Category Archives: Europe

Artistic innit?


To be honest, I don’t really consider myself an artist… more like some knob who creates stuff no one cares about. I’m posting this one (for once, I never post on public sites my artwork), because it’s not very personal, and mr T is in it (not that he knows this of course). It’s an homage. I wanted him to be part of an art piece without him knowing, so now he is a published author too (except he won’t be paid, although, neither am I, so I think we’re equal… here’s hoping he didn’t copy right that photo… which as a by the by isn’t great quality (note to self tell him, if he ever talks to me again, how to use the adjustments on his camera) but who cares, he is part of it. Cool eh!? Even if you said no I wouldn’t give a rats ass.

Enjoy!

(p.s. The story talks a lot about booze. Just in case you thought I was an alcoholic, I just had the results of a blood test and my alcohol levels are good, and, YESSSSSSSS are low too. So screw you metabolism! I can drink like anyone’s business!)

 Hello Toulouse

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Filed under Alcohol, bla bla bla, Clichés, Comics, Culture, Europe, France, Friends, Games People Play, Happiness, Hello?, You

I know. I know.


On/offI have to say, I am feeling rather on the apathetic side today, but I shall stroll through that part of my brain, and go straight to the... Roxy, you are dead cringe now. You're 24. Stop acting like a 12 year old who has a crush on one of the Westlife fellas (can't believe I just wrote "fellas". I will admit, it seems the kind of word that sits quite well next to the band Westlife). Anyway. I have a crush. I know. Shock Horror. Me. Me? Yes. Yes I know. Me. The cringe factor is that I am really shy when it comes to my feelings. I think I don't like really telling people how I feel about a person (whether in a friendly or in a "I like you where it smells funny" kind of like (to quote the Bloodhound Gang (first time they have probably EVER been quoted to be honest anyway)). In any case, I don't know the guy per say (he's in my school, 4th year student... and before you start shouting ERRRRR OLDER MAN... I'm the same age as him, I just had to do 2 degrees first), but he did give me a tour of the school (ok, not personally... but well, it felt like it). He isn't really my type (if I were to define my type anyway) but he has something about him which I find... intriguing? (now I feel like I'm in a Jane Austin book... swoon swoon... (argh)) but to be honest, I feel that really he is hot hot hot... and fuck it, yes I'm going to say it. He's hot with two t's. Usher had it right. It's "hott" in here. I'm not going to say anything about him, safe to say he probably has no idea I exist, and I am actually capable to changing direction in order to avoid him (see, told you. This is the reaction of a 12 year old). Unless I am super drunk, and let's be honest, I am never really drunk... I probably won't say anything. I've only ever asked one guy out... didn't turn out great (I'll briefly mention that he is not talking to me at the moment... I think he's too embarrassed. This is a guy we will call X (original? Yes I think so!) (i digress sorry), all my friends think he is super weird and dodgy (but we have been friends for 5 years on and off, he pisses me off). And we have messed around, but I'm not like that. So yeah. Anyway, never liked him, started to have feelings and he started to be weird. My friends personally feel he's chicken. Or doesn't know what he wants. Well I ain't gunna wait!)
So back to super sexy guy from my school (I say school, I mean art school, for adults. You know. Real humans). I haven't seen him in over a week. i think he's either dead, or hibernating. Which, if it's the latter, sucks because winter is a good excuse to get naked inside with someone... but if he is going to be sleeping all winter, not only is my winter gunna suck (I mean even if i never get to see the inside of his bedroom, I would still like to openly drool in his direction from time to time, but hiding behind a cleverly disguised Jane Austin fan... duh!) But, if he does hibernate all winter, then come spring, he will be one horny little sexpot... but he might jump on any skinny french girl and then I'd be dumb. So... I'm thinking of hatching a plan. Except. That isn't me. So... I think I'll just continue my passive aggressiveness and ignore him, and continue my quest for eternal celibacy. If I'm still single in a year, I'll join either a nunnery... or a bordello. I'm betting on the nunnery.
What is truly depressing, is that all my friends have the same discourse of "you are amazing, super cool, bright... I don't know why you're single". Seriously? Last week I even got a "If I were a guy, I would so go out with you". Really? Well. Fuck me oh riley. I'm not looking for prince charming, I'm looking for a guy who has a brain, a sense of humour, can drink a beer, laugh with my friends, and find the right words for me". Now I'm not saying he has to be gorgeous, I tend to go for guys who look "different". But come on, God, don't send me any really obese guys. A little tummy, I'm cool with. A ridiculous hipster moustache? Fine; I'll deal. A guy who cross-dresses on weekends? Fine. Whatever. But holy fuck. Why, why... WHY am I alone?
I don't say this while slashing my wrists, I'm not depressed... I am seriously questioning myself.  I want to know. I personally think it's because I'm too much to handle. Guys can't take a girl who doesn't take shit from no one, speaks her mind and is generally a eccentric funky person. But at 24 I still have hope. (I say 24... but it's nearly my birthday! Christmas baby everyone!). How long should I wait until signing my death warrant? Or join a covent? (I can totally rhyme!)
25? 27? 50?
I might have to join an online wedding site. You know like in Russia. I'd be doing it legally too, I mean i already have 2 passports, so I don't even need to pretend to marry some guy just for a European passport, because I have two. That said, if it ends up like in the movies, I'll either be married to a heavily obese farmer... or a axe wielding murderer. I think I'll choose the murdering fuck-head. I'm pretty sure he'd make it a fast death. Or maybe like in Reservoir Dogs, he'll cut one of my ears off (which, i'd then go for the fat farmer, I'll just roll him over with the tractor, or fill his gullet with boiled eggs. Fat bastard probably wouldn't even choke. Probably slowly chew each one and ask for more).
Still. Need a plan. Mmmmm fuck it. I'm gunna flash the sexy guy from school (by the way, totally found him on Facebook... the guy has two youtube accounts as well, so I can perv on him from the comfort of my own flat... Now I sound weird).
Logging off. Need to make eggs. (I joke. It will be hot chocolate (no lactose, it will be soy)).
p.s. If the sexy guy from my school, in 4th year happens to pass by and read this (which is doubt, come on... he has never spoken to me)... I'm not a sociopath. I am just very shy and scared of making any decisions that will hurt me).
xxx

