Failure! (said like Super Smash)
Anyway. Me found reliable internet, by faking my way into a library in Paris, and breaking into the American Residence at the Cité Universitaire. Well, sadly not really, but I did do the above two things, though that didnt lead to internet.
Kenneth is very disappointed today, as he wanted alot to go to Cardiff to see friends again this weekend, but was stopped through the lack of flights, at any time whatsobloodyever, leaving Cardiff for Paris on Sunday, or even Monday (and damn, I would have HARDCORE skipped classes). Or at least flights that didnt cost 400 pounds. Thank you, no. I could fly home for that amount. Still fucking annoyed.
Not much is nouvelle here. Politics class rocks my socks, in french of course, and apparently is taught by a very cute guy (though I will limit my praise to 'funny and cool' for STRAIGHTforward reasons). Andrew, please notice the APPARENTLY in front there, stating I hear this from others in the me and another guy + 16 girls programme here. Paris remains cool as anything. Beyond cool. Pretty too, and I generally like the atmosphere of the city, and the pace of life. Though I now have many many songs stuck in my head, and would like one good day at Earlham, just to get back into that habit. Anyway.
And damnit all to hell... in a fit of desperation (I ran out of books to read), I took the houses copy of the third Harry Potter book. I bought the fourth today. Goddamnit, I have sold out.
Oh! Good poet: Phillip Larkin. Depressing and English, but you have to love someone who begins a poem: 'they fuck you up, your mom and dad...' He said a bad word!
Shit, I dont have much more to say. Embarassing.
Kenneth is very disappointed today, as he wanted alot to go to Cardiff to see friends again this weekend, but was stopped through the lack of flights, at any time whatsobloodyever, leaving Cardiff for Paris on Sunday, or even Monday (and damn, I would have HARDCORE skipped classes). Or at least flights that didnt cost 400 pounds. Thank you, no. I could fly home for that amount. Still fucking annoyed.
Not much is nouvelle here. Politics class rocks my socks, in french of course, and apparently is taught by a very cute guy (though I will limit my praise to 'funny and cool' for STRAIGHTforward reasons). Andrew, please notice the APPARENTLY in front there, stating I hear this from others in the me and another guy + 16 girls programme here. Paris remains cool as anything. Beyond cool. Pretty too, and I generally like the atmosphere of the city, and the pace of life. Though I now have many many songs stuck in my head, and would like one good day at Earlham, just to get back into that habit. Anyway.
And damnit all to hell... in a fit of desperation (I ran out of books to read), I took the houses copy of the third Harry Potter book. I bought the fourth today. Goddamnit, I have sold out.
Oh! Good poet: Phillip Larkin. Depressing and English, but you have to love someone who begins a poem: 'they fuck you up, your mom and dad...' He said a bad word!
Shit, I dont have much more to say. Embarassing.