Like when we were traveling in Latin America. Once I went back home, everybody asked me about the drugs over there: “come on, didn’t you see poppy fields in Bolivia? Cocaine in Peru? “. Nope. Didn’t see any drugs. The odd join smoked at the hostel, maybe. But certainly much less drugs than I had seen when I was in high school.

Has anyone ever bought something from a telemarketer? Enlighten me! If someone calls to ask if you need to replace your windows, what are the chances that are gonna go: “absolutely sir, that’s exactly what I was my wife and I were talking about over diner when you called! Tell me, which numbers do you need on my credit card?”

Do you know why I’m not a perfect woman? No, it’s not — only — because I like muffins (a lot). It’s a much deeper secret. Still don’t know?

Let me put in simply. I’m French. And I’m a lousy cook.

I swear that’s the last time I fill in for the receptionist. I’m a bloody French teacher. NOT a receptionist. And if the woman can’t even remember if she’s supposed to be in a group or a private class I really don’t think she will do that great as a student. And.. and I hate the phone.

See, to me, there are two kind of women: women who like shoes, and women who like bags. And since I wear size 9 shoes (40 for European readers) — but I must also say that I’m 1.75 meter ! — I rarely get the shoes I really want. So I became a bag person.