The Weeknd

Work has been great for my French, horrible for my social life. Sounds superficial, just means I live for the weekend.

Unfortunately, last Friday at around 6.10pm, one of my bosses called down to reception asking me to go see her for a bit. I headed up, and in about five minutes I headed back down about ready to die of shame. Turns out I made a bit of a blunder doing a complex spreadsheet and had to redo it urgently. All. Of. It. Lines A1-J78.

So it was that I didn’t leave work last week until 8.00pm. In a horrible mood, I headed straight to the metro, and feeling sorry for myself, opted to treat myself to a packet of Oreos from the platform vending machine. Murphy’s Law: they got stuck. I actually hit the machine and can confirm that swearing loudly in your second language is even more satisfying than in your first. So it was that I found myself crying over confectionary in front of a considerable number of people on the station platform. Classy.

After eating Pringles in bed for dinner and napping in front of CSI: New York, I got a text from Lauren who was eagerly awaiting my arrival at our French friend Boris’s. To prevent myself moping around and feeling sorry for myself, I prepped some Journey Juice, put something other than my PJs on, and made my way out. Boris was hosting a number of visitors to Paris, and purely coincidentally he lives with a Durham graduate – after spending hours swapping stories of mutual friends, we headed to La Villa, a cavernous club just metres from the Arc du Triomphe. Standing on a table and waving sparklers until the early hours of the morning is one way to forget the woes of the weekday, that’s for sure.

After sleeping late, I met Sophie and Camilla for brunch and walkabout on the most beautiful, bright, bitterly cold day. We had hoped to get in at Holybelly, my favourite brunch spot, but an hour and a half wait was a bit excessive even though I know how good their dippy eggs are. Instead we went for bowls of warming soup and delicious open sandwiches at Poilâne, before Soph and I strolled through the Marais to Ile Saint-Louis. The perfect lazy Saturday, we then wandered down the Faubourg St Honoré past Colette, the incredible couturiers and some of the most gorgeous hotels in the city.




I finished up my fantastic day with a stunning sunset walk among the Pyramids of the Louvre and the Tuileries Gardens. Views like this make living and working in this city worth it.






Chanson du Jour: Often – The Weeknd


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