he gotta be cute.

At one point in the last few weeks, I thought that I had become more forgiving, you can't really stay angry at a child for too long and I suppose my patience has grown, I am learning how to cook new foods and am trying things that I have never tried before. It's been a while but I have oh so much to say, christmas is here and I cannot wait to go home, the children are driving me up the wall and I am itching to see my friends and family again.

The difference between me and you

2009-12-04T04:31:00.001-08:00

It's the way you hold yourself, the way that you walk and it's your skin....

I wasn't surprised to hear this sentence come out of my brother's mouth, you see I had only been in Nigeria for a couple of days and I was getting accustomed to the curious stares. In my own country I was a freshy, my accent was different and so were my clothes, thank God, so was my smell.

So the driver had explained it all to my brother, we were clearly different from the rest of our countrymen in many ways but mostly externally.
This idea was reinforced by a visit to the dentist. We were seen within five minutes of entering the building and there was a long queue. My father's connections meant that we were in and out within 30 minutes.

"You don't look Nigerian and you definitely don't sound Nigerian" said the young dentist who's fingers had been delicately probing my mouth for the last five minutes.
He seemed excited yet slightly anxious as he informed me that this was his first time performing a cleaning. He tried to reassure me as he saw my facial expression become more strained. As I grabbed the chair he gabbled on about how important my father, brother and I must be to have been seen so quickly....he seemed nice enough but I have grown so skeptical of people that I half expected him to ask for my number and then a few weeks down the line a call for $500 dollars to be wired over for his sick mother. When did I grow so cynical?

I did feel sweet though having this attention, people stared as we left the building and said goodbye to the dentists. I always try to make sure that whereever I go I show my appreciation, I hate the idea of people seeing me as a snooty person but the fact is that many people here are, give them a little bit of money and they forget that we are all equals.

Nigeria, a country keen on respect obvious in the greetings of the young towards the old lacks major fundamental principals......

It is traditional to dance behind a loved ones coffin and as we paraded Big Mummy in the streets of Mokola, faces approached their windows and doors to watch the scene. The male grandchildren carried her down the street wearing matching waistcoats and shirts swaying to the sound of the talking drum beat. We followed the hearse, We watched her leave the home that she had created together with her husband for the very last time. She was to be buried on top of my grandfather, I couldn't help but think how poetic that was.

Even at the church they wouldn't stop harassing us, the paparazzi kept snapping, I don't know who told them but by the time we reached the open fields where the celebration of life was to continue, the paparazzi were there again, with all the pictures developed.....all of us, my father, mother, sister, brother and I.

The real fun began as they harrassed us to buy the photos, shooing them was out of the question, they were there to make some money from this and they had somehow figured out who had the deepest pockets.

While children are taught to respect their elders, elders don't really think to respect their children. We had servers helping with food but I still found myself attending to people. I had had enough when one man simple said 'excuse me...water' I looked at him in disbelief and probably swallowed a couple of mosquitos as my mouth laid wide open. No 'please', no, 'could you', just 'water' He was sitting at the table with my family so I could tell he was one of my parent's guest nevertheless I did look him up and down and ignored the fool. Dude didn't you know I'm English when it comes to manners. My brother had also heard and expressed his own surprise. Nigerians!! They say that you can't teach a dog new tricks, I'm a proud B even now as an au pair, and I don't allow anyone to look down at me even if it is an old dog.

That's the difference between me and you, I will respect the tramp on the street to the chief in the village if they are so deserving. So whoever thinks that they are a God amongst us............. please get rid of my scars from thos frikin mosquito bites. lol!

Fishy

2009-11-29T13:01:00.000-08:00

I think I'm a fish, no seriously, in the bigger scheme of things, I am a fish and I have to wait til I get caught right? I mean, others around me are getting caught and if I get the chance to bite that worm (lol) I get chucked back in......or do I let go?

