Since I am in a bit of a sour mood I decided to pick up a box of frÜ Sicilian Lemon cheesecake dessert. It's good if a bit expensive, and their GÜ range of chocolate desserts is not too bad either.
Why am I in a sour mood though? One, all the China-bashing in the press has been dragging me down. The protests against the Beijing Olympics and its associated hypocrisy, overbearing presumptiousness, smugness and bare-faced opportunism have been so unrelenting it's effects have instead waken some latent Nationalist sentiments in myself. My father would be proud of me I think.
Two, the métro station closest to my school is closed until mid-June so I am not liking this inconvenience.
Three, I just spent a whole morning reading this rubbish book called Doggy Bag by a French writer Philippe Djian. He tries to write in a chick flick meets American prime-time series format and fails abjectly: the plot never moves along, earthquakes mix uneasily with alcoholism and preoccupation with sex, one third of the way through and I still couldn't tell the characters apart. I should have saved my 8 euros for an Asterix comic or settle for yet another translated P.G Wodehouse caper.
Four, I was walking along the streets and at the corner of Ave George V and Ave Pierre Charron I spied from the corner of my eye a tall suited Caucasian man walking at cross angles and mentally calculated that at the speeds we were both walking along we would definitely bump into each other. In the past I would have stopped, or veered to the side but I was in a mutinous mood. Why should it be me who gives way? The French would never do such a thing, if they bump into you they pretend it didn't happen, if I bumped into them first I would be "tsked tsked" at. Husband says only the Chinese and Japanese do the zig zag walk, and bearing his words in mind I walked straight ahead and hoped for the best. The tall white man in the suit stopped, if he was a cartoon car he would have slammed onto the brakes and screeched to a halt. Whew, I quickly walked away, but not before hearing him say "Pardon" in an English accent. I felt a little bad, but also pleased. Which also explains why when I was perusing the dessert shelf in Carrefour I shunned all the French brands and went English instead!
