Thank god for that. I thought I was going completely mad because I've spent the entire week saying "comment?" and "quoi?" to people until they respond in English. But this morning I had breakfast in a nice restaurant next to the apartment where the waitress was French French and we chatted for about an hour without reverting to English - apart from for just some silly words like "jetlag" and "Guinness." So it's just that I can't get my head around the accent, clearly. I thought I was just stupid!

Mike's flatmate is cute. He looked really stunned as I walked out of the bedroom this morning. Had I been more confident in my pulling ability I would've tried to nob him as well (Mike left for work at 8am) but I decided on "un bol de café" instead. Still my tenses and genders are fucked up but people understand. It's so cool!

I think it would be incredibly useful to me to spend a huge amount of time in a Francophone country and not just keep grabbing the occasional week here and there. To do that would mean forgoing Dublin (although that was looking dubious anyway because work are trying to make work more attractive so I stay) but I could cope with that. Other than the fit boys and the cute accents, Dublin is just another English-speaking place. Thing is, would I actually get through an interview in somewhere like Paris? Perhaps I should visit French Tony for a while?

Last day. Boo hoo. Je retournerai a Angleterre bientot. Quelle dommage. And I know the accents are missing but there's no button on the Palm for "horizontal line above a letter like you used to do at school when you couldn't remember which way round they went."

Bought some boots (for £20 or something silly) and got noticeably cruised by the guy in one of the shops. Geoff pointed it out so it must've been quite obvious. He was quite lovely. Shame I leave tomorrow, really, although I could've probably managed another one if I was quick. Apparently it's because I've a softer face (a nice way of saying "fat," I fear) and blue eyes. It'd be a bonus if I was blond, apparently.

Geoff and I took the whole group (Geoff, Julie, Grr Fred, Stacey, Alan, Elaine) to L'Astral, a revolving restaurant which overlooks the city. The meal was absolutely storming and it was a wonderful end to a fantastic "vacation." The only let down I suppose was the pianist and that the Anglophones outnumbered the Francophones. Ah well. Geoff split the bill with me but it was still cheap. I'd have expected to pay another 50% more on top in the UK. The proof will be when it appears on my card statement.

After that we piled round - sans grown ups - to Julie's parents for entertainment. Drank loads more, smoked loads more (although I've now officially stopped again), and played dice. Consumed the remains of Monday's magherita mixture.