			

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Filed under Christmas, Clichés, Cold, Errrrrr ?, Europe, France, Hello?, Holidays, LOL, Men vs. Women, Risk, Sadness, Uncertainty

Fashion Innit ?!


Class by no other word!I realised after 2 years “blogging” (I really hate this term) that I have never EVER written anything about fashion… Now I am no fashion writer, but I suppose in my area (graphic design), if you dress like a weirdo, then you are not booking the client. So, what can I say about fashion?

For me, it is all about quality and a few keys pieces. I will add, that if I was richer, then I would be able to afford tons of clothes, but I am not, so I prefer to cherry pick my favourite brands and pieces. First off, my new obsession… and I mean obsession is “The Orphan Arms”. What I love love LOVE with this brand, is the fact that it is NOT made in China (hurrah!), made by hand and the designs are really what makes Britain! For me, it is not over feminine,  which suits my personality. I don’t wear pink, high heels every day, and I am not a big accessory person either. I like to keep it simple and casual. I usually pair my super cool Orphan Arms sweater, with a nifty little silver necklace, discreet, a pair of skinny jeans (various colours) and a pair of high top sneakers, or ballet flats. With that a lovely duffle coat, old school wooly hat and a scarf my mummy made and voila… here is Roxy’s new look!

For the moment I only have three pieces from them, but bit by bit I shall be adding to the collection!

 

So go shopping!!! NOW!!!

 

THE ORPHAN’S ARMSLOVE!

www.theorphansarms.com

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Filed under Culture, Europe, Fashion, Happiness, Love, NEW!, Society, UK

It’s no longer chicken soup for the soul ladies and gents…


It’s raspberry cheesecake and chilli chocolate muffins.

Not to out do Martha Stewart… after a day of boredom… i decided to bake… bake… and bake. Not great when you’re on a “diet”… I need to lose boob and tummy weight… even though everyone says I don’t need to (especially the boob section) but I suppose I just made that a but harder… in any case… I got a message from a friend a few days ago… asking how I was and if I wanted to meet up (in Toulouse) next week… But to be honest, I don’t know if I should. I mean, (and I am still confused about this part) after I left Stockholm, I got back to uni… and everything had changed. My guy friends just… “dropped” me. Why? I have… no idea… this guy (who I really liked… as a friend… and may I say… he tried to sleep with me a fair few times… not that THAT was going to happen) just decided… he didn’t want to be friends anymore… well to be more correct when after 3 months I still hadn’t gone for a drink with him, I asked him straight out why we had not seen each other… and he said “I don’t have the same desire to see as I did before”. Now, to be brutal… I was floored. We had never been uber close… but close enough to know each other pretty well…

So what did I do?

I got up, and made myself some new friends! Partied like a crazy person, worked hard and got over it.

