Until recently, I never really respected the phrase "Too much of a good thing can be a bad thing", or however the saying goes. As a young teenager and up until probably the end of last year, I needed a maximum of 6 hours sleep or less to function properly, and getting up early was never a problem. Getting up early still isn't much of a problem, mainly because when it's considered "early morning", I AM STILL AWAKE. This "good thing" I speak of is, of course, sleeping, which has led to fairly bad insomnia. As my days turn into nights, and the weather becomes increasingly colder and darker, I forget where I am in time. Falling asleep has become increasingly difficult, even though I am not particuarly stressed. I blame the 6 am club finishes, personally.
Honestly, though, I just think it is me rebelling in the madness of free, independent living. I can finally do what I want, when I want, except for when crazy lady shouts at us, but I ignore her anyway as I am not French, therefore play the JE NE PARLE PAS FRANCAIS! card, which is always confusing for people. I don't particuarly enjoy sleeping to be honest, yet when I'm bored, I'll say to myself "Have a nap, Lauren, just for an hour", then I'll wake up at 7pm and wonder where my life has went. Also, in true British style, I'm a crazy tea drinker, so drinking tea late alongside sleeping late is a recipe for disaster. My record? awake until 10 AM. Then staying awake the rest of the day so as to not waste a day. Crazy? Maybe.
I also think it has something to do with the time of year, i.e. Christmas, and this being my first time away from home so close to Christmas time. Not to sound needy or immature or anything, but it is something that has really hit me hard, as I didn't realise how much of a routine my family, friends and I had back in Scotland when it came to Christmas. Like how Rebecca (my twin sister - again, another huge reason for being a bit down) and I like to watch "The Mupper Christmas Carol" (you KNOW it is the best Christmas movie EVER!) and drink tea and eat chocolate together, then watch other versions of "A Christmas Carol" like "Scrooge" etc, and laze around in our pyjamas and watch old videos of Christmas' past etc. I know that might sound strange or childish or, well, a bit gay to you, but every person has their own special thing that they like to do at Christmas, and spending a lot of time with my friends and family is one of them. I guess I can't sleep too well because I'm thinking about what I would be doing at home if I were with everyone.
But then, I reflect on the fact that I have excellent friends here with which I could do the very same. So maybe it isn't so much the people, but the place. Poitiers has Christmas lights up, but they haven't been switched on yet, nor are there a lot of decorations, unlike what I expect Greenock or Gourock to look like back home. Thinking of it, Glasgow will be looking AMAZING right now. But I digress... I am thankful that I have friends in Poitiers, and we all are becoming a little more excited about Christmas with each passing day - who says you have to be a child to get excited? There is already talk of which advent calenders to buy/ which have already been bought (NB: I have a Top Gear one waiting for me at home!!) and we are having a random Christmas celebration at my residence on the 3rd (all are welcome!!) at which we will all bring something we would eat at Christmas time at home. I will attempt to make shortbread; fair enough, it's more of a Hogmanay treat, but it is easy and delicious. Either that or a trifle. Because I do enjoy a good trifle!! So to say that Poitiers is lacking in Christmas spirit would be a lie.
I have no idea how I got onto Christmas exactly... wait yes I do... AN INSOMNIATIC RAMBLE! It is driving me crazy as I am either a) Constantly asleep or b) Constantly tired. It is no basis for student life. And it is something I have to change; LOL jk my mum will change it for me in Scotland cause she makes me get up early :)
Still, there is the benefit of being able to try and sleep when I stay at Renaud's. Mainly because if I were to get up in the middle of the night and wake him up, he would beat me to death with my own shoes...
Some people are so touchy.
Thursday 25 November 2010
Tuesday 23 November 2010
You looks like a boy...
Yet another random update from my (un?)interesting life in Poiters! Ma meilleure amie, Amy, tells me I should give this blog a name, like Quentin, and write in him everyday as to update the world, and Quentin, about my life. I disagree, because I have absolutely nothing I could write everyday except I'm bored, I'm hungry, I'm asleep/ not sleeping. I dunno about you, but that doesn't exactly make for good reading... Anyhoo...
It should also be noted that I have my Iron Maiden ticket for next July. YALDIII!!!!
