From Robin Hood to Deep Dish Pizza to the highest bridge in the world and back again

And so we are off. I have finished my last day at work, no tears were shed, but I did get a nice bottle of champagne and a very heart-warming card signed by my colleagues. 4:45 am wake up call tomorrow. And by 2:30 the Frenchman and his new haircut will step foot on American soil for the first time.

New years eve in Millau, France and then back up to Paris for a few days of debauchery.

We're also taking a stow away... Tommy the Tiger has been put in our possession to help him start off his journey across the world and back. You can find out more about our travelling companion HERE

I will be updating the blog on my travels as often as possible.

Merry Chrimbo to all and to all a goodnight!

PS. We are in desperate need of the last five episodes of LOST from the first series. This is a matter of life and death. Please help our cause. And if anyone gives anything away about the second series I have ways of causing you severe physical pain. Happy Holidays!

My short lived career as a hairdresser

You may be asking yourself why I am crying. Why would a young, happy girl with her life in front of her, at this joyous christmas season just days before being whisked off with her boyfriend to spend snow filled holidays in Chicago have her big blue eyes full of tears?

Why? Because I did THIS to my boyfriend:



I told him I didn't want to cut his hair. I didn't want anything to do with his electric razor so close to his neck. That'll teach him to trust me again. Thankfully I was the only one crying, choking on my tears surround by piles of his hair on the bathroom floor saying " I broke your head, I broke your head". He however just laughed and said, "it's only hair". Poor thing is going to have to not only meet my friends for the first time, but bare the cold Chicago winter with a friggin' hole in his hair.


But seriously, I broke my boyfriend's head. I am officially this season's worst girlfriend ever.

Food glorious, Food

Fresh bounty from the local market. Half of which went rotten and we had to through away. I don't know weights and measurements, so I always end up unwittingly asking for too much - as in two kilos of potatoes for me and Stephane. We got spuds coming out of our ears.



Corned beef hash with poached egg. My first time eating corneed beef... tastes like cat food.



Bangers and Mash. We had this the other Sunday watching the Royal Variety Show - never felt so English in my life.




Cous Cous with roasted tomatoes and aubergines...I think. Actually, I don't even remember what I put in this, but it was good.



A dish I often fall back on: pasta with courgettes in a blue cheese sauce - usually I put shrimp with this.



And last but not least, my belated Thanksgiving day meal: Turkey and stuffing (good lord my stuffing was good), mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and gravy.

Birthday festivities

An affectionate Birthday boy. Sometimes it's a fine line between Gay and Continental European...



Showered with cards, free beer and, uh, a male clothing catalogue (like I said - it's a fine line)



Bob and I in deep English banter



And me and the Birthday boy - like a fine wine, I'm finding that Frenchmen get better with age.

Joyeux Anniversaire

In honour of my favorite Frenchman’s birthday:

What I love about Stephane

1. His childish smile
2. His intelligence
3. His ability to put everyone around him at ease
4. How he handles and diffuses all of my bad moods
5. His generosity with everything
6. His ridiculously thick French accent
7. His mushy hugs
8. How he talks to himself when he’s thinking
9. His soft mountain man beard
And the top reason I love Stephane is….
10. He loves me back

From Black Elvis to Baseball

I know, I've been terrible about writing lately, but in my defence I have the flu and I got fired. So there.
Ok, not really fired, but the extended contract that I was promised by my boss was taken away from me by a bigger boss. While up until Monday I have been turning down job opportunities, shortening vacations and spending as if I actually have a salary waiting for me in the new year.

But I shall not dwell - on to bigger and better things.

After the rather upsetting job news, I decided to meet up with the boyfriend in our pub despite my cough and cold. I knew going home to an empty unkempt studio would have been too much. So I had a few ciders and a few marlborough lights, and after Stephane let me sufficiently vent we decided to steer the conversation to happier things.

New Years Eve. We are invited to one of Stephane's friends house in Millau (where the darling Stephane is from). The theme is "Fan de.." (Fan of...). So we have to dress as something we are fans of. I quite like the idea of going as fans of Baseball. I would get to wear a flirty baseball uniform, complete with short skirt, and barely buttoned baseball jersey and I'd get to dress my Frenchman up in a baseball hat, which warms my heart just at the very though of his little framed bearded face. The only problem with this is that Stephane is not a fan of baseball. He's never been given the chance to be a fan, having never seen a game.

Some other ideas were tossed around, but none stuck.

Until I came up with a brilliant idea: We can get married and be... wait for it, wait for it...Fans of our Love.

He said only if we could get married in Las Vegas by a black Elvis.

So no wedding day yet. But if anyone has any cute ideas for our New Years Eve outfits, I'm all ears.

Here is a list of what Stephane and I are "fans of" collectively:

1. Elvis
2. Pasta
3. Paris
4. Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends
5. Lost
6. Blondie
7. Red wine
8. Drinking at our local
9. Johnny Cash
10. Pub quizzes

post # 374 that contains photos of me

I swear I think my eyes are getting bigger... maybe the bug eyed look will come into style soon.




Here I am with bangs. I actually just flipped my hair over to create fake bangs (aka fang bangs). I was thinking when my hair gets a bit longer to try getting real ones. What do you think? Does it make me look like a four year old? It does doesn't it. But a cute four year old, right?