8.30.2013

where dreaming stops and reality begins.

Well, I'm here.
What had been an idea, a prospect, and a hope is now so real.
I'm living it!  I'm in Paris, living on my own.  I'm going to be here for the long(ish) haul.  I'm building towards a future that I can actually taste.  (ha)  I've done a lot of crazy things in my life, but I've never ever done this before.  Somehow, this feels different than all the other times.  This feels so, so right.  I know now, beyond the shadow of a doubt that I'm supposed to be here.

My plane landed on Tuesday, August 27th.  It went like most plane rides go: long & cramped & unbearable.  Once we finally got off the plane, the border control dude interrogated me about how long I would be staying and what I would be doing.  When I said "l'ecole pour la pâtisserie," his eyes lit up in surprise and he said, "la pâtisserie?"  I nodded, and his douchey looking friend in the same booth at the next window leaned over and said, "Ahhhhhh vous voulez faire des petits macarons?"  Smiling wryly, I said, "oui."  They both laughed as though they had just watched a puppy do a somersault.  "Bonne chance, alors, et. . . enchanté."  You know you're in France when Border Patrol hits on you.

When I got to baggage claim, it was mayhem.  I was picked up by the airport shuttle service that I had reserved.  A black van full of tourists pulled up, and a nice man in a skinny tie walked out and said my name.  He packed my belongings away, and the only seat available was up front.  I had to keep my jaw from hanging agape because I was just so happy to be back.   I tried to make small talk with skinny-tie-man, but he really wasn't having it.  I thought that after 2 years of not being able to use any sort of French, I would have lost it all, but it came back to me with relative ease.  I told him what I was doing, and I suppose that intrigued him enough to carry on with some conversation.  He asked me if I was living with people or if I knew anyone in town.  When I told him no, he seemed concerned. . . as though he had just watched a puppy do a somersault into a pit of fire.  I told him that I was going to be fine, and that I'd manage.  He said, "Well.  Consider me your first friend then." 

The French are a lot nicer than they're reputed to be.  I think he was actually being sincere. 

But then I met my landlady, and she's genuinely "French," as reputed.  There was kind of a mix-up about my rent payment and what form it was to be in, and then another issue with the fact that I didn't get rental insurance, which, I had never even heard of.  AND she expected me to already have a cell phone number set up.  AM I GOD, THAT I SHOULD HAVE EVERYTHING PERFECT ON THE DAY THAT I LAND, LADY!?  She sent me to get those errands done right away, which I guess was good, so that I didn't drag my feet, but also bad because I wasn't fully functioning without food or sleep.  I spent the day running around looking for an insurance company, a cell phone company, a place to exchange currency, a bank, and groceries.  I was spent at the end of the day.  It was probably the most fatigued that I had ever felt, but I got what I needed to done, and that's what matters.

I love my apartment.  I'm situated in the 5th arrondissement, right outside Notre Dame, near Quai Montebello.  I have so many things around me -- St. Germain, St. Michel, Place Monge, Hôtel de Ville, le Marais, les Halles, Luxembourg . . . it's unreal.  Life is unreal right now.  Last night I was laying in bed reading with my window open, and I could hear the soundtrack of Amélie blasting outside, and it was the perfect moment.  The morning before, I had woken up and gone to my window to say "Bonjour Paris."  It was an Audrey Hepburn moment.  I've finally gotten everything settled in and rearranged all the furniture to my liking.  Literally, I've rearranged everything.  Aside from some paintings I want to do, it feels like home. . . like I've been here for forever. :)

I start school on Tuesday, so I have three more days of getting over my jetlag.  I'm eager for that to happen already.  I haven't slept soundly in days, and I wish I could.  BUT I'M SO EXCITED TO BE HERE AND I CAN'T WAIT TO SHARE ALL MY ADVENTURES WITH YOU!  STAY TUNED FOR MORE UPDATES ;)


 Sunset.




 Sunrise

 I can always hear the city begin to wake up around 7 am.

 Le Panthéon



 Okay so I've found that feeding yourself when you live alone is a hard task.  Rarely do I have the motivation to actually cook something nice, because it's just me. . . so I need to be better about that.



 I made sautéed mushrooms with caramelized onions over a baby spinach salad with a poached egg on top.  Yup. All my favorite things in one dish = benefit of cooking for yourself.




 This was just a snack my first day.  My teeth still hurt from the surgery, so it was hard to eat this.

 I'm usually not crafty, but I made pinwheels and bunting for the apartment.  It adds a nice touch, I think :)













 I replaced an ugly print she had hanging with a map I brought from home.  :)




 This mirror was actually hanging in the bathroom.  I moved it.








 These were all already here, but I like them.

 To be painted.



















 Quite possibly the only downside to this apartment is these god-awful stairs.  There are 5 flights of them, and I get tired just looking at a photo of them.  I'm catching my breath every time I get to my door!  If you come visit me, you'll see. God forbid I ever forget something in the room one day while rushing out. . . UGH.








 My mailbox! :)
YAY MAIL!


 My intercom.  Doesn't mine look so professional?


From the outside it looks condemned.



 Cafes down the street.



 My window is in the beige-yellow building in the middle. . . the very top floor that's more of a square instead of a triangle.  You'll find me perched up there from time to time.


 There's a park right outside where I can be a creeper and peoplewatch.