And Now Dad

This morning, Dad arrived back in the country. That means we're all finally back home! Next up is Mum and Dad's move to Lymington.

And I, of course, have to mention the Saints victory today, which means that we're going back to the Premier League where we rightly belong!

Paris Strikes Back

Once again, Paris was kind enough to grace me with its presence.

I heard that my favourite underground comic artist was having a show in Paris, so of course I book a ticket as soon as I found out. I not only got to meet him at the show, he invited me to the after party as well with all these Paris artists. So there I was, hanging out and drinking with my favourite artist in a punk rock Parisian cafe. It was one of those nights you live for.

At one point I was walking just after sunset. The sky was in the phase where it was a gradient from indigo to light blue with the stars just starting to sparkle. All this was backdropped against the baroque Paris skyline and I just thought "God must live here." That is the only solution I can think of for how perfect that city is.

Everyone is polite. Everyone is well spoken (I can't speak French, but you can tell). Everyone is stylish and good looking. Everywhere is clean. All the buildings are beautiful. All the food and drink is flawless. You can hear people describe all these things, but when you see them and realise it's all real, it's heartbreaking in its perfection.

At one point when I was having breakfast, two incomprehensively attractive girls were chatting on the table next to mine. At one point one of them said "Oo la la". I almost threw down my croissant and said

"Shut up. Just shut up. You had me at bonjour. You had me at bonjour..."

One Hundred Years

As you probably know, tonight marks 100 years since the Titanic struck an iceberg and sank. Ever since I was a boy, I've always been fascinated by the Titanic, so it means a lot to be back here for the anniversary. We're going to try and attend the memorial service tomorrow, but it's probably going to be busy.

I just watched 'A Night to Remember' for the first time, as everyone says it's more accurate than the James Cameron version. Upon viewing, I have to agree. The fact that it didn't have any silly sub-plots distracting you from what was going on, only seems to remind you that this isn't entertainment. That this really happened, all those people really died and those acts of bravery and heroism were real. You see things like the band playing on, fathers saying goodbye to their wives and children, women refusing to leave their side of their husbands, and gentlemen (back when that word carried weight) getting out their dinner jackets as they wanted to "go out in their best". These sorts of things are easy to mock now in our modern cynical generation, but if you look at it for what it is, you can't help but be moved by their utmost normality in the face of certain peril.

On a lighter note, the chef had the right idea when he drank the whole bottle of Johnnie Walker, as the alcohol in his blood would have helped keeping him alive in the frozen sea.

Home Stretch

Mum made it home safely and next friday our things arrive from Florida. Of course, becuase I've saved everything I've ever had, I probably don't have room in my flat for all my things, so it looks like I'll be putting half of it in storage.