I could pick the petals off a flower saying 'he loves me, he loves me not'and even if I arrived at 'he loves me' the flower doesn't decide, he does?

Countless relationships around me have occured as a result of the guy chasing the girl. So many of my friends have reluctantly said yes, or were not too keen at first, the ones that chased, well history tells me that they are doomed.

I dunno, I like a good chase now and again but my old age is making me lazy, should I just wait til I am caught....ok ok, I must be open and upon catching sight of the fisherman don't let go straightaway.

In all honesty, I'm just not interested in fishing so right now I'll leave the ocean and soar into the sky, single, sexy and free!

Watch out for the vultures

I am Britico, mistakenly born in Nigeria

2009-11-22T04:49:00.000-08:00

I'm in love...... again......John Legend's Evolver album has some songs that have my head spinning in a fantasy, lyrics such as 'I know that we just met but could you love me quickly...'throw me into a realm of lust, I lust after love.

I bought the CD after perusing the shelves of HMV at Heathrow terminal 4, it was the second time within the last 24 hours that I was at Heathrow. The night before, the majority of my family (meaning without the boss lady-mum as I now call her after this trip) returned from Nigeria on a relatively pleasant flight with Arik Air.

The visit to Nigeria was a farewell to my grandmother who passed away on the 17th September, I was on holiday at the time celebrating a friends 25th when I received a 2-day old text from my sister announcing the news. I was shocked to say the least and although I knew she was old and had been threatening to leave us for a while, she was 'Big Mummy'who was always at the house in Mokola, who could still put me on her lap at the age of 90, who had come to London to look after us in the early 90s.

I vividly remember turning on my phone, I think it was the 19th (I always leave it off whilst on holiday but check for messages at times) and seeing the words, they seemed to dance across the screen of my Blackberry 8210. 'Big Mummy is dead'were the words my sister had sent, or all I could make out. The silence that ensued probably only lasted two seconds, but it was a sharp contrast to the laughter that had filled the room only seconds before. I screamed 'no' several times, threw my phone, ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. In fits of tears I started to slide down the wall as I loss all sense of how dirty that place actually was. Why did she have to go I thought selfishly.

Tears fill my eyes now as I think of Big mummy. I am one of 34 grandchildren, the middle child of her eight and last child. She lost two of them in her lifetime, so four of my cousins are orphans. My closest cousins have adopted my own parents as their own and I don't mind sharing because that's what family do. The funeral was like a reunion as we all met to celebrate the life of this brilliant woman who was still making money and providing an income at the age of 92.

The trip was short but invigorating in the sense that I had a renewed enthusiasm for life and what I could do with my own talents. I saw the opportunities that my parents had given me by leaving Nigeria in may 1991 for London. I also wondered what I would have been, would I be this same person, outspoken, bubbly and slightly crazy, would I be downtrodden by the challenges of life in Nigeria, or would I be the spoilt rich brat that I felt my cousins thought me to be?

Being one of the youngest out of the cousins meant that most of the others are married with children or engaged. I marvelled at the different relationships that I saw around me and was encouraged by the blatant show of love between these couples. I remember sitting outside, with my cousin who now lives in America with his wife and beautiful daughter. He told his memories of my parent's wedding day, of how instead for waiting for my pregnant mother who had just lost her father a few days earlier to walk down the aisle, my father went to meet her halfway. He joked that he had chosen his own bride because she was petite and he wanted to do the same and carry her up the aisle

As he continued to talk with his brother's baby sleeping in his arms I learned many other things that I had not known about my family, good and bad. There and then I made a promise to choose carefully who I love and to fiercely protect my children (not in the crazy mum way), I grew excited about the future and a little sad about the past, his and his brother's past. Knowing that you can't trust everybody even family to look after your children is a shame, but that doesn't mean all is lost.

Like Pandora's box, what's left is hope, hope in the good people of the world.

TBC

Chez Moi

2009-11-16T21:49:00.001-08:00

Mum's birthday was literally round the corner, the big 5.0., there was no way that I would miss it and I had to look right too. So back to london I went and I did enjoy the party, when we finally got there....

