Kévin

Nothing I like more than bitching about than tourists.  They are literally the only reason people try to pick pocket me on the métro on my way to and from work.

I hate them with a passion, more so when they literally block me from getting on my train (and obviously as a result, miss it) because they’re too thick to read.

One of the tragedies of living in the 6ème is that you are literally never far enough from the stupidest of all the tourist, because my work is based on a line that shares routes to places like Versailles, I tend to get completely destroyed by the sheer stupidity these people seem to muster at 8h/9h, usually at Invalides.

It starts out in ligne 13, where personal space is just not happening.  The stench of humanity literally boiling and you’ve got the feeling of some fingers slipping in to your pockets.  Do they hit the obvious french people ?  No, because blonde hair probably means lots of cash on hand !  I find these moments are usually stopped with a swift few words, such as « fils de pute, nique ta sale mère » or my personal favourite « j’ai acheté ce portable de merde chez E.Leclerc putain !« .

But on the days I’m lucky enough to not have my meagre earnings picked at, there are always the complete assholes, their 15 kids and 20 million bags trying to ram themselves on to ligne 13 at the only two hour window anybody actually needs to be on that shit show.  And they are always speaking English, loudly.

Truely, this is why French people hate anglophones (well that and basically every little scuffle between England through out history #100yearwar), let’s be real kids, if France went on « vacay » to every city in the US and really fucked with your commute, I’d bet you’d actually start hating France (other than for that Freedom Fries thing and being France).
Then we get to the RER C, if you thought ligne 13 was the spectacle, you’re wrong, it’s the fucking pre-show.  When your métro has been sat in a tunnel for no reason and you literally have to run a marathon to get to your train, because SNCF in their wisdom decided your train should be 3 minutes earlier than scheduled, you find literally EVERY gate blocked by morons going to pay 25€ to see some fucking gardens with music and pay 10€ for frites in a highly overpriced construction site.

I know the whole barrier thing can be difficult, but basic lesson here, YOU NEED SOME KIND OF PAID MAGIC TO GET IN.  Ticket+, Navigo Semaine, your feet launching you over it, ON S’EN FOUS, DEGAGE SALOPE !  The RATP will be grudgingly help your sorry ass if you ask, I will happily launch you over the fucking thing in to the departure board, so chose your assistance wisely.

For those who pass the first test, there is of course the standard « let’s stop right here and take a selfie, we’re so parisien ! » right after the gate, as if the flow of people magically stops when you pull out your god forsaken selfie stick.

This dipshittery usually continues through out the station, blocking stairways, train doors, entire platforms, etc. making one’s already peaceful transition to the 92, that more peaceful.

I understand Paris or France ain’t easy to figure out, probably less so when you just scream English words at French people « so they understand » because you really haven’t bothered buying a book of phrases for 10$ just after you spaffed 5.000$ on flights and an Ibis Budget.  But really, whether or not you speak the language, in what serious head trauma, does anybody genuinely think it’s peak moment to explore the transit system a city of 2 million people between 8h-10h Monday to Friday?

It’s nicer to walk and see Paris, than succumb to the horror that is any métro, bus or transilien line at peak hours.  Because we all ain’t doing it for the LOLZ.

Creepy Google Photos has been sending me notifications of panoramas, stalkerish videos and the occasional album of geolocated pics.

As iCreepy as this is, it took the time to remind me that I’ve been in France for four years now.  My official move date was in November but my first round of coming over and finding jobs was May 2013.

Since then I managed to get good at the administration game and the delicate dance that is finding a propriétaire who likes you so much they overlook holes in your dossier.

It’s a strange place this country, but I’m going to have to up my game next year when I apply for permanent residency.

Now commences the great escape to Nice on the idTGV (basically the front carriages of your average TGV), a rather cheap excursion  for a mere 24 hours that coincides with my time of the birth.

This being the first time since I have been in France that I have took a TGV anywhere, it’s a rather interesting experience and by that I mean, slightly more classy than your average RER C but just as late and over half the cost of a NaviGo for one way.

I also booked an AirBNB in the middle of Nice, close to the veille ville to look at Nice (see what I did there) things and take selfies.  Hopefully this will be the start of taking short little excursions across France, because while Le Penis is still not yet voted in and all immigrants such as my over employed ass are booted out.  Choisir La France as she says.

Currently we are struggling (myself and Claire) to select hashtags for her instagram, trying to pull from the wealth of knowledge of Kim Kardashian were are trying to determine which hashtag one would use after #1erclasse.

One of the benefits of taking this line is that there are wannabe models all over the place, one of them has a small dogs that I’m fairly sure is a well coiffured rat.  The magic of Paris comes to the south.

