Being a parent is a bit like being on drugs. Instead of salvia or speedballs it happens to be sleep deprivation and adrenaline, but the net result is the same, so although it's a constant stream of highs and lows I'm never quite sure, when I come to explain it to other people, whether it's not just a function of me being stoned out of my mind on ( Read more... )

Having a baby is supposed to make you think about your own maturity. Many expectant parents of my acquaintance decided to put away childish things - they cut back on the drinking, cancelled their bimonthly order for a quarter of Moroccan, and started going to bed at nine thirty to examine the footnotes to What to Expect when You're Expecting. I was ( Read more... )

Here is that meme of first-lines-of-the-month, in my case a staggeringly boring selection - apologies:

Random memories of the honeymoon, in no order: Stopping at a tiny railroad town in southern Tennessee and going to a proper old soda fountain, where the waitress thought we were French because we said we lived in Paris ( Read more... )

Well, August is winding down, the politicians are back at work, and schools all over France are psyching themselves up for the big rentrée. This is a country where almost everyone seems to go on holiday at the same time, and in the first week of August, when the aoûtiens are leaving and the juilletistes haven't yet come back, you're hard pushed to ( Read more... )

God gives the nuts, as Kafka so wisely said, but he does not crack them. Actually Kafka didn't say that, but he did say something remarkably similar in German, and his point was not lost. In my case the metaphor is a simple one to keep in mind, because for me these figurative nuts also happen to be real nuts, which, thanks to some combination of ( Read more... )

The last few days and even weeks have blurred together a little bit. I have a distinct feeling that I'll look back on the months before the wedding and remember NOTHING. A couple of weeks ago a few of our friends came out to Paris for a joint stag/hen do (shag do? sten do?), which was really awesome: we filled our new flat with sushi and red wine ( Read more... )

I have been ill and off work today, mooching around the flat on our last day in it, and feeling bored. I really hope I'm feeling better tomorrow, because moving house in my current state is going to be a horrendous task.

I'm reading Davy Crockett's autobiography at the moment; it's a strange book, full of self-aggrandising and political ( Read more... )

This could be my last morning in Shayne's flat.  Hannah arrives in Paris today - all our things from England are packed up and being held indefinitely by a removal company until we find an apartment for them to be moved into.  I was out last night and didn't get in until after 4am, so I am sitting here at my desk, grateful for a brief burst of wifi ( Read more... )

Recently I have been watching The Camomile Lawn on my iPod. I found the complete miniseries on iTunes for four quid, it's amazing. Does anyone else remember this or is it only me? I was around 14 or 15 when it was on TV, but although I remember it (on account of Jennifer Ehle spending most of every episode naked) I don't think I was really ( Read more... )

Well, since the internet in my flat has gone down, and I can't post to LJ from the office, I will probably be quieter than usual for a while.  Right now I'm sitting in the Taverne de Cluny and listening to some kind of Classic Rock compilation CD blaring out at a million decibels.  Things are quite stressful with the flat-hunting.  Hannah comes out ( Read more... )