Pho-toss!

So I thought I should post some photos or something. But most of my photos have taken up perpetual habitation in the memory card of my camera and are refusing to move, so you just can't have them. Seriously, they've got wigwams in a little circle and a Chief Shaman. You don't wanna mess with them.

At Disneyland! Mathilde, Penguin, Juliette, Penguin, Penguin.

Mathilde and Solveig, the adorable baby

Me, Louis and Juliette at Montmartre

The photo of Amelie in the restaurant from Amelie

Photos courtesy of Juliette

And! A vague not-held-back-by-15-minutes-internet-time-at-an-airport summary of the last few days of the 5 weeks! Aren't you pleased? If you're not, you should be. Turn that frown upside down. Alternatively, turn it 90 degrees, and you'll have a right parenthesis!

That's a smile, not an upside down frown!

Better.

First of all, plane flight update: We finally got to watch Sin City, and our reaction at the end was something like this - ???
Why is this so? I dunno. Was it the yellow man chasing Jessica Alba? Was it the plots that did not relate as far as we could see? Was it Not Matt Damon running around on rooftops killing red ladies for no adequately explained reason? Was it the guys who didn't die even though they had gun barrels sticking out of their head? Was it the fact that Elijah Wood ate hookers in a barn? Yeah, I think that may have contributed a little.
It was testament to how bizarre the film was that I didn't even blink at the last one. Oh, but I did laugh because he looked like Harry Potter. You know, evil satanic Harry Potter.

And the rest of the plane trip is blank for me, possibly because that is getting into "Have not slept in 22 hours" territory. I remember Italian Talon and quite a lot of glaring, the reason for which I cannot recall. We landed, we went through customs, we marvelled at the guys in the line behind us in boardies and thongs and singlet tops. We kept singing GCN Rainbow Road. Normal stuff.

Hell, that plane trip was nine hours and Sin City went for 2. What on earth did we do? That's going to bug me for ages now. Oh well. Onto... Wednesday?

The Chateau was full of allll the paintings we got in History, including the "Why the long face, Marie Antoinette?" "The peasants are revolting!" paintings. The guards must have thought I was crazy giggling to myself when I saw these, but, whatever, they get to sit in a giant-ass castle all day so that is their comeuppance. And then we went shopping. Shopping involving strange comic books, French Alice Munro, and the Best Thing Ever for one euro, which came with the World's Hugest Bag, which sent us into hysterics every five seconds, causing more French people to think we were crazy. And we bought chocolate. And then we went to see French Twilight, getting very confused by the ads ("Oh, this is that Largo Winch thing, it's like a cross between James Bond and Alex Rider. Gee it really looks like Terminator. See look, right there, Largo Winch is the Terminator. They're just copying this whole plot off Terminator! Oh, wait, it is Terminator") and the movie ("So has it started yet or is this an ad for the live-action Bambi?") and also getting highly distressed by my ringtone (she told me to turn it off. So what do I do? I say "I hope it doesn't, listen to how annoying it is" and then I forget to turn it off. And then I get a call. In the middle of the movie). I got really late home, but it was OK because we were going to get pizza. Juliette then decided she didn't want pizza, so we went to the Chinese place next door, Mathilde telling me that "If my dad asks, we didn't get pizza because you don't have Chinese food in Australia and you wanted to taste it." So I ate Chinese for the first time in my entire life. Cough.

Juliette's dad on the way to the airport spent the entire time telling me off about how I didn't immerse myself enough because I talked to my friends sometimes on MSN in English. The power of the remark was just a teensy bit lost because of the fact that he was speaking to me in English, like he always did (especially when Juliette wasn't looking). Oh well. If I gained nothing language-wise like he thinks, now at least I have a french SIM card that calls me at 5 every morning without fail to tell me how to call France. I think perhaps France is having separation issues. I'm sorry, honey, I'm married to the sea.

Miss you Juliette :)