Wednesday, June 30, 2010

My first manif'

Me at the demonstration

The demonstration crosses the Loire (I did not)

The starting-point at the Place de la Liberté - I like the building in the background, supposedly very Tour-ish

The long-awaited 4th corner of mystery is finally revealed in all its glory!

If you think building that chest of drawers wasn't tough, here's an excerpt from the instructions...

Not much blog-worthy going down, although I must say I should write more cutting book reviews, as the last one was quite the mysterious success! Summer has arrived in force (finally, I was going to work in scarves up until about the official start of summer on the 21st), with temperatures of up to 31 degrees (according to the computer) or 34 degrees (according to a pharmacy sign) today - hot whichever way you slice it. I'm not sure I can work/sleep under these conditions...

In exciting news, yesterday I finally bought a hammer and some screwdrivers and set to constructing my chest of drawers. It was a mission! Took at least 3 hours to do it... Bof! I'm pleased that it came together and I only made one major mistake that necessitated prying bits apart and starting over. I also bent the back of it by catching it under the door - yes, the back panel is thin enough that it fits under a door - but I hammered it out, sor'ed. This is very exciting because now I have lots more storage space and my underwears are no longer hanging up in a cloth hutchy thing for all to see! Crucially, it also means that the 'miscellaneous crap' that was in suitcases on my floor is now in the drawers and I can put the suitcases in the cellar
(* removal of suitcases pending). I can pretend for once to be a grown-up! (Yes, Dad, it won't last.) Touch wood, it so far shows no signs of falling over despite not being fixed to the wall - I knew Ikea put that in to deter sue-happy people whose children were fatally crushed under a runaway chest of drawers.

Also, last Thursday I went en grève (on strike) and joined my colleagues at a manifestation (demonstration). I was promised at work that this demonstration was about general living conditions and being fed up with constant cuts by the Sarkozy government and the erosion of the standard of living, and that it wasn't just about the retirement age - which is why I agreed to go, since I don't agree that the retirement age should stay at 60 or whatever it is. After actually attending the demonstration, I'm pretty sure they were fibbing and it was mainly about keeping the ridiculous retirement age that I have to pay for... Never mind though, it made me feel like a real Frenchie going on strike! We all know their legendary love for strikes and demonstrations, so I felt I should experience it at least once! The strike itself was pretty tame, we just marched down the main axis road to the sound of special strike songs, chants, and the odd vuvuzela (really). I spent most of the time chatting to the intern from work. We ditched the strike after a couple of hours when we reached the banks of the Loire (it was super slow going).

Apart from that, same old pretty much. Today I had just got to the park after work and was settling in to listen to my iPod and read my book when a guy pulled up on his bike and asked what I was reading. Whaddaya know, it was the same guy who hit on me in the street like 6 weeks ago. He didn't recognise me at first either, although to give him credit, once he heard me mangle the French language he remembered my name! I guess either he hits on every girl he meets or I'm just exactly his type...


  1. A whisper of breeze in the middle of the night! A mosquito flaps its wings! Together the resulting breeze blows towards a precariously balanced IKEA chest that first wobbles and then topples on a reclining figure. 4 days later she is rescued by her flatmate having been pinned to the floor by her own creation. If only I'd followed the instructions she thought in between mouthfuls of her first pain-au-choolat for 5 days.

  2. Ha ha very poetic! I'm glad I was just temporarily incapacitated and not killed outright. How the rampaging chest managed to topple me off my bed and pin me to the floor is a bit of a mystery, but I hear these IKEA things come alive at night.

  3. Who says it toppled onto your bed? I forgot to add "drunken" before reclining!


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