Spontaneity

I am extremely grateful for the friends that I've made here in Paris. My social life in general is more active than it's been than my days living in New York. I go to Friday night drinks with the expat gang most Fridays, I go to the jazz jam sessions on most Sunday evenings in between my week is filled with movie dates, dinners and dancing and I really enjoy it. However, most of those activities are usually planned and there's nothing wrong with that but I feel like my friendships here in Paris are missing a bit of spontaneity.

In NYC, I would call up my friends Dave or Robin and ask them if they'd like to join me for brunch and in an hour or two we'd be at our favorite brunch place in Manhattan taking in the scene, enjoying the food and each other's company. I mention all of this because I'm planning a brunch next Sunday which I'm certain will be a great time but it just got me thinking about how I used to do brunch in the past.

Big Sister Blabber Mouth Spilled The Beans

So my big sister whom will henceforth be referred to as Blabbermouth has spilled the beans to my Maternal Unit that I'm considering staying in Paris for an undetermined amount of time after my contract expires. The thing is, subconsciously I knew that by telling Blabbermouth the news would eventually make it way to the Maternal Unit because that's just how things work out in my family. Now that I think about it I told my sister because I wanted her to do my dirty work for me.

So, now that I have decided that I want to stay in Paris it's going to be an uphill battle trying to figure out a way to do so and to earn a living. Last month, I was actually offered a job as Project Manager for a small consulting firm here in Paris but I turned it down. I'm kind of kicking myself now for turning it down but I had my reasons and at the end of the day I'm sure it was the right decision for me at the time. One of the reasons why I turned the job down is because I'm currently focused on getting all of my ducks in a row to go back to school. Finding the self discipline to study and fill out applications.

So there you have it universe my intentions in writing for the world to read and to hold me accountable to.

On the Road to Recovery

After 3 days of not getting out of bed (except for a quick trip to the pharmacy) I am on the road to recovery no thanks to the crack cocaine that I was sold at the pharmacy on Sunday. Maybe I got a placebo or maybe my specific package was manufactured in some crazy factory in China.

French Pharmaceuticals

Oh and here's the other thing. Being sick in a foreign country sucks because even though France is renowned for its healthcare system if you can barely speak the language it makes it a little difficult to get the care you need. Oh and you never know if the pharmacists is selling you Tylenol or crack cocaine.

Lastly, before I fell ill I purchased some pretty daffodils from a cute florist. I suspect the flowers had more to do with my improved health than all the meds that I have taken.

Please note the lack of a proper vase *hint* *hint*

Priceless

Opening a bank account : 5 visits to 3 different to the bank
Finding an apartment : 6 weeks of searching
Obtaining a Carte de Sejour : 4 trips to the prefecture, 3.5 months
Social Security : 4 trips to 3 different offices, estimated 2 month wait
Getting internet, phone and TV service : 4 visits to the Phone House store, 3 weeks to install

Finally completing all administrative processes (for the time being ;): Priceless!!

You've Been in Paris too Long When...

You get utterly excited when you find out that the Paris metro will be open for one additional hour on Friday nights. Meaning that the last metro will be at 2:15AM instead of 1:15AM.

Oh did I mention that I'm a New Yorker that is used to a 24 hour public transportation system?

Happy to Be Earning Euros

It really says something about the state of the US economy when rap stars start flashing stacks of euros in their music videos.



Let's just say that I'm happy to be living in France right now earning some euros myself.

Poverty Agrees with Me

Apparently, poverty agrees with me. I say this because recently I sent a batch of pictures to my family and friends and the overwhelming response was that I look happy, healthy and like I am having the time of my life. And the truth be told, I am having the time of my life. I can't really explain why but for the first time ever I'm truly content and at peace with myself. For the first time my happiness is not coming from some external source such as an arbitrary measure of success, the amount of money I make or the purchase of a big, fancy, and expensive item or whether or not someone deems me worthy to be in a relationship with. Had I known in my 20s what I know I would have done this trans-Atlantic move eons ago as I would have saved myself from a lot of angst, frustration and overall discontent.

So without further ado I present you with my 5 steps to finding happiness (no guarantee this list will work for everyone but it's worth a try):

1. Quit your unsatisfying job
2. Take a 75% pay cut
3. Move away from your family and friends to a country where you barely speak the language.
4. Continually test the boundaries of your comfort zone
5. Live in the here and now and follow the mantra "no opportunity wasted"

Don't get me wrong folks, it hasn't been all roses and daffodils as evidenced here, here, here and here but the good is definitely outweighing the bad.

Things I Have Done In Paris...

...that I would never ever do in New York (mom you probably don't want to read this):

1. Jump the turnstyle at the metro station without paying (we've already discussed this one it's really no biggie since everyone in Paris does it)
2. Accept a ride home after a night of partying from complete stranger
3. Flirt with cute boys using my eyes
4. Invite a complete stranger to a party
5. Stop beside the car of random driver after being called over and have a discussion with him and his friends (just call me a chickenhead)

...and that's just a partial list of how I have been spending my days and nights in the city of Paris.

