Although I lived in this city for 6 months--just a year-and-a-half ago, I feel completely out of my league. For the month of October I am living in the upper 10th arrondissement, which has a completely different taste and feel than my last apartment in the 5th. It is loud, dirty, grungy and very racially diverse. On the upside, it is by the Canal St. Martin, which is great to run along. There is also a great side street filled with lively restaurants.
However, we have some issues with the owner--she likes to drop by and leave us lovely notes about how we should keep the place more clean and move our clothes into the closet. Side note, ALL of her clothes are still in the closet, and there is only one bedroom, so I've been living in the living room. Thus, my clothes are stacked on a small table and I've been living out of my suitcase. So my closet is whatever I can hang my clothes on; the fireplace, chairs, etc. She dubs this "messy" and wants me to put them away. Where? That is a good question. We are two girls with a year's supply of stuff. It is not just going to magically disappear. She also left all her food in the fridge and it's starting to smell rather funky.
Needless to say we are itching to get out into our own place, even though we paid her for the month of October. I also think she forgot that we paid her to stay here...oh well, minor detail. That is another large bump in my Parisian road. We cannot find an apartment. As the days slip by we become a little more stressed and have upped our budget, so we will see how that goes. We may be homeless in November, no big deal.
On a more positive note, the family who I work for is wonderful. They live in Bougival, a suburb of Paris an hour commute away. Their house is cozy and I feel so at home. They helped me get a bank account (which took an hour and was all in French, quite an experience), and opened their fridge to me as well as their family. I met both sets of grandparents, whose english is not that great, so we speak in french. Both grandfathers are named Jean Pierre; so hysterically french. The two boys, Hector and Alexis, are 4 and 7. They are absolutely beautiful:
Hector:
Alexis:
The most difficult thing of this experience (minus Viviana, the owner) has been the alone time. After some extremely difficult goodbyes my emotional state has been less than balanced, and spending a lot of time alone has not been the best anecdote. When I studied abroad, I was surrounded by kids in the same boat, many from my own school. I went to university everyday and everything was taken care of.
Apparently this is what real life is like, fighting forward on your own. I know everything will smooth over, and in a few months I will have forgotten all these tribulations. At least that is what I keep telling myself, and what everyone keeps reminding me. As for now, it's just a bit difficult to keep a smile on my face.
Though I am in Paris (I must sound so spoiled) my heart is still lingering in Los Angeles. Once we (Ari and I) move into our own place; I have a bed, and we are in a more familiar area, I know things will settle down. I start my french class next week--woo people my age!!! And a few of my Texan relatives will be in Paris for a day or two. I will try not to cry when I see a familiar face.
All for now. It's raining in Paris and I forgot my umbrella...alors, j'ai le blues.
French phrase of the day:
Je m'en fiche (informal)--I don't care.
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