ForgottenMachine over at Ten Miles Beyond the City has tagged me. Of course, he also said that I didn't have to if I didn't want to but he knows I would never dare say no to him. So he's playing with me like I'm the proverbial lamb. No, I'm not sure there is a proverbial lamb. But there is a very famous fable by Jean de La Fontaine, and take my word for it.
Anyway. Off it goes into the unknown.
10 years ago: Ten years ago, I was getting ready to leave Aberdeen (Scotland) and quit smoking. So I was feeling a few conflicting emotions, not least of which despair, sadness and your basic "my life is over" drama at leaving Aberdeen, in which I had just spent two extravagantly fantastic years, complete with getting dumped on the New Year, being called a piece of furniture (not in so many words, but we were doing a one-act play by Harold Pinter in a festival, A kind of Alaska, and I was Pauline. The adjudicator trashed us, and went on to add that I had a good silent presence. I had just gotten dumped. He'd called me a piece of furniture and that's that), and drinking a lot more than absolutely necessary at all hours of the day. Happy memories.
Also, I was gearing up for my graduation, because as opposed to you all, I had the added excitement of actually having a graduation. No, I don't mean you didn't have one. I mean we in France don't have those. Nothing like it, except in schools that just love to pretend. It's not part of our culture, so the black robe, the hat, and the rolled up thingy were an even bigger event for me.
I was also psyching up to quit smoking because everybody was telling me to (I have since acquired a personality), and I duly did (I'm nice that way), for a month and a half, in which I gained a zillion pounds and one hell of a temper. Some people are actually thankful I took it up again.
5 years ago: Aaaah. Let me repeat this for emphasis. Aaaah. Five years ago, I was in Sydney (Australia), working as a translator for the Olympic Games and basically having the time of my life. Every day for ten months, I would walk to work in the morning thinking "Oh my gawd, I'm working for the Olympic Games" with several exclamation marks at the end, and that obviously set my spirits very high. It was fabulous. It was fantastic. It was way too fucking short. Of course there was the odd... tension, like when I stormed out of the office in August (the Games were starting in September), going "if he pisses me off once more, I'm quitting", about my boss. Of course, he did and I didn't. I was having the time of my life, after all, I wasn't going to let anyone ruin it for me.
By the way, if you like sport and you're wanting to discover a new one, and you're in Paris, the European wheelchair basketball championship starts today. I can't urge you enough, it is incredible to watch.
1 year ago: One year ago, in sharp contrast, I was going through what I hope was, is and will have been the very worst time of my life.
Yesterday: was pretty standard in a very hot kind of way (hot as in heat wave - just thought I'd make that clear). Saw a friend, had a few phone calls and, in what is becoming my routine lately, thought about what job would ever want me and where I was going to end up. Except with more optimism than that.
Today: I'm having a busy friends day, I'm supposed to see my friend and her new born baby girl, go back to my former office to pick up a couple of papers, go back to the Assedic office. Oh and the summer sales start today in Paris, so I'm also meeting a friend this morning to start spending as soon as possible. And this evening, I'll go with another friend to a school play starring her daughter. And if I could make my flat presentable at some point during the course of the day that would be nice because...
Tomorrow: a picnic was organised by and with lots of Paris bloggers (and I still don't know what I'm bringing/cooking/preparing) and my parents are arriving in the afternoon to spend a few days in Paris.
I'm quitting here because it's long as it is already.
And I'm not tagging.
But you knew that, didn't you.