The journey back to London was uneventful, but my throat constricted as I sat on the train to London Bridge, a strong feeling of nostalgia rose from my stomach as I remembered making that journey many a times. I leant back and thought of what the weekend would bring, little did I know what was instore.

My initial feeling of nostalgia was quickly replaced by regret, regret that I had bought a Gatwick Express ticket to London Bridge, the barriers were open and I could have walked straight through dagnamit! The salary of an au pair isn't a desirable renumeration and I am seriously penny pinching.

The next day, with an empty purse in tow, I proceeded to buy my extensions, apply the extensions at the salon at a bargain price, do my nails and buy an outfit...oh and mum's present too. By Friday 23rd 12pm all missions had been acomplished. The big day had arrived and all that was left was to pick up my brother and roll on out to the party.

We did roll...... slowly down the hill that constituted part of the roundabout in Canning Town, it turned out that all missions had not been completed and my brother still had to get his hair cut. It was a busy Friday afternoon in East London but as long as we were on the motorway by 4pm, we whould be fine.

It was 3pm, the P-reg Polo I was driving started jerking and stalled. Hmmm, perhaps it was me, I proceeded to turn on the engine and after several attempts, a lot of beeps from other drivers and a little persperation from me, it finally chugged to life, phew! Making our way barely 50 m along Barking Road the car stopped again. Hmmm not a good sign at 3.05pm and the fact that we were just pulling past a bus stop meant that we were in the way of an angry looking driver with a bus packed full of equally menancing looking passengers.I have obviously lived in London too long as that didn't phase me, I was more worried about getting to the party on time.

5 mins later the car still wouldn't start and well luckily we figured that the problem was simple, we were out of petrol. While my sister went to get flowers for the party, my friend and I started our walk to the petrol station, oh the shame.

Halfway there we decided that we had no time to lose, so she returned to the car and I hopped on a bus to Greeengate. I managed to get some petrol for double the price because I also had to buy the container (argh). I then had to top up my oyster. So by now I was 15 pounds down but I had learned to always check that there is petrol in the car that I am driving, even if it isn't mine.

Petrol can in hand I thought to myself, Ok, perhaps someone will offer me a lift. My new regime has me looking leaner, maybe someone will take pity on me (or find me really hot) and drive me back to my car......I guess not and I should have known better because I cannot remember the last time I was offered anything more than verbal harrassment from the male species. Just when I had lost hope, a rather dashing young brother looked me up and down, noticing the petrol he commented 'broken down'? 'Yes, ran out of petrol' I replied, he smiled and...........that was it. Yes, seriously. I jumped on the 115, direction broken down car. We were on the M11 by 4.15 and I still managed to look fan far king tastic in the 30 minutes it took me to get ready. Oh what a night.

You've got to roll with it

2009-11-05T00:00:00.000-08:00

The cold concrete felt rough against my right hand and I could feel my skin react as it grazed the hard wall. I was trying to teach myself how to ride a bike, for the very second time in two weeks. 1, 2, 3, 4. I managed (with one hand on the wall) to balance…well that’s a start as I couldn’t really get on the last time. I didn’t much like this bike, it had this foothold thingamajig that made it even more difficult for a beginner to get on. So, I was now balancing, ok, can I roll? I applied pressure to my right foot, then to my left and so it continued…now did I have the courage to let go of the wall?

I didn’t that time but the second time round I did, I was surprised at how easy it was to roll with it (was it Blur or Oasis that sang that?).

I was inspired to make a second attempt at the bike riding thing after a trip to the tennis courts with Coraline, she insisted we take the bikes and their mother was very enthusiastic too, she is keen on Coraline getting as much exercise as possible and I seem to have become her personal trainer.

So off we went to fetch the bikes, I was filled with dread, wtf do I do? Maybe it will be easy. Quick try and get on while her back is turned….unsucessful…ok feign an injury…..no, how long would I have to carry that on for.