What's been happening? I won't lie, pretty much the same as always. I'll start where we left off; Friday night began at The Cave with some predrinking with Meg M, Lorna, Jess, Hannah G, Meg R, Steve, Braaaaaadon and The other American Guy? and had some bizarre banter, including the comparison between Star Wars and the American political system. We went to est-ouest after that, where I accidentally poured a beer over Meg Reis, then accidentally broke a glass which shards of went flying at her. I don't mean to be clumsy, nor do I have a vendetta against Megan :P We met Dimitri, Ivan and co after that and we went to the Goule for some French musical fun. As the pictures on facebook suggest, it was a fun, mainly drunken night.
The walk home with Dimitri, Dennis, Ivan and Hannah Mc was the highlight though. After teaching them some useful Scottish words (Baltic - always relevant, I think!), Ivan stopped and pointed ahead of him, and the conversation went as follows:
"Lauren... It looks like a bird, but it's not a bird?"
(But, instead, I heard):
"Lauren... You looks like a boy, but it's not a bird?"
(So...):
"Ivan, did you just say I look like a boy? :| "
To which everyone laughed for a hundred years. Turns out it was a quote from a film. As is "Sauce Dallas", to which again we all found very amusing. My hatred for Ivan has never been stronger :P (NB: I don't actually hate Ivan. Most days :P). So for about 15 minutes the five of us stood there shouting about birds that aren't birds, kebabs and Sauce Dallas. You really have to question what goes on in the minds of French people.
Sleep has been a bit of a no lately, so one morning I got up around, oh, 4am? Lit up my peppermint candle and went about rearranging my room, which is now LOVELY! :D Successful times.
The rest of the weekend was pretty uneventful, stayed in Saturday night as everyone was a little toooo hungover from Friday :P But had a nice night in, discovering some old videos from when I was about 17... Unattractive times, it has to be said.
Renaud had bantered back to Angouleme on the Friday night and was gone till Sunday, so I met him off the train and we went to stay at his. Through the course of staying at his a few nights a week this past fortnight, I have made a few interesting (or not) discoveries.
1. He has the most bizarre snore I've ever heard in my life - probably because he is French.
2. He talks in his sleep, mostly about being cold, hungry, or random French nonsense.
3. He grind his teeth in his sleep. I can't tell you how annoying it is. :P
4. He likes to whack me in his sleep, while I sleep.
Now, I do not mean the latter in a wife-beaterish way, so put the pitch forks away, but more in a "I'm just gonna throw my limbs all over the place in a really ungraceful manner whilst I toss and turn" sort of way. Most of the time, this results in me being hit in the face. I remember one time Rebecca did it when we were sharing a bad and, being sisters, I assumed she meant it, so whacked her back, much to her surprise. So night time abuse is nothing new to me. The first time it happened I was just dropping off to sleep, then a cold hand whacked off the top of my head. I promptly spun round like "RENAUD, WHAT YOU DOIN MATE?" for him to be mumble something and snore in my face. After keeping me awake all night with his snoring, mumbling and random shivers. The next night, he proceeded to spin round and head butt me in the face. Which in turn woke up him, and he complained about being awake for ages. Nevermind my face being attacked. He does not remember these incidents, SURPRISE SURPRISE... But it's ok because we played Star Wars and listened to 90's music and had nice times :)
I'm sorry this blog has been boring so far. It's hard to think what to write sometimes. Stuff that's relevant or interesting. It's pretty cold over here just now and reports are saying we're going to get snow too. Aye that's gonna be a total laugh.
Sauce Dallas et a plus tard!
It should also be noted that I have my Iron Maiden ticket for next July. YALDIII!!!!
What's been happening? I won't lie, pretty much the same as always. I'll start where we left off; Friday night began at The Cave with some predrinking with Meg M, Lorna, Jess, Hannah G, Meg R, Steve, Braaaaaadon and The other American Guy? and had some bizarre banter, including the comparison between Star Wars and the American political system. We went to est-ouest after that, where I accidentally poured a beer over Meg Reis, then accidentally broke a glass which shards of went flying at her. I don't mean to be clumsy, nor do I have a vendetta against Megan :P We met Dimitri, Ivan and co after that and we went to the Goule for some French musical fun. As the pictures on facebook suggest, it was a fun, mainly drunken night.
The walk home with Dimitri, Dennis, Ivan and Hannah Mc was the highlight though. After teaching them some useful Scottish words (Baltic - always relevant, I think!), Ivan stopped and pointed ahead of him, and the conversation went as follows:
"Lauren... It looks like a bird, but it's not a bird?"
(But, instead, I heard):
"Lauren... You looks like a boy, but it's not a bird?"
