Hurricane Katia's prisonnier

I'm booored. No, I'm just sort of flowing. I haven't written in a long time. Frist reason was that at work, week before end, happenesd the worst accident, my greatest nightmare, and not to me, I was just there, it was pure accident, awful, awful... I'll never go there again. It was so horrible I couldn't write.

Then school started, and in 10 days I'll be going to Italy. Busy, busy... And once more, my friend stood me up. Luckily the new exchange student from Croatia seems nice. So I'm not as depressed as last year. I mean she hasn't gone out with me, but at least she wanted, before it started raining...
And the Italy, I really yelled to my mother today, and the week before, and before, because I'm really stressed. It messes out everything! We have one holiday week, and it's the week after I come back, so no help. And my computer is shit as always, today I finally ordered a shitty new one, I hope my logic of waiting worse, result better is still on...

And final breaking point was when they reminded today, remember to take your ISIC cards with almoust a smily face at the end. FUCK OFF! You order us to go to museums, it sure is your job to get us discounts. Why the fuck couldn't they've told that like 2 weeks before?... Cunts. So, it's not even a big problem, I've never needed it, but for some reason I went completely crazy. Like my whole life broke down because I don't have international student card. Oh my god, wow!



Now I'm supposed to write a letter in French. I was listening to Jacques Dutroc's Les Playboys and wrote a letter in that sense, but now I have a hard time to sent it to my teacher... God I'm an idiot.

Yesterday we went, my and my sister, to watch Midnight in Paris. It almoust didn't happen, we had again a fight about sematics, entertaining for the bookstore audience. But I had waited it for 5 hours and she ovbiously wanted to see something so we went. Oh my wet knickers! I fell in love with the trailer but it tells you nothing of the movie. The movie was straight from my heart, (except the dating of Pari's Golden Age...). It was full of cliché, but so fucking what? And the whole theatre almost shared my view, it was brilliant, Adrian Brody is a vision!
Go see it if you love Paris, go see it if you just want to see something, go see it even if you hate Woody Allen, like I do, but like Vicky Christine Barcelona, which was also amaizing. Only thing bad about it was the once more american view and american accent, but luckily it was so full of surprises that I forgot it. And of course the Golden age is Belle Époque, thank you.



Now I'm listening Angel in the Night on repeat, thank you and good night, except pictures I have to add here...