So… why do I suddenly get this… request to “meet up for a drink it’s been ages”…? I have no idea… argh. Even I can’t try and psychoanalyse this shit. So I am going to have a slice of cheesecake, and a giant glass of wine… or diet coke… whatever I can get my hands on first.

If you want the recipes… here we go (at least something positive can come out of it) :

Baked Raspberry Cheesecake 

Ingredients

  • 8 digestive biscuits
  • 50g butter , melted
  • 600g cream cheese
  • 2 tbsp plain flour
  • 175g caster sugar
  • Vanilla extract
  • 2 eggs, plus 1 yolk
  • 142ml pot soured cream
  • 300g raspberries 
  • icing sugar

Method

  1. Heat the oven to 180C/fan 160C/gas 4. Crush 8 digestive biscuits in a food processor (or put in a plastic bag and bash with a rolling pin). Mix with 50g melted butter. Press into a 20cm springform tin and bake for 5 minutes, then cool.
  2. Beat 600g cream cheese with 2 tbsp flour, 175g caster sugar, a few drops of vanilla extract, 2 eggs, 1 yolk and a 142ml pot of soured cream until light and fluffy. Stir in 150g raspberries and pour into the tin. Bake for 40 minutes and then check, it should be set but slightly wobbly in the centre. Leave in the tin to cool.
  3. Using the remaining 150g raspberries, keep a few for the top and put the rest in a pan with 1 tbsp icing sugar. Heat until juicy and then squash with a fork. Push through a sieve. Serve the cheesecake with the raspberry sauce and raspberries.

Dark Chocolate and Chilli Cupcakes

Ingredients

  • Chocolate cupcakes :
  • 175g (6 oz) unsalted butter, softened
  • 140g (5 oz) light muscovado sugar
  • 2 large eggs, beaten
  • 2 tablespoons golden syrup
  • 225g (8 oz) self-raising flour
  • 115g (4 oz) dark chocolate, melted
  • 1 or 2 red chillies, deseeded and very finely chopped
  • Chocolate frosting :
  • 175g (6 oz) dark chocolate (above 70% cocoa solids)
  • 2 tablespoons dark muscovado sugar
  • 150ml soured cream
  • To decorate :
  • Red and green coloured marzipan
  • Red sugar sprinkles

Method

1. Preheat the oven to 180ºC/350ºF/gas mark 4. Line a 12-cup muffin tray with paper cases.
2. Beat the butter and sugar together until creamy. Gradually mix in the eggs and stir in the golden syrup, flour, melted chocolate and chopped chillies.
3. Spoon into the paper cases and bake for 20 minutes or until just firm to the touch. Cool in the tin for 10 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. To make the chocolate icing: chop or break the chocolate into small pieces and melt in a bowl placed over a pan of steaming water, stirring until smooth. Remove the bowl to the work surface and beat in the sugar until dissolved, followed by the sour cream.
5. Spread the frosting over the cupcakes and decorate with chillies, or hearts moulded from coloured marzipan or sugar paste icing. Scatter over red sugar sprinkles.

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Filed under Alcohol, Beginnings!, Cold, Desserts, Errrrrr wtf?, Europe, Food & Cooking, France, Friends, Games People Play, Goodbye, Hello?, Men vs. Women, Politics, Sadness, Society, Spicy!, Sweden

I spy with my little eye, something beginning with “C”… haven’t got it ? Okay… it’s a cheater !


Now, I am not one to comment on “gossip”, mainly because I like to think it’s beneath me (but who’s kidding, nothing is really beneath human nature). But, since I am a “woman of the world”, I shall comment on a “new fashion” shall I say?

“cheating”

I am lucky enough to come from a non divorced background, so I have (as some psychologists say) a good chance of recreating this same “mating pattern”, or at least be more optimistic about finding “true love” and what comes with that particular territory. In any case, my values have always been that you should not do to others what you wouldn’t do to yourself. In this case, I shall not fuck myself over, and thus not fuck others over. And so is my mantra. I am definitely not perfect (my bank account can credit to that statement), but in a lot of domaines, I have (sadly) sacrificed sometimes short “pleasures” (shall we say) for the greater good (or for my own self respect and/or better prospects) in the search for “something better”. Now… true, I will admit to never (yes NEVER) being in a LOOOOOOONG term relationship. No. Not me. Oh well. But, for my defence, I travel a bit too much, I’m very choosy and… I know that I’m worth more than just a “guy” to keep me entertained. Being very independent doesn’t always help either. I’m an only child (thus accustomed to my own company for long periods of time), and also fairly bright (I have been told?!)… and as a feminist, I know that a woman shouldn’t settle for any old “joe”. I have always said that you should do good, and not being religious (my defence being that religion has caused many more deaths (through history) than saved and that I don’t need God to live my life) I do (sort of) believe in “karma”… in that if you do good, you get good in your life (nothing is 100% obviously) and if you do bad, there is a sort of… balance…

Let’s get back on point.

