Il commence à sembler beaucoup comme Noël

It's home time for this wandering wastrel.  Great Britain had better be ready for the onslaught of returning year abroad students.  We're used to a certain level of European pretentiousness now and intend to inflict every ounce of it on our nearest and dearest.  I would apologise but all I can seem to say is "excusez-moi, où est le vin?"  I'm sure a couple of days back in Somerset will jolt me to my senses.  Or if that fails a pint of cider should wipe that smug smile off my face.  Having not drunk a drop for three months I have a feeling it's going to hit me a lot harder than usual - thanks in advance for picking me up off the floor.

In all seriousness I couldn't wait to go home.  This has nothing to do with France - I love it here in case you haven't noticed - but it is quite hard when little bro keeps sending me pictures of this cutie:

 
I'm so excited about little Baxter that I've turned into a bit of a puppy nazi.  There are a lot of puppies about in Aix at the moment (let's hope they know a dog isn't just for Christmas....I'd better translate that just in case) and every one I see just reminds me of how cute Baxter Baggins is.  So I judge.  Inevitably I can find something that the owner is doing horribly wrong  and therefore an excuse to puppy-nap it.  Definitely worth the potential prison sentence.

In an unexpected turn of events my one private pupil has multiplied into four which apparently means I have some vague teaching skills.  One is even an adult who doesn't seem too impressed with my childish enthusiasm and my poorly-concealed obsession with her cat.  At least one of my other clients realises that my favourite bit about teaching her daughter is playing with her various pets.  She has seriously suggested that I get a cat for my apartment which is horribly tempting - she clearly isn't aware of my puppy-napping desires.  To be honest it's only the thought of what I would be putting my poor flatmate through that is stopping me.

In an effort to avoid that dispute I went to an Albert Camus exhibition at the Cite des Livres.  Yeah, all cultural like.  What should have been a very enlightening visit turned out to be a crusher of dreams as I realised that any hint of intellectuality I once possessed has completely left me, probably driven out by vast quantities of wine.  No longer can I actually analyse literature.  This clearly does not bode well for my degree so one of my New Years Resolutions is to regain some literary ability, if I ever had any at all.  I decided to start simple and attempted to get to grips with this idea:

Sadly, the thought drove me to yet more wine.  Sigh.

A slightly less wine-fuelled event has been dominating Aix-en-Provence every Monday night.  One of the consequences of being friends with two Germans is that a bit of national rivalry occasionally springs up - in our case in the form of a bowling competition.  Every week the competition seems to get more and more heated so this week Sam was determined to defeat the "Brave Bavarians" once and for all.  After warming up with a bit of table football where I definitely got far too competitive we once again set about thrashing the Huns.  Or at least Sam did.  To say that I am rubbish at bowling would be a bit of an understatement.  I have about as much aim as a drunk man in a nightclub so I wasn't exactly helpful with the lederhosen-bashing.  However thanks to Sam's weird obsession with filming everyone's bums I even have evidence that just occasionally I can actually bowl:

Like a pro.  Or not - my complete lack of teckers still shines through.  Let's hope that 2014 sees a drastic improvement.

We've been getting rather excited about Christmas in Aix - those of you who saw my last post will have seen the pictures of the lights which are just stunning.  Along with all the panicked Christmas shopping we found time to have a Christmas dinner with turkey, brussel sprouts, pigs in blankets, roast potatoes, Christmas pudding, the lot!  Just replace 'turkey' with 'roast chickens bought at the market' and 'Christmas pudding' with 'ridiculously good peanut butter fudge'.  It was very fun and very Christmassy, mostly helped along by my 105 song long Christmas playlist.  Actually I'm not sure it helped at all as apparently having a playlist that long is "a bit weird".  It seems I'm never going to escape this adjective.

