Due to the activities of monkey-boy hackers, I just heard that Employees.org is going to be taken off-line, permanently. This is such a shame: it was a free service maintained by volunteers within the company out of the goodness of their hearts. Nice choice of target, monkey-boys. *sigh*
Anyway, I'm going to have to find a new home for my blog, so I may be gone a while. I'll get forwarding set up once I know where it's going to be.
That ruined my weekend.
...Psycho has a new man. Or an old man. Both, in fact: the chap she broke up with a year or two ago (and regretted it) has finally been found and reinstated as Boyfriend™.
He's the one who was too young mentally (being six years younger than her, hrm!), but was otherwise a really good chap who I do not recall having a single problem with - very rare. She's in Floaty Love Mode™. Makes me want to puke. He's grown up a lot in the last couple of years and they're both very happy.
So am I, since she's off my case for the moment.
Today is Difficult Decision Day. OK, so the entry title is misleading and insulting to those who actually are living in poverty, but that's how I feel at the moment. When I came to France, I had over half a million French Francs of debt. Five years of contract work and a heck of a lot of cutbacks got me out of that hole (a feat of which I am rather proud), but the apartment purchase has dropped my bank balance to below zero this month. Given my past, this is understandably a very scary situation, although in real terms not a very serious one.
Since digging myself out of that financial nightmare over the last few years, my lifestyle has changed pretty dramatically. Where I used to stack endless piles of accumulated junk and worthless nonsense in attempts to fulfill a lack of affection (oooh, psychology), I now have few possessions and only keep what is essential or important. The move to the new place proved this, with only boxes of computer CDs and films on DVD, a big bag of clothes, a few items of furniture, the PC and a couple of boxes of 'stuff'.
Of course, part of my problem is that I am overly generous with money. In the last month before buying the new place, I estimate that well over 50% of my income went to other people. That's how I am: I honestly believe life pays us back for the things we do - both good and bad - and would prefer to be generous and poor than horrible and rich. Life has so far been kind in return, for example by ensuring I never get into trouble at the bank, my mortgage rate is low and I found a really cool place that wasn't expensive. Not to mention continued good health (in general) and a cuddly cat.
So, the Difficult Decision. I would very much like to go over to IKEA on Friday and pick up some shelves and other small items for the new place, but the bank won't be very happy with me. I have a little cash tucked away in a secret place (OK, so it's a savings account and isn't secret at all, but it sounded more impressive that way) that I could use for this purpose, but I'd rather not. I could also wait another week until I get paid, then go. The advantage of going there on Friday is that it's a "bridge day" between tomorrow's public holiday and the weekend, so there won't be many people and I'll have extra days to do the actual installation.
Do I dive into debt for a week or so, or do I hold on and go later? Choices, choices. All this decision-making is very bad for me, I'm sure.
This one comes via 'wittykitty', who's listed on the blogroll of the lady who "puts the fg back into jackie". :)
1. WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME? As if I'd tell you that.
2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER SOMEONE? Nope.
3. NICKNAMES: Spike, Titi, Nounouille and several insulting ones.
4. HOMETOWN: Shoeburyness, in the UK.
5. TOWN YOU LIVE IN: Paris.
6. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? In the same hospital as Amanda Tapping of Stargate SG-1 fame.
7. HAIR COLOR: Brown
8. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY COLOR HAIR, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Black.
9. EYE COLOR: Blue.
10. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? No.
11. PIERCINGS: None. *shudder*
12. SIGN & BIRTHDAY: Capricorn.
13. WHAT DID YOU DO FOR YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY? Nothing, just as I wanted.
14. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR: None particularly.
15. FAVORITE MONTH: May (lots of public holidays!).
16. FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK: Thursday.
17. SIBLINGS AND AGES: Four brothers, all older than me.
18. PETS: Pie 'Oh' Pah, the cat.
19. IF YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON DEAD OR ALIVE: Intelligent response would be Albert Einstein. Nighttime response would be Winona Ryder.
20. WHAT COLOR PANTS ARE YOU WEARING? Trousers, please. Black.
21. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Purple.
22. FAVORITE COLORS: Black and purple.
23. LEAST FAVORITE COLOR: Probably yellow.
24. HOW ARE YOU TODAY? Tired.
25. SUMMER OR WINTER? Preferred season, season to abolish or simply a choice between two words?
26. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: My own apartment, at last!
27. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Uh, a mouse...
28. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT? Played Tropico 2.
