The Beginning

When I arrived in Paris, my father’s friend Painton met me at the Gare de Nord train station. It was nice to arrive to a friendly face, though I’d never met him before and, like he described himself in an email, he looks a lot like Jack Nicholson. Though I was supposed to stay with a friend of his, that fell through and I stayed in a hotel for four nights. Though a bit expensive, it was a good motivation to find an apartment.

(At the first hotel, one of the guys at the front desk was hitting on me and said, in practically the same breath, "In France, we do four cheek kisses. In the US, do you have season four of Desperate Housewives yet?" I unfortunately had to tell him I had no idea and escape back to my room.)

I realized there was a small flaw to my plan about living in Paris for a few of months- I have never actually had to look for an apartment before. And now I was looking for one in a language I haven't spoken in six years. The first day I met up with my friend Alicia from summer stock last year. She's spending her junior year in Paris. We went to the American Church because everyday they put up postings of apartments or rooms to rent and employment opportunities. I took down some information but didn't really act on it.

That night I met up with Selena. We'd never met before but were put in touch with each other because we have a mutual friend that knew the both of us were, at least temporarily, moving to Paris. She's a clown and is studying circus arts for a year. We went to an awful art opening- so awful that no one was actually in the gallery, they all were standing in the street drinking and talking. Selena told me I should show up to the American Church much earlier in order to get something. Apparently by noon, everything is taken.

So the next day I got up early and called all the people on the new posts, as well as dozens from classifieds. A lot were already taken but I did get to see one apartment. It was okay but I wasn't chosen. I did get very nervous because there was an Australian guy complaining at the church about looking for an apartment for a month. Something I could not afford nor looked forward to.

After another sleepless, anxious night, Sunday was when it all turned around. I called a woman, Marie, who was absolutely batty but seemed to like me so I went with it. She has a loft above her studio space that she rents to students. She's very particular and ranted on about how Americans don't pick up the jam jar when it falls out of the fridge. When I met Marie she was wearing a flowing sea foam green mu mu and a coral scarf wrapped around her head. She had thick eyeliner on that was the exact same color as her dress. The room was blue- the beams had been painted blue, there were posters of blue paintings, the beds were blue. The floor was covered with dozens of circular straw mats, plants, and cardboard drawers (also blue) you'd find at Ikea. After ranting so long about how much she hates mess, I couldn't believe she had so much stuff. I would have to share this room with another student and sometimes Marie, when she was working too late and didn't want to drive back to her house in the suburbs. As crazy as she was- she did remake the other girl's bed while we were there because a little bit of the sheet was sticking out, I kind of liked her and the room.

However, I had also seen another room that was very, very tempting- and free. I had found it through my mother's friend's boyfriend's nephew's wife's mother's friend. Amazing! This friend, Mme. F, lives in a beautiful building next to the Pantheon, near the Sorbonne and the Luxembourg gardens, in the Latin quarter. The former mayor of Paris also lives in the building. Because it is such a nice place, naturally there are old maid's chambers. These are dozens of small rooms on the top two floors, that are accessed through a secret door. Mme. F has one of these rooms but doesn't have the right to rent it (lots of paperwork and French bureaucracy- yuck!) so if I stayed there, I would only have to pay for electricity. Which is basically free, when compared to the 600Euro I would have had to pay for the shared room. The room is probably about 10x10, has a mattress on the floor, a small sink and two burners, and a shower. And a window with an incredibly view.

I have to admit, I was torn. But just a little while. I didn't really want to live alone- I'd been warned by several people that Paris can be a very lonely city. While the one room apartment was in a great location, I was kind of intrigued by the bohemian loft with the crazy painter lady. Then I came to my senses and chose the free apartment.