Very Clever

Hmm. You know I'm always going on about fields of kittens and such – well, today is turning into a field of landmines. I'm so busy trying to get ready for Paris tomorrow (for yes, dear reader, I am spending the Juletide festivities in the French capital) so I could really do without all the messy crap that seems to be coming my way today. There's murder in my heart today, so there is. I keep trying to remember the good things in life, and reminding myself that I'm so lucky (and I am, usually), but events seem to want to thwart my merry-tune whistling mode and send me burning to the curled edges of the map. I can't be bothered to explain, but there are at least five people in this city that I would cheerfully stab right now – and I don't even know one of them.

Right. Deep breaths. Bend ze knees, a-a-a-and, breath out. Very good. Oh no, that has just reminded me that there are six people I could stab. Well, seven if you count the person who has allowed their friend to park their car in my private parking space in the car park (which I pay for). It's so damned disappointing – I'm busy enough trying to do the normal things that people have to do at Christmas (especially if you're going away), without having to spend time calling the clamping company to get them to come over and immobilize some random delinquent driver. It's so discourteous to do this, just because someone doesn't want to pay on-street parking charges while they do their Christmas shopping. What am I supposed to do? I will now have to park on the streets myself, until they move - or park in one of my neighbours' spots and risk being clamped myself. Actually, I've a good mind to take a baseball bat to the offending car's windscreen. That's if I had a baseball bat, which I don't (hint, hint Santa).

I don't know what Santa is going to bring for me this Christmas - for years I've been asking for a pair of maracas and yet I have never received them. Quite what I would do with a pair of maracas I'm not sure, but they always sound so much fun when other people use them. There's no such thing as a 'Boxing Day Sale' in France, otherwise I might venture out on Friday and see if le boutique de la musique has a pair going cheap.

Well, thinking about maracas has cheered me up. Hurrah! The kittens are saved from being slaughtered after all. The next report will be from Gay Paree – hmm.