The Truth Will Out
2005-02-09 00:53:08 (UTC)

M Chevallier and the Sacre Coeur

We did the usual, and crammed and crammed until the last
minute. Dave came with me to the fac and waited with me
for M Chevallier.
Of course I was absolutely shitting myself. To be fair I
know fuck all about Admin law, and this guy writes books
and *influences* French Admin law. So I was just very
humble, tried my best - first question was 'how does
international law affect french admin (internal) law?'...
I was just like, 'er, yeah, there's like directives and
treaties and stuff and the written Constitution says that
the national law mustn't be in conflict with it... and
stuff...' I really hope I said enough to pass. He asked me
what my other marks were, and I said I thought I'd got a
moyen (just enough to pass), and that with the knowledge
I'd gained from this semester, I hoped to improve next
semester (assuming, of course, I pass these resits) which
seemed to please him.
He asked me about the Nicolo case (probably the most
important case in Admin law) and of course I didn't know
anything specific about it, so I did the whole 'well, I'm
not sure, and sorry if I'm wrong, but isn't it something
to do with the hierarchy of norms and stuff...' a French
student would have known a perfect quote parrot fashion,
the date, the court and what colour underpants the judge
was wearing.
He gave me the impression I'd passed, and said 'good luck
for next semester'... I had the feeling he was going to
look at the marks I've got already and give me just enough
to pass.
So now I've only got fondements, apparently there's one
other student resitting but I don't know who it is. What's
really annoying is that Gautier didn't even turn up to the
fondements exam but his marks were so good in the other
exams, his average is well above enough to pass.
So anyway, after being quite petrified all morning and
seriously thinking I'd be sent home to England, I was in
quite a good mood. I guess some sort of delirium had set
in because both Dave and I have had about 6 hours sleep in
the last two days. We decided, on the RER, that we felt
all 'ming body'... c'est a dire the exact opposite feeling
you have when you're all dressed up and ready to go out.
We were smelly, hair a little greasy, eyes a bit
bloodshot, talking random crap (ok I guess we do that
anyway)... so we went back to Dave's, and Dave had a bath
and a shave and cleaned his teeth and moisturised and did
whatever all image-conscious gay men obviously do. We
drank (randomly) about 5 or 6 bottles of beer each, and
decided in our wisdom and tipsy state that a visit to the
sacre coeur and monmartre was in order.
So we got the metro to Barbes-Rochasomething and walked up
the hill (out of breath, MAN I'm unfit), passed lots of
little haberdashery type shops on the way, made me think
of Mel.
When the sacre coeur came into view, I was stunned... I
thought I'd never been before but when I got there the
memories came flooding back, I'd been here on French
school trips with the most amazing woman on the planet,
Mrs Banks. We went on the little train, we went to
Pigalle... yes I HAD been here before.
We went into the sacre coeur and it was so quiet...
everyone was whispering... Dave made the sign of the cross
with holy water, but I didn't because I thought well I'd
only be doing it for show and it's so hypocritical, I'd
almost be taking the piss out of people's beliefs if I did
it so I didn't. We each bought a 2 euro candle thing, Dave
lit his for Matt, and I lit mine for Sam. Being in the
sacre coeur was so calming... to think the entire thing
was built because of a blind belief in 'God'. Looking up
at the carved angels and seeing the image of Jesus on the
cross with a golden heart shining felt so... spiritual.
It's so magnificent, it commands your respect no matter
what you believe. It reminded me of St. Kents, and my
childhood... and seeing all the people who were there
praying reminded me of the Taylor family.
We had a drink in a brasserie in Pigalle, after walking
round monmartre and getting a crepe. I realised I'd been
up faaaaaar too long and had to go to bed, so we went to
Monoprix and I bought some bubble bath and two
toothbrushes to have spare for when Dave or Sam stay over.
I got the metro from Blanche straight to Porte Dauphine.
When I got in (about 7pm?) I just got in bed and I've
basically slept until now.
Rob just called me, it's almost 1am UK time and he's been
to Leadmill and gotten a little drunk.
I guess that's it for today. I'm just going to totally
slob out tomorrow, I might srcub my carpet a bit because
it's still absolutely awful. In fact I might do a bit
Is an obsession with beautiful, clean, new, soft carpet
totally wrong?