I don’t want to give the example which influenced my desire to post on this topic (for the second time no doubt!) but cheating seems to be back with a vengeance. Many in the press say that the victim is “humiliated”. But I can’t help but say… really? It isn’t “him/her” that is… I would hold my head up high, yes I was cuckolded… but… I am not the one who did bad… so why should I run? I mean cry, sure, shout a bit, swear, scream… go for it, but no way would I feel humiliated or ashamed. For one thing, I’d probably go and get myself 2 or 3 bottles of whisky, a couple of bottles of diet coke and a game of Twister, invite some friends over, but on some Queen tracks and get drunk. I’d try and smile, I’d make a few fart jokes and watch some trashy TV. I think I’d also do some internet shopping (you know… ahem to… feel good…). All I can say, is the importance is actually to be the victim and not the cheater… because the victim always has their morals, and when you’re single, it’s better to have them that be on the dating scene where everyone knows you’re a cheater (who want’s to date someone who they know is going to cheat on them?).

So, to end I shall send a mini warning :

“If you cheat, be prepared to feel like shit”

Alright?

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Filed under Clichés, Europe, Hate!, Men vs. Women, Risk, Sadness, Society, Sorry, UK, USA

Men are like Russian Dolls…


It’s the summer, which means for me that I have far more time to write. I have sadly been pretty lazy on the writing front lately. But My “mode year resolution” will be to take more time to write (and read, I have like 10 Hemingway books to read at the moment). So, today is a very special day for French people, and if you don’t know why, I highly recommened using google (hello the french revolution anyone?), so instead of writing something very predictable… I have decided to write about men, and their many “layers”. Predictable? I think not! Plus I have the very latest mac, so I am very very happy.

I got the idea to write this post on the follow up movie (with the name “Les Poupées Russes”) after the “l’Auberge Espagnol” by Cédrix Klapisch (with Romain Duris). But I have decided to put my own twist on the title, men are like russian dolls… why? Well, just like in the movie “Shrek”, the main character when asked what ogre’s are like, compares himself to an onion… an ogre with many layers… but wouldn’t you say that russian dolls are a far better (and prettier) analogy? 

Well I do. But I hear you behind your computer complaining, “why aren’t women russian dolls? Don’t they have layers?”. The thing is, it is a common fact that the woman psyche is very complicated. I mean of course men are complicated as well, but as goes relationships and such, men are far for direct that women. Women have a (horrible) tendency to analyse every act, every word… everything. Whereas a man is far more simple (in general of course). I highly agree with the whole “He’s just not that into you theory”. I know that we can’t paint all men with the same brush, I know, but I think it is the common belief that men… even if they beat around the bush a bit, one day tell you, make a woman understand that they “like” them.

Everyone has layers, but I firmly men believe that mens layers are easier to understand if you try and uncomplicate your own. We all need a bit more simplicity… and honestly. I mean sure, the chase is great… but sometimes it would be great to just have someone tell you (email, text, tweet, call, sign language, smoke signs… etc.) that they like you, maybe take you out and hopefully bump uglies (at some point).

This year, I have personally taken a year out of the “drama”. I have not flirted, not dated done practically nothing with guys because I wanted to “trim the drama from my life” and also get to know me better and find out what I wanted first (also I had 2 jobs in 2 different museums, as well as in a Pub and all the while going to uni… so not that much time anyway). I soon realised that… if you peel away the drama, everything seems more… simple… I have had more courage to just “say things”, and understand guys better. I’ve also learnt not to listen to girls who gossip, but to just let them talk, because a gossiper… is usually talking a lot of crap.

So back to russian dolls. Imagine that each doll is a layer of various things, it could be a conversation you had with said guy, another layer could be a date, one could be a missed call… anything. Peel away all that, and just talk honestly. Don’t believe the hype about men being from mars, and women from venus. We all can communicate in one form or another, so stop playing games, just talk. But sometimes, the dating game is to peel away the layers… so don’t walk through the relationship without looking. Keep the game clean, don’t buy yourself a “How to date” dictionary, try and make your own. Each guy, each woman and each relationship is different… so peel away differently… and individually.