29. FAVORITE SMELLS: Coffee, newly baked bread, fresh-cut grass, the sea.
30. LEAST FAVORITE SMELLS: Old cat food, sweaty people, burnt potatoes.
31. CAN YOU TOUCH YOUR NOSE WITH YOUR TONGUE? I have no particular desire to do so, thank you.
32. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX: The smile.
33. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT? Absolutely.
34. HUGS OR KISSES? Yes, please.
35. FIRST TEENAGE (OR PRE-TEEN) MOVIE STAR CRUSH: Carrie Fisher as Princess Leia.
36. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE-NIGHT STANDS? Neither, thanks. Life sucks enough without them.
37. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE? Yes.
38. HAVE YOU EVER LOVED SOMEONE SO MUCH IT MADE YOU CRY? If 37 = TRUE Then "Yes".
39. WHAT INSPIRES YOU? Calm people, cats and sunny days.
40. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME: Unlikely, but I guess I'd go for Manon.
41. FAVORITE FLOWER: One that isn't dead.
42. DO YOU WISH ON STARS? No. Well, unless you count wishing Winona Ryder were waiting for me to come home tonight.
43. WHICH FINGER IS YOUR FAVORITE? This one, right here.
44. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? Last time a film reminded me of my dad being dead.
45. IF THERE WAS A MOVIE ABOUT YOU WHO WOULD PLAY YOU? Knowing my luck, Ron Perlman after a severe diet. Or someone equally unattractive. Matthew Perry would be a possibility for the sense of humour.
46. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Yes, or I'd change it.
47. WHO ARE YOU JEALOUS OF? No one I can think of right now.
48. DO YOU HAVE ANY BAD HABITS? Stupid question: everyone does.
49. WHAT STORE WOULD YOU NEVER BE CAUGHT IN? Ann Summers.
50. ARE YOU A DARE-DEVIL? I can see and I'm not a superhero.
51. HAVE YOU EVER STOLEN ANYTHING? Yup.
52. DO LOOKS MATTER? Unless you're blind, yes. Anyone who says otherwise is lying (although they don't matter as much as other stuff).
53. DO YOU PRAY? No.
54. HAVE YOU EVER MET/SEEN ANYONE FAMOUS? Only Scary Ross, who is a legend in his own lunchtime and has his face on Interpol posters all over Europe. Er, hang on...
55. DO YOU THINK THERE IS A POT OF GOLD AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW? I see no rainbow.
56. ARE YOU TRENDY? Hah! If trendiness were measured by proximity to zero, I would be infinite.
57. WHAT DO YOU DO TO VENT ANGER? Swear in French.
58. ARE YOU PASSIVE OR AGGRESSIVE? Passive.
59. DO YOU TRUST OTHERS EASILY? No. And you can remove the word 'easily'.
60. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD? Define 'child'.
61. WHAT CLASS IN SCHOOL DID YOU THINK WAS TOTALLY USELESS? Art.
62. DO YOU LIKE SAPPY LOVE SONGS? Not really. I prefer angst, Cure style.
63. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON RADIO OR TELEVISION? Seated on them, yes.
64. HAVE YOU EVER INTENTIONALLY HURT SOMEONE? Yes.
65. DO YOU LIKE SARCASM? Of course not. (<- sarcastic response)
66. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A MOSH PIT? Yes.
67. DO YOU FEEL UNDERSTOOD MOST OF THE TIME? Practically never.
68. WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE A SORE THROAT OR AN UPSET STOMACH? Sore throat.
69. HAVE YOU THOUGHT SERIOUSLY ABOUT COMMITTING SUICIDE? Yes.
70. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES EVERY TIME YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Every time. I have wide feet that are difficult to get into shoes unless they're untied.
71. WHAT ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT RIGHT NOW? Not having any money.
72. DO YOU EVER WEAR OVERALLS? Nope.
73. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Physically, emotionally, spiritually or mentally?
74. HOW MANY KEYS ARE ON YOUR KEY RING? Four and a plastic doobrie for opening an electronic lock.
75. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR KITCHEN PLATES? I don't have any.
76. WHAT’S THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP? What's that bloody annoying beeping noise?
77. HOW MANY RINGS BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE? One or two.
78. WHAT IS MOST IMPORTANT IN LIFE? Peace and calm.
79. WHAT IS THE #1 PRIORITY IN YOUR LIFE? making it to payday without the bank phoning.
80. WHAT SONG DESCRIBES YOU? The Kiss, by The Cure.
81. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? Not unless you count that cat after his dinner.
