A weekend in the city!

It's my last night in Aix-En-Provence, and due to the lack of local shops I've walked a long way to find an open bar. And it's a football night.
"Bonsoir"
"Bonsoir, une stella artois si vous plais"
"Pint?"
"Oh Yes please, thankyou"
"Ah ha! English!"

I'm in France catching up with Dr Fusion who has recently become my first ever ex-pat buddy. For someone who only ever learnt 5 words of French in school (I did Spanish) I feel I've done OK and had a pretty good time over here. And any contempt waiters might have felt for our lack of French and lunchtime coffee-drinking has been outweighed by my insisting on introducing my mate as Monsieur L'Ingineur. That holds a lot of kudos in this part of town.

I can see why English people totally fall for Provence- it's really pretty nice, like England would be if we hadn't wrecked it. Everyone drinks and no-one gets disorderly, everyone smokes but no-one has a hacking cough, and every woman under 40 is slim and beautiful. I also really like the French sense of drama- girls skipping out into the road with bags of shopping causing exaggerated braking and collisions, animated conversations in narrow streets that I can't understand, and the fact that the homeless are on strike. I'm still trying to figure that one out, but every city currently has a huge tent city at its centre.

Yep, overall we love France. Except Marseilles which is a complete dump. I'm dying to learn some French and not sound totally stupid next time. Kind of hard to seduce a beautiful chain smoking brunette with "Hello" and "thankyou".

On the other hand, that used to work on one of my exes...

Shaky Start!

It's five days into my course yet and I haven't done a thing. Generally that's a bad sign, but it's honestly not my fault. Or at least it's only a bit my fault.

We're starting off our social work studies by covering the OU course Understanding Health and Social Care. I've already written on two job applications that I'm doing this, so I really should make a move. Sadly, since Secure Mail Services, the OU's delivery company, appear to have left my books out on the street in a high crime neighbourhood, there's really nothing I can do so far. And it's pretty unlikely the books will show up before I go on holiday tomorrow, so there goes my great idea of doing my coursework sitting in a french cafe with a strong coffee and a brunette waitress.

Of course, this delay comes five months after I missed the course altogether as my employers forgot to send off the form agreeing funding. And I'm already plotting my escape from my currently lousy job.

Yep, I'm so going to make it as a social worker.

...Or maybe his wife's just fat...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/6357035.stm

Coming home I've had enough...

"The thing is, a few members of the team have come to me about how the house is a mess at the end of your shift."
"Well chief, number one it's not my job to clean the house. Number two they're clearly talking crap, because if they really thought I was doing something wrong they'd should have the guts to talk to me directly."

Well we made it, we're on leave for 3 weeks. However, I left Greenborough with a pretty nasty taste in my mouth.

The last week before you go on leave is always the hardest, and it doesn't help that my colleagues have been consistently complaining about me behind my back. What I wasn't expecting was to have a row with my manager about it. I think she caught me on an off day.

Anyway, I really don't have to worry about it for 3 weeks. And the plan at the minute is not to come back for long.