As Coraline hopped on, I rolled the bike towards the front gates. ‘Is the bike ok?’ She asked, ‘a little too high' I lied (why do adults hate humility, just tell her you can’t ride the damn thing). She showed me how to adjust it. Hmmm what to do now?

Coraline peddled smoothly down the country lane while I grabbed the handlebars and followed swiftly. There was no way that I was going to roll down that hill. Well not on the bike anyway.

Today, I had an audience, all the animals in the garden were looking at me, even that bloody donkey, they watched with amusement as I did a successful tour of the expansive garden. I felt relieved……I knew that I could do it.

Le vieux Homme (the old man)

2009-10-19T12:32:00.000-07:00

I was lucky to see her again, twice in one year, I fell in love all over again. 'France in all it's glory' The good, the bad and the children. 'These children are spoilt' said J. You're telling me I thought, but smiled tightly teeth clenched avoiding her eyes so that I did not give away too much of what I thought.

J looked harrassed, I was meant to be there to help them but that wasn't easy as the children always looked to her. The outsider of the family, literally the black sheep as I followed the herd around 'le jardin des plantes' that warm saturday morning in Paris.

That saturday I met him, I don't know why I had imagined a kind face, rosy cheeks. I was greeted by a greying man with a foul habit and a lack of manners.

If that old B called me 'la jeune fille'again I swear I'd make him choke on his cigarette. He addressed me directly as 'vous' and seemed to struggle to make eye contact. He could cook a mean stew though but I felt ncomfortable, I thanked him for the meal and helped to clear the table on my day off, no thanks or kind words from him Mutha Far Car. I was overjoyed when J refused his invitation for me to stay in the room at his flat expressing her wish for me to be close to the family even if it did mean C and I would be on the couch. (she probably had the smae fear as me, he may kill me in my sleep).

He coughed often and brutally, the effects of smoking for decades. The cough was not the only effect that the fags had on him, his teeth could luminate a room and perhaps even the 'Lyon Festival of Lights' with the array of colours in his mouth predominatly being yellow, there were also aspects of brown in between and perhaps green (am I being mean, perhaps...it's my blog and I'll Bitch if I want to), it hurt my eyes like the coloured bulbs we used to use in Nigeria. With each violent cough, I grew concerened, not for his health because I frankly didn't give a damn, but I was convinced that the stew he had prepared would make a second appearance and I wasn't especially looking forward to that free spectacle.

J and JP, were probably finding out that their friends really aren't as nice as they themselves are. Some have been incredably welcoming and some give me a non comittal and weak smile. What do I do? I smile back and think FU or as the french would say NTM while they probably think Black profiteur.

J's sister in law told me one day how wonderful the family are and that I am lucky to have found such a family, I agree they are wonderful, especially the parents, but did she realise how lucky they were to have found me? Believe me, you don't know what you've got til it's gone, a few people are finding that out now.

Bozart

2009-10-16T12:50:00.001-07:00

Yeah exactly, that’s what I first thought when I heard it in my French class. I in fact learned that what my teacher said was Beaux Arts (fine arts). What I heard was foreign (remind me, why do I want to learn French again?) Four and a half years later, when J and I were talking about museums, and she asked if I wanted to go to the fine arts museum, I understood what she meant.

Ok, I understood what she was talking about, well done me, but erm how did she arrive at the apparent fact that I liked museums, I mean I went to Paris and didn’t even visit the Louvre. I preferred the gardens of Versaille and I like architecture. How do I get out of this?

So come the Saturday we’re walking around Bellecour in search of the museum, the children are not interested and neither in fact am I, merde!

Lucky for me, the children’s insistence that they did not want to go and frequent stops along the way meant that we only went to a small museum cum wooden construction with a polystyrene tunnel. Yay kids.

Doctor’s Who?