On a final note you may have noticed my reference to Leigh Halfpenny's blazing hotness in my last post.  I decided that I should probably see his dazzling brilliance in person so this petite fille is going to see Toulon v Cardiff Blues in Nice in January.  Weekend away in Nice.  Casual.  I realised that I haven't done nearly as much travelling as I hoped while I'm here, mainly due to the fact that my apartment eats my money, and if I'm going to spend painful amounts of money then I should at least have Leigh Halfpenny in short shorts as my compensation.  And the whole blue sky, blue sea thing too.  Not forgetting Jonny Wilkinson either.  Bliss.  

Anyway, thank you for reading, and Merry Christmas to you all from Baxter and I.  Oh wait, make that Joyeaux Noël!

Le Chat Noir et Une Vieille Fille

Recently I spent the most exciting week of my year abroad yet.  I had been looking forward to it for some time as having sunk into a depression caused by Wales' crushing defeat by South Africa I had become slightly more introverted.  There are just so many what ifs.  What if we hadn't lost three players to injury in the first half hour?  What if the Welsh players hadn't been so dazzled by Leigh Halfpenny's blazing hotness that they forgot to actually score tries?  We will never know.  This despondency is not helped by the fact that it is now less than 20 degrees Celsius here.  It's actually quite cold.  They promised me heat.  Not impressed.

Anyway back to the fun week.  Super-godmother Jane has been on holiday with her mother so when husband Tim had to work in England for a week there was an issue: who was going to look after their cats?  My well-honed cat-sitting skills were required and I did not fail them.  Pallino and Mimi have probably never been so cuddled (unwillingly might I add) in their lives.

But seriously, how are you not supposed to cuddle those two gorgeous beings?  I think this photo conveys what Mimi thought of how excited I was:

Anyway I had a lovely time enjoying cat cuddles, a comfy bed, a warm apartment and a proper functioning kitchen.  And the odd glass of vino.  I mean it rarely gets better than a glass of wine with a cat on your lap.

As you can tell, I probably enjoyed my feline themed week slightly more than is socially acceptable, meaning that my friends have realised that I'm a crazy cat lady who probably needs an intervention.  I suppose it was only a matter of time before they found out - everyone at home has known this for a long time but I was hoping to keep it hidden out here for a while longer.  You know, new country new me kind of thing.  So to save myself from further becoming a massive granny I took to taking pictures of sunsets:

#nofilter
And taking day trips to picturesque Provençal villages such as Vauvenargues:

It seems there is no hope for me.  Faced with my increasingly inevitable spinsterhood I decided to take drastic action.  Or rather my mother took drastic action.  WE HAVE A PUPPY.  I have gone from not wanting to go home at all to wishing I was there.  Spinsterhood is confirmed and I don't even care because I'll have a little cocker spaniel to keep me company.  Along with my cats.  Fab.

Given our new arrival the traditional family arguments about what to call him have started in full swing.  To honour the fact that our beautiful English Setter is called Arwen, I want to call him something Lord of the Rings related, like Frodo, Sam or Bilbo Baggins.  These have all been rejected in favour of................Baxter.  Arwen and Baxter.  Interesting.  However, the potential for Anchorman related jokes is now unlimited and therefore I begrudgingly approve.  Take a look at this cutie:

  And I meant the dog, not little bro.  Jeez.

Back to French related things.  I had my first visitor!  Charlie decided he was crazy enough to try my wine-filled lifestyle and visited for a weekend.  Hopefully I didn't put him off the French forever.  I have also landed my first private tuition job which means that someone actually thinks I'm vaguely competent.  Shocking, I know.  However, spending a whole hour with one little girl uses up most of my teaching ideas within the first 15 minutes, so any ideas to keep her occupied would be much appreciated.  Also, several of my classes seem to actually like me.  When I went to collect my sixième from the playground this week they all started waving and screaming "Katie, Katie!"  Ego = boosted.  Now to convince my beautiful 21yr olds that I'm just as cool as them.  I think telling them about the cats should do it.

Today being the 1st December I have finally relented and let myself listen to Christmas music.  Heaven.  The lights in Aix went up a couple of weeks ago so it has been hard not to turn into a delirious child.  I mean come on, how gorgeous do these look?

   Michael Bublé eat your heart out.  Now all I need is to find some mince pies in this strange country...