(So...):
"Ivan, did you just say I look like a boy? :| "
To which everyone laughed for a hundred years. Turns out it was a quote from a film. As is "Sauce Dallas", to which again we all found very amusing. My hatred for Ivan has never been stronger :P (NB: I don't actually hate Ivan. Most days :P). So for about 15 minutes the five of us stood there shouting about birds that aren't birds, kebabs and Sauce Dallas. You really have to question what goes on in the minds of French people.
Sleep has been a bit of a no lately, so one morning I got up around, oh, 4am? Lit up my peppermint candle and went about rearranging my room, which is now LOVELY! :D Successful times.
The rest of the weekend was pretty uneventful, stayed in Saturday night as everyone was a little toooo hungover from Friday :P But had a nice night in, discovering some old videos from when I was about 17... Unattractive times, it has to be said.
Renaud had bantered back to Angouleme on the Friday night and was gone till Sunday, so I met him off the train and we went to stay at his. Through the course of staying at his a few nights a week this past fortnight, I have made a few interesting (or not) discoveries.
1. He has the most bizarre snore I've ever heard in my life - probably because he is French.
2. He talks in his sleep, mostly about being cold, hungry, or random French nonsense.
3. He grind his teeth in his sleep. I can't tell you how annoying it is. :P
4. He likes to whack me in his sleep, while I sleep.
Now, I do not mean the latter in a wife-beaterish way, so put the pitch forks away, but more in a "I'm just gonna throw my limbs all over the place in a really ungraceful manner whilst I toss and turn" sort of way. Most of the time, this results in me being hit in the face. I remember one time Rebecca did it when we were sharing a bad and, being sisters, I assumed she meant it, so whacked her back, much to her surprise. So night time abuse is nothing new to me. The first time it happened I was just dropping off to sleep, then a cold hand whacked off the top of my head. I promptly spun round like "RENAUD, WHAT YOU DOIN MATE?" for him to be mumble something and snore in my face. After keeping me awake all night with his snoring, mumbling and random shivers. The next night, he proceeded to spin round and head butt me in the face. Which in turn woke up him, and he complained about being awake for ages. Nevermind my face being attacked. He does not remember these incidents, SURPRISE SURPRISE... But it's ok because we played Star Wars and listened to 90's music and had nice times :)
I'm sorry this blog has been boring so far. It's hard to think what to write sometimes. Stuff that's relevant or interesting. It's pretty cold over here just now and reports are saying we're going to get snow too. Aye that's gonna be a total laugh.
Sauce Dallas et a plus tard!
Thursday 11 November 2010
Does "All departures" apply to me?
Time for another update on my European adventure, albeit two weeks back into it! The journey from Glasgow to Stanstead was fairly uneventful, apart from looking for Gate 3 instead of Gate 11, then waiting 4 days on a woman "running" (ha) to board the train, and the loser beside me who couldn't resist sitting with their Ipad on Facebook the entire time. I proceeded to listen to some Drum and Bass at an annoyingly loud level just to portray my distaste. On arrival at Stanstead, I approached the desk that said "All departures". Not feeling the wisest at 8.30 am, I asked the woman, who then looked at me rather worryingly:
"Excuse me, but does "All departures" apply to me, too?" WELL, ONLY IF YOU PLAN ON FLYING, LAUREN :/ After a quick jaunt through security, I got myself an Irn Bru, some crisps, a copy of Glamour and begrudgingly took a free copy of "The Times". I then discovered the MAC counter and literally had to drag myself away for fear of bankruptcy. I had to choose between being homeless, or looking fabulous. I'd a looked damn good on the streets!!
A few hours later, Zoe Boden arrived and we flew back to Poitiers in one piece. After being the last to be picked up by the taxi, I quickly ran into my apartment to get changed, eat and pack a bag as I headed to Angouleme. I accidentally got on a slow train, and had a confusing journey through various places on the way to Angouleme. Renaud was there to meet me off the train, and we had a romantic hug on the platform, before I started to babble incoherently about how nervous I was to meet his parents. Needless to say, after almost 2 weeks on Scottish soil, my accent had become thicker, broader and quicker than the bizarre version I had to create as to be understood in Poitiers, so communication between us was a little difficult. Still, after a lot of shrugging, repeating, and generally beating the language barrier to death, we arrived at Renaud's home. To which I hid behind a wall and refused to enter, before his mum found me cowering in fear and ushered me indoors with Renaud laughing at me. His mother, Christine, his dad, Patrick and his younger sister, Margot, were all there to greet me, and it was lovely! And the one thing I did appreciate, though it terrified me to death, was that they spoke at a normal French pace with proper French accents - i.e. 100mph, and just as inarticulate as I am with English. It was VERY difficult, but I got the gist of everything pretty quickly. We went to a party thing with his parents that evening, and after some food, some music and well a bottle or two of rose, I was off speaking French and boring them about my uni. And also dancing with his mum. Not really sure why, but it was fun anyway!
