I’m too cranky to blog. I’ve had one of those annoying days, full of irritating little incidents which, because I am cranky, I have decided used never ever happen back home, where in fact I seem to remember I lived my 37 years in constant happiness and joy. In fact today ‘back home’ seems like some Nirvana gift horse whose teeth I decided to knock out….that’s a really crappy metaphor, but I don’t care, because I am cranky. So today Paris is stupid!

It didn’t help that my French mobile turned up after being missing, outside in the courtyard in the rain, so that its screen now contains an interesting water feature. Or that my passport photos revealed not only a strange squint to which I had been oblivious but also the shocking extent of both my dark roots and my grey hair. (I now think I know what may have scared Canadian divorcee off). Or that when I rushed to my hairdresser, she was on her month long stupid French holiday. Or that the writer in Shakespeare and Company, giving a talk on ‘the most tragic love story ever told’ had a stupid accent, a voice which cracked at a certain pitch and a delivery which gave the story all the drama of a mundane plot line of Fair City. I stuck it half an hour, thinking uncharitable thoughts about the people in the audience, before taking the wrong metro line not once but twice on the way home.

All I want to do it slump on the sofa and watch tv…but I can’t work the stupid tv! Good lord I think ranting has actually cheered me up! And my mobile seems to be drying out!

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