An Update I Guess

So as of right now it looks like I won't be a homeless vagabond in Paris for the duration of my contract. Good things are on the horizon and I just keep my fingers crossed that everything works out.

I've been a bad blogger as of late but if you've had to move 120lbs of luggage around Paris 5 times in the past 4 weeks blogging would probably be the last thing on your mind as well.

Before I say goodbye I want to send a huge shoutout to Islandgirl4ever2 who invited me to join and her fellow expats friends at lunch last Friday. She embodies the word sweetheart.

More to come soon dear readers and perhaps, maybe, possibly I will post a picture or two for you all.

Le Pity Party

I sat alone in a cafe today having a little pity party where I was the guest of honor. I'm down on myself because I haven't accomplish nearly as much as I would have liked to accomplish by now and I don't like the fact that I have accomplish everything on my own. In the past I've valued my independence and have worn it like a badge of honor but being here all alone makes me long for a little more dependence and someone to depend upon. What makes matters worse is that I can't easily reach out to my support system of family and friends back home like I used to.

During my pity party this grown man in a suit, riding a rented bike, caught my eye as he consulted a map of Paris.



And like that my pity party ended because scenes like the above are part of the reason why I'm here in France and are something that I'd rarely see if ever in NYC. I also realize that once I accomplish all of the things on my to do list (getting an apartment, opening a bank account, applying for my CDS, etc) I'll feel that much more happy that I was able to accomplish it all mostly on my own. Once that occurs I'll be happy to wear my independence badge once again.

Paris or Bust

I made it, I'm here in Paris and dear Google Blogger just because I'm connected to the internet in France that doesn't mean that I want to change my language preference on my page to French because I don't speak that language.

It kind of feels uneventful to finally be here in Paris and I'm really not sure what to do with myself. Over the next few weeks I have to make a bunch of decisions and I'm really not sure where to begin and I'm not confident enough to know that I'll make the right ones such as which bank to open and account with, should I get a prepaid sim card for my cellphone and most importantly where should I live. I know that everything will fall into place eventually but I just don't do well when I'm feeling unsettled and living out of 3 suitcases doesn't really help.

Veronica, a former assistant who I'm living with temporarily is really nice and helpful and it's comforting to know that she has done the assistantship in the past and to be able to pick her brain about things.

It's not cool that I would like to try to practice my French but my mouth just cannot seem to form the words. Sentences and phrases that I've said time and time again during my lessons with Marie and Claude I just cannot myself to say them for fear of sounding like an idiot. This is not some dress rehearsal but it's the real deal and I need a virtual kick in the butt or this experience isn't going to be anything like the one that I had envisioned in my mind.

Second Thoughts?

As I am entrenched in packing up my apartment and packing my clothes and belongings into two suitcases that weigh 50lbs of less each, I really beginning to have second thoughts about this move.

I'm not sure how I'm going to get all of this done by Friday. With a miracle perhaps.

Dear Mom, Blame Sassy

When I was a teenager I remember reading an article in Sassy magazine (yes I'm dating myself) about American expatriates and from what I can recall about the article the expatriates weren't living in the most glamorous of countries. However, Sassy magazine had this uncanny ability to pique my interest in a variety of topics on a monthly basis and even though I had no idea what the word meant at the time I was instantly intrigued by the concept of expatriating.

I couldn't tell you why the article resonated with me the way it but I guess it spoke to something deep seated in my subconsciousness or perhaps spoke to my search for belonging as weird as that may sound. Maybe it was fate that I read that article or maybe it was sheer coincidence but what I do know is that I'm absolutely thrilled that 17 years later (wow) I'm going to have the opportunity to fulfill my dream of expatriating.

My Spirit is Bruised But Not Shattered

I've been diligently scouring the internet to find a Parisian apartment of my very own or to share with 1-2 lovely other roommates. Unfortunately, I've come up empty so far. People have warned me that it is notoriously hard to find an apartment in Paris during September and I chose to not believe them.

At first I was naively optimistic thinking that a large apartment with a great view and patio would fall into my hands and would cost virtually pennies (in dollars). Then I turned cautiously optimistic when I realized that maybe such an apartment will fall into my hands but it will require some hard work, determination and the prospect of paying a pretty penny for it. However, I will still be able to afford other basic necessities such as food and entertainment (I'm pretty sure entertainment is not included in Maslow's hierarchy of needs but whatever). Fast forward to today and I'm feeling completely pessimistic and that my only option for shelter in Paris is to live in a closet with no windows in some shady part of town and to top it off I will be required to pay a caution which will be 6 times my monthly salary as an assistant.

In case you don't believe I've brought along a few illustrations to share.

Exhibit A - "Showering in My Kitchen with Plants;
Who Needs a Shower Curtain When Sticky Butterflies are Strategically Positioned to Cover My Lady Bits"

Exhibit B - Is This Not the Scariest Comforter That You Have Seen This Millennium?

After the past couple of days searching my spirit may be slightly wounded and bruised but it is by no means shattered. I still have time to find that perfect Parisian apartment that I envision in my dreams.