I Really Think Its About Time That She Came Down
Hallo, all.
Euh... After much trial and horror at airport hell and such, I have arrived in France. Tis an interesting place. I havent got bitched out as much as anticipated, but I have fucked up on a regular basis since arriving (and before then, too. *shakes fist at aeroport*). Most of the people here on this bloody programme are terrible, and I found myself immediately missing my lovely cynical, oversexed friends at home. I have made the acquaintance of some decent people since arriving, tho. Or rather, one or two, I fear.
Besides the fact that I offend the French on a regular basis, its not as bad as the others, who have already gotten themselves kicked out of retaurants ant the like. I hate screwing up like this all the time. It irritates me on new and exciting levels. But ah well. Only *checks calendar* about twenty days left. *sigh*. Dont get me wrong, friends, I like it here. A lot. I just hate to make a bad impression on a new country, as stupid as that sounds.
Ah yes! Whats great about Monpellier is the fact that the music selection makes me burst with fluids of joy and wonder. I just bought a few new Bowie albums and XTC's 'Drums and Wires' as well as 'Mummer' before I left home. I love it so. Drums and Wires is really a great soundtrack for my whimsical adventures in the land of the French, so I've listened to that the most. And Bowie, of course, is just the fucking golden standard, so that should go without saying. But I shall say it, anyhow.
I don't know if any of you have traveled alone before turning fifteen. If you haven't, don't plan on it; Please. Its an incredibly stupid idea.
My eyes burn and bubble from all the sexy that surrounds me.
Writing this I am overcome with an incredible, horrendous wave of nostalgia. As cheesy as it sounds, I miss you all terribly. I mean, the nerdiness quotient here is mcuh too terribly low to fit my high standards. I canèt talk to anyone here with typical 'Rosie' conversation, as all of them are so sheltered that they are sickeningly ofeended. I was really looking forward to offending people at this programme, tho, as most of them are rich bastards who don't know a vibrator from a baguette. And oh, I've suceeded so bloody well.
On the first day I saw the social situation begin to solidify, like so much sugar free Jello (TM); there was the anicable girl with braces, the self-righteous chick, the stocks and business guy, airheads, and the Canadians.It just goes on and on into a veritable orgy of camp stereotypes.But as I was looking on by myself at all of this, I realized: I'm the token weirdo.
HUZZAH!
Mission accomplished, bitches.
Euh... After much trial and horror at airport hell and such, I have arrived in France. Tis an interesting place. I havent got bitched out as much as anticipated, but I have fucked up on a regular basis since arriving (and before then, too. *shakes fist at aeroport*). Most of the people here on this bloody programme are terrible, and I found myself immediately missing my lovely cynical, oversexed friends at home. I have made the acquaintance of some decent people since arriving, tho. Or rather, one or two, I fear.
Besides the fact that I offend the French on a regular basis, its not as bad as the others, who have already gotten themselves kicked out of retaurants ant the like. I hate screwing up like this all the time. It irritates me on new and exciting levels. But ah well. Only *checks calendar* about twenty days left. *sigh*. Dont get me wrong, friends, I like it here. A lot. I just hate to make a bad impression on a new country, as stupid as that sounds.
Ah yes! Whats great about Monpellier is the fact that the music selection makes me burst with fluids of joy and wonder. I just bought a few new Bowie albums and XTC's 'Drums and Wires' as well as 'Mummer' before I left home. I love it so. Drums and Wires is really a great soundtrack for my whimsical adventures in the land of the French, so I've listened to that the most. And Bowie, of course, is just the fucking golden standard, so that should go without saying. But I shall say it, anyhow.
I don't know if any of you have traveled alone before turning fifteen. If you haven't, don't plan on it; Please. Its an incredibly stupid idea.
My eyes burn and bubble from all the sexy that surrounds me.
Writing this I am overcome with an incredible, horrendous wave of nostalgia. As cheesy as it sounds, I miss you all terribly. I mean, the nerdiness quotient here is mcuh too terribly low to fit my high standards. I canèt talk to anyone here with typical 'Rosie' conversation, as all of them are so sheltered that they are sickeningly ofeended. I was really looking forward to offending people at this programme, tho, as most of them are rich bastards who don't know a vibrator from a baguette. And oh, I've suceeded so bloody well.
On the first day I saw the social situation begin to solidify, like so much sugar free Jello (TM); there was the anicable girl with braces, the self-righteous chick, the stocks and business guy, airheads, and the Canadians.It just goes on and on into a veritable orgy of camp stereotypes.But as I was looking on by myself at all of this, I realized: I'm the token weirdo.
HUZZAH!
Mission accomplished, bitches.