The next day, we visited his grandfather and other members of his family before have a banter off round Angouleme. After persuading him to come into ZARA and H&M, then leaving 5 minutes later because the look of utter despair had arrived on his face, I got to see all the art on the walls of buildings in Angouleme. But, forgot my camera. As I am an idiot. Still, it was a lovely place! We met Ivan later on that night for some drinks in Hacienda, a weird kind of jazz bar. I still hate jazz, but I did educate Renaud on the differences between malt and blended whiskeys, and how you should drink them - not with coke, like he does. He and Ivan also took great delight in the fact my Mum's maiden name is Campbell, as they drink "Clan Campbell" whiskey, so are excited I am from that "Clan". Just like how Renaud asked me "Do you know what H.D. is?". No, sorry; In Scotland, we still either live in castles or mud huts and wear kilts everyday.
The rest of the time in Angouleme was fairly uneventful, apart from me becoming ill and my left tonsil swelling uncontrollably, sleeping till all hours of the day, drinking a hell of a lot of coffee, Renaud completing Zelda, and the joys of French television. After a half hour delay we got the train back on the Tuesday, and that was that. Back in Poitiers!
Thursday brought the arrival of yet another party in Dimitri's, where we consumed much alcohol - some of us more than others!!! It was a good night though, despite a little drama here and there! Friday again was quiet, only because we were resting for Saturday. Now, Saturday. There's a tale. The night began with Hannah G and I watching "Anchorman", shouting out the quotes continually, and drinking (very strong) White Russians. After spilling milk on my floor, stealing my make up, and other forms of verbal abuse, we left for Megan Maguire's house, where she, Lorna, Zoe and Jess were already getting the party going. After a rather revealing game of "I've never", the conversation descended into the most disgusting topics that I will not put on here as they will probably upset my mother - BUT YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THEY WERE! A few sex on the beaches, white Russians, and whatever the hell else later, we were soon dancing to my ssupposedly "shite" choice in music, such as the Spice Girls, Vengaboys, various rap songs, and whatever else. Hannah Mc and Marta showed up just as we began to dance around, and the pictures certainly proved we had a good time. If not a bit of a drunken, mad time.
Hannah, Hannah, Marta and I went to a little bar near Meg's for some drinks, and on the way to the toilets Hannah G and I discovered some kind of secret passage way thing. I.E. we got VERY lost. Still, we discovered plates, bottles of wine, cups/grails... It's all a bit hazy and strange now, but we tried to go further down but got scared and ran back up the stairs, with me shouting "I FEEL LIKE SOMETHINGS CHASING ME!!". Hannah got freaked out and went home after that, and Hannah Mc, Marta and I went to the goule where we had a good old boogie.
Wednesday this week brought an early installment of Dimitri's party, as we had the day off today for remembrance day - how banterful of you, France. Again, alcohol was consumed and much banter was had! It was also Katie's first night out since her return fro Glasgow, and Marta's 21st! After some delicious pecan pie/cake/whatever, Marta's friends gave her presents and the birthday girl proceeded to get fairly drunk. But we made her happy, so we were happy!
Tonight (jeudi soir) I am resting up and doing nothing. Watching some Family Guy, South Park, chatting online and drinking tea. Tomorrow is where the party's at!
On that note, here is a quote from last night that represents every one's liking of my globe necklace, and how we Scottish/English/Irish etc folk have a really gay way of saying "happy birthday":
ERASMUS IN A GLOBE.COM/ FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW
"Excuse me, but does "All departures" apply to me, too?" WELL, ONLY IF YOU PLAN ON FLYING, LAUREN :/ After a quick jaunt through security, I got myself an Irn Bru, some crisps, a copy of Glamour and begrudgingly took a free copy of "The Times". I then discovered the MAC counter and literally had to drag myself away for fear of bankruptcy. I had to choose between being homeless, or looking fabulous. I'd a looked damn good on the streets!!