2009-10-15T14:21:00.001-07:00

It is a known fact that the French women are regarded as the most chic, and probably the thinnest in Europe, don’t know why because they are forever eating bread and cheese. One of the teacher’s at the Institut (where I take language classes) looks like death, literally, that thing veiled in a cloak that haunted scrooge in a Christmas Carol, that’s what she looks like. I feel bad because she always smiles at me while puffing on a cigarette, boy these people like to smoke. But frankly, she scares me.

Later that same Friday, I laughed nervously as Jean-Pierre gave me directions and I crunched into 5th gear on the motorway. En route to Lyon, my first time on the motorway in France, I pondered….who am I going to kill today? Probably a good thing that Jean- Pierre was with me as I am not a very good driver even when I am driving on the left. Except for go-carting, I excel at running my friends off the track to gain first place.

We were going to pick up two of his interns, one from Syria and the other from Cote D’ivoire (Ivory Coast) from the hospital and as I was going out that night, the parents thought it best for me to drive into town so that I can stay later as the last bus leaves at 9pm (yes I live in the bush)! This was the trial run.

Mohamed was a round man not much taller than my 5”6 but he was friendly and gave me a warm handshake. Bienvenu, my brutha from another mutha, whom I expected to have shared some type of camaraderie being black an all, gave me a frigid smile and a cool handshake, he may as well as nodded his head as my brother sometimes does to me.

I didn’t like his outfit anyway, what kind of doctor wears tracksuit bottoms, and why did I think that they would be cute, I don’t do skinny anymore. ER is a myth, people like George Clooney are a very very fictional.

The warm afternoon sun stroked my back as we all sat gathered around the table in the expansive garden, I could get very used to this way of life I thought as Jeanne served up the grub. Bienvenu ate like a beast refusing to try the cheese and sniffed at the wine opting for the beer instead. An African like that, I cannot take.

Clearing the table with Janette, Bienvenu surprised me by taking some of the plates off me, he has a heart I thought, somewhere encased in ice at home perhaps. Either way, I was glad that he had not totally let me down and showed some appreciation for the hospitality.

The journey into Lyon was silent for the most part, I had opted to drop the interns into town and as we pulled into the parking lot we all started to loosen up, as if getting out of the car had given us some freedom of speech. The train ride was a lot better and Bienvenu even mocked me saying that French was easy, his thick accent made it hard for me to understand him at times but he didn’t tire of repeating himself. As we parted ways, we did the bise (kiss) as the French do and promised to all see each other again, but we all knew it was out of politeness.

Now, I had my hair did, heels on, leggings with a loose top cinched at the waist by a belt, tell me heads won’t turn tonight……………even if it is to say, what is she wearing?

Boulangerie

2009-10-15T13:41:00.001-07:00

I can still feel the sting of the dirty slap that Frederic gave me today, he likes to play rough and I still think it was unintentional unlike his attack earlier on today.

It all started well, I picked the children up from school and decided as I spend absolutely no money whatsoever to buy the typical French family some bread.
We seem to be forever munching on this and the children don’t seem to tire of eating it with every meal.

Parking the car/van was a task in itself but trying to coerce a 4-year old out of it was another. His sister said we could lock him in as we could see him. Louise and I stepped into the shop and could see Fred in the drivers seat turning on the light and we could hear him pressing the horn, all fun and games for him but humph, not for me.

At home we played, which we don’t normally do, Fred normally waits while I help Coralie with her homework. She seems to crave attention and her parents have decided that she must work alone. She didn’t, she could not focus and continued to disturb us every two minutes

Then Fred threw a tantrum as I started to help Coralie with her work, Annabel had already parted for her swimming lesson, she leads a very active life, even more so that I did when I had a life and she is 8.

A broken chair and a bruised ego was the scene that Jeanne interrupted. The chair, bien sur, hers and the ego of Fred's. That child tries to push me every day but I am not having it. Whoever said children are innocent doesn’t remember their own childhood as they are as crafty as they come.