82. STORMS - COOL OR SCARY? Cool.
83. IS THE GLASS HALF-FULL OR HALF-EMPTY? What glass? I'm an optimist, but I see no glass here.
84. DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS? Yes, or this wouldn't make sense. I don't touch-type.
85. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? The floor.
86. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER? Thirteen.
87. WHAT IS YOUR SINGLE BIGGEST FEAR? Spiders. *shudder*
88. WHAT SCREEN SAVER IS ON YOUR COMPUTER RIGHT NOW? There isn't one.
89. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TOILET PAPERING? You mean decorating them or what?
90. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A CAR ACCIDENT? No, thankfully.
91. TASTES GREAT OR LESS FILLING? What does or is? Is this another optimism question or a thing about being fat?
92. DISNEY OR WARNER BROS.? Warner. I hate Disney with a vengeance, despite their incredibly smart move to shuffle Pixar in-house.
93. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BEDROOM? Uh, blue, I think. I don't remember. It's dark at night.
94. WHOM DID YOU GET YOUR LAST EMAIL FROM? An automated helpdesk tracking system. That should be "From whom did you get...".
95. WHICH STORE WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO MAX OUT YOUR CREDIT CARD? Alienware.
96. WHAT DO YOU DO MOST OFTEN WHEN YOU ARE BORED? Play PC games or download stuff.
97. MOST ANNOYING THING PEOPLE ASK/SAY TO YOU: "Can you help me with my computer?"
98. WHAT TIME DO YOU GO TO BED? After midnight.
99. WHO DID YOU LAST EAT OUT WITH? Psycho.
100. HOW IS THE WEATHER RIGHT NOW? Sunny and hot.
101. FAVORITE RELAXATION SPOT: Chair in front of the PC, cat on lap.
102. FAVORITE BOARD GAME: Uh... don't have one.
103. DO YOU CARRY A DONOR CARD? Absolutely.
104. FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK: I don't drink. I'd probably choose a really good red wine. St Estephe. Mmmmm.
105. LIFETIME GOALS: Live quietly, don't live to over 80, be so damned rich I can stop working for stupid-arse managers.
One of the big advantages of living in France - as well as one of the big disadvantages - is the socialist history of the country. Currently, of course, we have a capitalist government here that, personally, I think is a good thing to wake the French up to the fact that they can't carry on being quite so socialist if they want to survive in today's global economy.¹
However, given that the socialists had been in power for so long before the change at the last election², workers' benefits are very impressive here. The national health service works (and works well), paid holidays are plentiful, the 35-hour working week is in effect and it's very difficult for a company to fire people without a damned good reason.
What does this have to do with the expression 'a month of Sundays'? Well, here in France, the month of May contains no less than four public holidays: labour day, victory day, ascension and Whitsunday. Add to this the 35-hour week and the willingness of companies to hand out a couple of bridge days every year and you have a month where up to six days are free. This, of course, also works well with actual holidays: use three or four of your yearly allowance and you can sometimes end up with 10 days or more away from the office.
Wonderful.
¹ Ye gods, I hate that expression.
² There were two reasons the capitalists won: firstly, a large number of people were fed up with the old socialist leader, Lionel Jospin, and basically "protest-voted"; secondly, the protest vote worked... and the national front got into the final run for Prime Minister. This, of course, was extremely embarrassing for France (Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité goes out the window and becomes Racism, Xenophobia, Police State).
I'm back. Well, at least I'm around for a few days, while at work. Unfortunately the bureaucracy surrounding ADSL installation here in France sucks the big one, so I won't have a decent connection for at least ten days. I'm currently on dialup at home (which is horrifically slow) and so am taking advantage of the office connection now that I'm back at work after the move.
The move itself went pretty well, all things considered. My personal move was, of course, very easy. Much as anticipated, I had about a dozen boxes, a couple of bags and half a dozen bits of furniture to shuffle to the new place: easy peasy lemon squeezy. Psycho's move, however, was even more of a nightmare than I could possibly have imagined: dozens of bags of clothes, tens of boxes, piles and piles of accumulated crap - and there's STILL stuff in her old place that needs dealing with. So much for having three weeks to prepare before the final date. *sigh*
Good news for the movers, too: they were excellent. Four guys came to deal with everything and had it all done in three and a half hours. They were pleasant, amusing, efficient and honest (one of them found money lying around at Psycho's while neither of us was there, but handed it to me when I returned). One of them even dismantled and rebuilt the mezzanine for Psycho - a service for which I had paid, of course - and did it really well. Superb.