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Filed under Clichés, Europe, Games People Play, Hello?, Love, Men vs. Women, Politics, Russia, Society

Let’s All Say Goodbye…. to 2011


Time Flies When... ?

Time Flies When... ?

This year has been full of ups and downs. So… what happend?

I started the year in the wonderful city of Stockholm. I had just spent six months of pure bliss there (apart from the fact that my bank account was constantly bone dry, was really only a minor bump in the road to be honest). But, the year 2011 definitely started in style. January came and went, and it thus meant I had to leave the snowy north, and return to the chilly south of France to finish my History degree. February past, and I was taught that sometimes friends do nasty things, and that sometimes you need to cut people out of your life, because they are not worth the time you spent crying about them. So I said my second of my goodbyes in the beginning of 2011. Sadly it wouldn’t be the last. However, at university everything was great, good marks, and here came March. I met some new people and made new friends. Life was back on track. I was happy at home, at university and hurrah! I found a work experience placement in an art gallery. I even lost two kilos that month! We are now slowly creeping into April… nothing particularly interesting here. Between weekends with friends, and weekends back at home to see my family, life was as mundane and everyday as you could get. With May came exams… and big decisions… What am I going to do next year? Where am I going? And what the fuck am I going to do with my life? 

Well… now here is a certain “crise existentielle” (existential crisis)… but hey, I am far too busy with exams and the occasional (or not so occasional) knees up with friends, so I am not thinking about it. 

End of May. Results… Passed! Woo hoo ! Now… here starts my month of work experience. My first day I meet two girls who are also working at the gallery like me. We shall call them Jane Doe 1 and Jane Doe 2. I get along really great with both of them, and in particular Jane Doe 1. She is moving to Bordeaux next year to finish her history of Art degree. I decide to do a second degree and join her. That explains mostly why I am now living in Bordeaux. June in finished. July is here… and I pack up my apartment, and leave to join my parents. I go back and forth between Toulouse (where my friends are) and the pyrenees (where my parents are). The summer is hot, and I decide to get my first tattoo (which, don’t worry I had been planning for many a moon). July has finished… and like every summer, I am tan-less and freckle covered. 

August is here. I start work at a restaurant with a friend as waitresses. It is fun, but very tiring. I don’t see the month pass, and I am already moving again to another town. Goodbye Toulouse, Bordeaux here I come. I arrive in Bordeaux sans flat… so like any good natured hobo, I sleep on my friends’ couch for about 2 months. Around this time, I met some guy on the internet. He seems nice, I enjoy chatting with him… and then he suddenly decides we can’t talk anymore (I will admit… I still don’t understand what the frack happened there !). In any case, we are now in October, and I have a place to live end of the month! On the seventh of October, I get a call from my mother, who announces the death of a friend. I have not known many people that have died, but I feel heartbroken. I cry and cry. For some reason, I feel like moving around so much, changing towns, cities, countries and meeting new people, I end up saying more goodbyes than hellos. Jane Doe and I have been at our new university, and I have met some amazing new people, a few I know I will be friends with for a long time. I cannot forget the past, but I decide to continue, because this is one of life’s curve balls, and I know that I need to pick myself up again, and see all the greatness in the world. 

November is “move in” time. The apartment is far too big for my little old self, so I fill it with art. I have parties, we meet new people. I get a job interview for a pub. They like me and I’m hired. I also get a letter from the Musée d’Aquitaine in Bordeaux offering me a two month work experience placement! Joy indeed. December is here, I need to buy presents and I spend far too much money on my parents, but they have made so many sacrifices, that I just want to spoil them. December is nearly gone, and it’s the 25th. I turn 23. Then it’s the 31st. A friend and I order sushi and we see the new year in sober, but that’s exactly how I want it to be.

This year has been a real eye opener. 2011 was the year of “goodbyes”. 2012 I have decided will be the year of big decisions and “hellos”. I don’t want to say anymore “goodbyes”. So I have decided to live forever. Become a millionaire, and travel the world saying hello. I will never say anymore “goodbyes,” and just say  “see you laters”. I don’t want to make any new year resolutions, because I know I won’t stick to any of them, but I also know that you can’t predict what is going to happen next, so why try and pretend we are prepared for what is going to happen, and just continue biting our nails, smoking cigarettes, sleeping around, gaining weight etc. Let’s just live life, try our best and stay true to ourselves. Yes it’s corny. Yes you’ve heard this a million time. But we all know that the same shit always happens again and again, so let’s be mentally prepared this year.

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Filed under Beginnings!, Christmas, Family, France, Friends, Goodbye, Happiness, Hello?, Sadness, Sweden, Uncertainty