Seeing as I have pretty much no functional réseau I may as well post this now.  No doubt I will write a bit more, seeing as there is another 5 hours to go.

I will make an actual effort to try and find new things to do in Paris this next month.  Mainly because I have become too much of a indoor cat lady recently

Considering there is a world available to me outside my home and I’m far too lazy after working to go and see it, is kind of a waste.

So during March I will be making an effort to go and see things outside of my four walls and furry monster.  First it starts with the french bureaucratic system to get my carte de séjour sorted out, make an effort to buy some new clothes and go away from the three day rotation I am currently on.  Get a new bed sorted out so I can expand my space in my small apartment.

And of course blog the crap out of this for clicks, because I am that shallow (and like fucks, clicks are something I do not have much of right now).  But in a less shallow hipster way, actually use this blog for what I have always done, just one big book of things to read later on to see what I was doing when I was doing it.

Good times.

Being as nouveau riche as I am (LOLZ) I decided that spending a little extra on a tablet case was a good shout, considering the internal state of my bag.  I should have done this sooner, but when you’re presented with the three lemonadiers that you thought you lost months ago kicking around in the internal fabrics (which of course is only brought to light during a routine X-Ray of said bag #EtatdUrgence) it kind of sheds light on to this need to protect one’s screen.

But also it turns out that I should worry about Madame Hiss and her penchant to dig through things, because it turns out one thing she likes to dig other than the Ikea carpeting, is tablets.

Having avoided her doing real damage, I got « the only choice in the shop » case which set me back about 30€.  Not much, but still a bit on the expensive side of my liking.

Turns out that Kaja decided one night that this was the purrfect surface to dig.  Within 24 hours of spaffing out on it.  On the brightside I guess I can call it a hipster tablet case with « intricate scratching design ».  Good thing I caught her mid act, otherwise she would have been chewing on apps and photos within the hour.

But this is life with cat, you move on, and flog it on Leboncoin for 80€ « protecteur technologie artisanal ».

It's been a while since I've had a proper livejoirnal update, I think it's far too easy to get lost in the social-less media of new.  Which I am very guilty of, although linking my wordpress (https://www.costelloe.ca) here has probably dampened the blow a little.

A little that has been going on in my stupidly busy life is that nearly a year ago, I acqusitioned a cat.  I'm not sure how old she is but without doubt one of her parents was satan himself judging by her sour attitude and flare for physical harm.

It's a bit strange to have a living thing you need to be responsible for, because quite frankly I'm barely responsible enough to take care of myself at the best of times.  Which can be frighteningly annoying when you spend your last cash on cat food and litter to find Miserable Bitch doesn't like either and takes out her inner rage over it while you're eating the last of pasta you found.

But it brings me to my second update, from where I was very much unemployed a few months back, I'm now over employed.  Which is good on the bank balance but terrible on the whole free time thing.

I'm getting used to it though and finally that looming debt is going away.  Slowly but still ending that shitty chapter all the same.

I have ended up getting a new phone as well, bargan basement Android which is still better than my iPhone.  No more iMessage but Google Hangouts certainly replaces that with ease.

In Janurary I'm also going to use some of this extra cash to get some more suitable furniture and extend on my little space as I've decided that I don't want to leave this appartment any time soon.  It's small parisien but considering the hoops I had to fly though to get here and where I live for this cheap, I can't justify moving for more space or to another quartier.

That's what I have for now, I'll try to post again soon.  Tell me updates in the comments or perhaps even update your journals as my feed is quite thin now days!

Today was uneventful, wake up, work, fill in a quiz and win a tablet.

After switching over properly to an Android device, I now have a fancy new tablet to go with my ever knowing Google account.

Spent a bit of time earlier downloading useful blogging apps so I can do this blog thing.  Seeing as I genuinely own a blog and a LiveJournal it should be something I perhaps try and do more often.

I’ve said thay before, but now I’ve got battery power 🔋 to last for days.

Yesterday was the techno parade in Paris, here are some photos.

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As is the custom on New Years Eve one must drink to excess and wake up the following morning questioning your questionable state of drunkeness the night before.  2016 is of course no exception.

Mes Bitches came over from London and of course first port of call for NYE celebrations is Bespoke (if you haven’t been here, you haven’t lived).  We spend the evening taking copious amounts of delightful cocktails, beers and Selfies to make the eyes water.  I’d like to write more about this but girl was not entirely in a remembering state of mind.

I do vaguely recall that I went to a house party at 6h and after that falling asleep on the métro and waking up at « Not My Station » in « Where the fuck am I? ».  I managed to also wander around for a considerable amount of time and found a friend to discuss « this thing I just stole while intoxicated – what is it? ».

This might be a short histoire but here be the photos.

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