Anyways, I'm all moved in now: the lounge/salon/living room is neat and tidy with my computer and desk set up at one end and the sofa at the other. The bedroom has my boxes stacked in a corner, since I still have no shelving to put anything on. Unfortunately, I managed to bruise a thigh muscle on Wednesday evening (by slipping on the wooden floor while attempting to avoid squashing the cat, thus falling flat on my face... and on my keys) which was so painful for the next day or two that I couldn't walk very well, let alone carry anything heavy. Most annoying, as I had planned to zip over to IKEA and get some shelving. I'll do that at the end of this week.
In the meantime, I've been getting used to the new place: it's nice and quiet, light and homey. Pie is accustomed to his new abode - it took him five or six days in all - and the only problem is an upstairs neighbour who apparently walks as graciously as Frankenstein's monster. Still, it's no big deal to have a bit of thudding over my head: the PC drowns it.
While I spent most of the week tidying, cleaning and playing games on the computer (since I had no internet connection), Pie spent the majority of the first few days hiding under the duvet. Every time there was a delivery, he hid - and still does. On the other hand, I can't leave without him following me downstairs to the courtyard, where he sniffs around. It's a real voyage of discovery for him right now - including native life in the form of someone else's cat. Hostile or friendly? Unknown for the moment. From what I can see, despite being bigger than Pie (yes, a pretty spooky thought), he wouldn't stand a chance. Hopefully it won't come to that: I'm avoiding any contact between them at present.
Still, the best thing about the new place has to be... that I finally have a washing machine!
My arm muscles, I mean. What were you thinking? With all the heavy lifting, cleaning and shuffling of furniture I'm doing at the moment, I'm surprised my biceps haven't grown to Herculean proportions, come leaping out of my shirt and invaded the nearest small Eastern European country.
Well, obviously that's a bit of an overstatement. I am, however, surprised at the amount of crap I still own and have to carry up and down stairs between apartments. Last night, I took the first batch over to the new place: ten boxes of DVDs, CDs and books (plus some other general junk) and my sculpture of Bast. I went over at about 1:30 in the morning, since the street is quite thin and parking in the middle of the day would inconvenience just about everyone.
Thankfully, there's construction going on just opposite the new place: this is good news because construction workers start their day very early. This means that no one dares park in front of their site entrance, which is directly opposite my front door and so is the perfect place to put the car while I'm carrying boxes! Excellent.
In a bizarre turn of events, once I had stacked my boxes in a corner, I noticed that the new place seemed bigger. My guess is that the act of placing an object into the previously empty space gave me a reference for size, something to relate to. Whatever it was, it was a pleasant surprise.
The next step, of course, is to move the PCs and the rest of my stuff over. I'm thinking of doing that on Saturday night: it has to be done before Monday, since the movers come then to carry furniture.
'Tis done. I am now a home owner or, to be slightly more precise, someone who will own a home in twenty years' time once the mortgage is paid off! It's a really strange feeling, particularly since I haven't moved in yet: I keep finding these keys in my pocket and thinking "What the...? What are these? What am I doing with someone else's keys?!"
The whole signature thing was a bit of an event, so I'm going to write a fair amount today. Those who are easily bored should go to a more interesting web site now. Those who have nothing better to do than read mundane ramblings... well, read on!
Thursday was the day before the signing. I was working from home when the notaire called to tell me there was a problem: they hadn't received confirmation from the bank that the cheque would be available on Friday morning! I called the bank and spoke to a lady there who promised to call the legal people and sort it out. Excellent. Of course, a few hours later, the notaire called again: they'd sent the request that the bank had never received, but had heard nothing back. To make matters worse, the director at my branch had hung up on the notaire as she was speaking. How rude is that?!
Anyway, I called the bank back and sorted things out for the cheque: it would be there for the signing. I also had a few words about the director and have demanded an apology from him today: a mistake in paperwork I can understand, blatant rudeness I cannot. If he doesn't apologise by the end of the week, his boss will hear about it... then his boss, then his boss and so on up to the CEO of the whole damned company.
Friday was, of course, the main event. Thankfully, the notaire is near my bank, so I knew the area reasonably well. Despite this, I miscalculated travel time (on foot) and arrived early, but that's better than arriving late. The young lady who dealt with the sale was, I must say, very yummy.
The flat owner was also there - in fact, two sisters owned the place, but the other one couldn't come, so only one turned up. That was a shame, because the one who couldn't make it is a psychiatrist, which would have made for an interesting conversation: not to say that the lady there, who is an administrative secretary at the Ministry of Defense, was boring. A very nice lady, in fact.
So the papers were read and signed and, some two hours later, I had the keys! I'm a home owner! Wooohoooo!