Going back to being a proper student, that’s it, i’m out of here and leaving on a jet plane (should you be lucky enough to get security clearance)
Nothing says “I love you” like a dude clapping when the wind suddenly lifts your skirt up as you’re cycling by the riverside. Welcome to bdx. I must preface this post by adding that spontaneous public nudity is not all I’ve been up to this month, I have also been perfecting the art of tanning in the office. So hello, dear reader, I’m back in your normal little life with a slice of my normal little life! And as summer is starting to run its silky hands through my hair, the cold grip of the year abroad project keeps whispering sweet “you have to write those oh &!*$ 6000 words” into my ear.
The fantastic one-woman bdx tourism ad, rolling rolling THUMP and bonjour gorgeous, can I buy you a boisson?
It is now March, and just as surely as all the British tourists have started wearing sandals at the slightest hint of sun, so does this blog once again rear its, one hopes improving, head to deliver a status report on my life and Bdx. And, in a rare moment of brevity I shall give you a quick conclusion for this month: Come to Bdx.
This month: It’s not wasting time if you’re being funny, I did a cultured thing so please be proud and since when is France THIS different?
This month’s instalment of fun in France has proudly been started on company time. Just in case any of my co-workers are reading this let me add that I’m not spending THAT much time on it (loosely translated from suck-up that means “please please please, still pay me”). In my defence I must point out that the life of a stagiaire isn’t quite heart pumping pulse-thumping stuff and as such I have recently found myself with quite a bit of sort-of-down-time, at work. But, despite this minor inconvenience my job is still aces, like Bordeaux and like my health (not that you were curious, I know, but I needed a filler, pardon the egotism).
What’s “Happy New Year” in French? It’d be a shame to fail so soon and getting off the couch for a change…
Happy New Year person reading this! While I hope this year brings you all the luck you deserve and that this past New Years Eve brought you all the stories you were hoping for, this month comes with a shameful confession: Out of the 3 weeks between the last instalment and this one, 2 of them have been spent in Spain, making writing about Bdx somewhat more complicated. So please be warned that this month we shall talk on broader terms.
I have now been here for three lovely months and haven’t once seen a jazz cat. Now I’m not one to diss Walt Disney, but I am one to voice my disappointment (motherly *tut* for those of you who didn’t realise I was referring to “the aristocats”). Luckily though this still remains the only negative incident on my bordelaise adventure, well that and an unfortunate event involving a few too many shots, but we shan’t start off on the wrong foot.