A few hours later, Zoe Boden arrived and we flew back to Poitiers in one piece. After being the last to be picked up by the taxi, I quickly ran into my apartment to get changed, eat and pack a bag as I headed to Angouleme. I accidentally got on a slow train, and had a confusing journey through various places on the way to Angouleme. Renaud was there to meet me off the train, and we had a romantic hug on the platform, before I started to babble incoherently about how nervous I was to meet his parents. Needless to say, after almost 2 weeks on Scottish soil, my accent had become thicker, broader and quicker than the bizarre version I had to create as to be understood in Poitiers, so communication between us was a little difficult. Still, after a lot of shrugging, repeating, and generally beating the language barrier to death, we arrived at Renaud's home. To which I hid behind a wall and refused to enter, before his mum found me cowering in fear and ushered me indoors with Renaud laughing at me. His mother, Christine, his dad, Patrick and his younger sister, Margot, were all there to greet me, and it was lovely! And the one thing I did appreciate, though it terrified me to death, was that they spoke at a normal French pace with proper French accents - i.e. 100mph, and just as inarticulate as I am with English. It was VERY difficult, but I got the gist of everything pretty quickly. We went to a party thing with his parents that evening, and after some food, some music and well a bottle or two of rose, I was off speaking French and boring them about my uni. And also dancing with his mum. Not really sure why, but it was fun anyway!
The next day, we visited his grandfather and other members of his family before have a banter off round Angouleme. After persuading him to come into ZARA and H&M, then leaving 5 minutes later because the look of utter despair had arrived on his face, I got to see all the art on the walls of buildings in Angouleme. But, forgot my camera. As I am an idiot. Still, it was a lovely place! We met Ivan later on that night for some drinks in Hacienda, a weird kind of jazz bar. I still hate jazz, but I did educate Renaud on the differences between malt and blended whiskeys, and how you should drink them - not with coke, like he does. He and Ivan also took great delight in the fact my Mum's maiden name is Campbell, as they drink "Clan Campbell" whiskey, so are excited I am from that "Clan". Just like how Renaud asked me "Do you know what H.D. is?". No, sorry; In Scotland, we still either live in castles or mud huts and wear kilts everyday.
The rest of the time in Angouleme was fairly uneventful, apart from me becoming ill and my left tonsil swelling uncontrollably, sleeping till all hours of the day, drinking a hell of a lot of coffee, Renaud completing Zelda, and the joys of French television. After a half hour delay we got the train back on the Tuesday, and that was that. Back in Poitiers!
Thursday brought the arrival of yet another party in Dimitri's, where we consumed much alcohol - some of us more than others!!! It was a good night though, despite a little drama here and there! Friday again was quiet, only because we were resting for Saturday. Now, Saturday. There's a tale. The night began with Hannah G and I watching "Anchorman", shouting out the quotes continually, and drinking (very strong) White Russians. After spilling milk on my floor, stealing my make up, and other forms of verbal abuse, we left for Megan Maguire's house, where she, Lorna, Zoe and Jess were already getting the party going. After a rather revealing game of "I've never", the conversation descended into the most disgusting topics that I will not put on here as they will probably upset my mother - BUT YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THEY WERE! A few sex on the beaches, white Russians, and whatever the hell else later, we were soon dancing to my ssupposedly "shite" choice in music, such as the Spice Girls, Vengaboys, various rap songs, and whatever else. Hannah Mc and Marta showed up just as we began to dance around, and the pictures certainly proved we had a good time. If not a bit of a drunken, mad time.
Hannah, Hannah, Marta and I went to a little bar near Meg's for some drinks, and on the way to the toilets Hannah G and I discovered some kind of secret passage way thing. I.E. we got VERY lost. Still, we discovered plates, bottles of wine, cups/grails... It's all a bit hazy and strange now, but we tried to go further down but got scared and ran back up the stairs, with me shouting "I FEEL LIKE SOMETHINGS CHASING ME!!". Hannah got freaked out and went home after that, and Hannah Mc, Marta and I went to the goule where we had a good old boogie.
Wednesday this week brought an early installment of Dimitri's party, as we had the day off today for remembrance day - how banterful of you, France. Again, alcohol was consumed and much banter was had! It was also Katie's first night out since her return fro Glasgow, and Marta's 21st! After some delicious pecan pie/cake/whatever, Marta's friends gave her presents and the birthday girl proceeded to get fairly drunk. But we made her happy, so we were happy!
Tonight (jeudi soir) I am resting up and doing nothing. Watching some Family Guy, South Park, chatting online and drinking tea. Tomorrow is where the party's at!
On that note, here is a quote from last night that represents every one's liking of my globe necklace, and how we Scottish/English/Irish etc folk have a really gay way of saying "happy birthday":
ERASMUS IN A GLOBE.COM/ FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW
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