Perhaps I could slip away and sleep. Erm No, for the third night this week, the parents were going out. Lucky me, no sleeps until 11 for the third night running….but I love my sleep I thought.

Beatles

2009-10-08T11:40:00.000-07:00

Beatles

‘I say yes….’ sang Coralie ‘you say no’ she continued..... erm no J I don’t know it, sorry erm. Yeah!

Ben it’s the Beatles. she shrieked.

But why does everyone think that just because I am English that I am going to like the group, I know about three songs of theirs and don’t much care for them. How many black people do you hear singing follow the yellow brick road….was that them? Whatever. I followed M. J (RIP). If I really want to get African, we listened to Sina Peters, King Suny Ade when I was young. In fact, I know more Abba songs than Beatles and they don’t even come from England.

So as I sat in the driving seat, J looked at me in disbelief although I hadn’t beaten any of her kids, it was unheard of not to know the song. I won’t tell her that I don’t think I even like the group, I don’t want to cause anymore alarm. Oh la la

Where am I?

2009-10-07T13:16:00.000-07:00

Oh no, mon dieu! My third day here and truly the first day of work and the blond lady sitting across from me was telling me that I had missed my stop. But what? Huh? How? For goodness sake, what is wrong with the French, why can’t they just speak English, where am I? Forget learning this French ish, where T F am I?

As she told me where I was and explained that I had took the wrong bus I grimaced, oh crap, now I have to call Janette embarrassing first, expensive second as I still didn’t have a French sim….oh and merde, les enfants.

It was 4.20 and I had to be at the school by 4.30.

But, the day before went Ok, I arrived on time, turned down the wrong road at first but I got there, now I wasn’t going to be able to do my job. Ah, why me?!

Janette came to get me and I explained that I had taken the 161 this morning and the other day, she repeated what she told me upon my arrival the first day. Faites attention the buses do not always stop at Morancé and that I had to take the 164. Now you tell me……again! Oops.

We went to get the children, half an hour later than usual and I was well and truly embarrassed, head bowed for most of the night! Janette later told me that it wasn’t too serious as it wasn’t as if I had left them in the street…..I wouldn’t manage to do that, would I?

From C to C

2009-10-06T13:39:00.000-07:00

After mummy, yes mummy dropped me off and went on her way the day after we arrived at this rustic country house, I have since sorted out my travel card, ‘Rhone Pass’, signed up to my language class, 'toute seule' but failed to sort out a sim card. I guess I find it a bit too ridiculous to pay 30euros for a sim card. Do we really have it that good in England?

Upon wiping Frederic's tusch, I figured the real work had begun the third day after my arrival, he said something about kaka. At four years old Fred tries to speak but I do not always understand, he is a sweet and a very cheeky little boy, whose smile enables you to forgive all. I soon understood what he meant when he pointed at his trousers, once he had finished he called me, bent over bum in air to allow me to wipe. Hmmm.

The family have been great, Janette (the mum) especially, welcoming me into the bosom of the family. Coralie, the eldest quickly befriended me the first day. As we sat in the sun doing her English homework, I found that she really loved the English language. The children gave me a tour of the house (I did not tell them that their father already had) and I marveled at the balconies, in fact the inside was almost as spectacular as the outside with the large windows and real fireplace, tiled floors and high ceiling in the corridor. The family reside on perhaps one acre of land with a stream running beside it and the garden (if it can be called that) has swings, hammocks, a pond.

Upon arrival we were greeted by a Labrador and a very large dog, which much ressembled a St Bernard. Jean-Pierre (the dad) told me the name but I can’t much remember, he said something in french and I nodded. The large swimming pool I was told was out of bounds for Frederic but that he much liked playing on the swing. Up in one of the many trees lived an incomplete but impressive treehouse. Jean-Pierre blushed as he told me that he had not had the time to complete it and that he was more of an intellect than a labourer.

So that’s how I went from city girl to country girl.