Le Debut

Somehow, in some way or another, I am now in Paris. I left a day later than I planned, forcing me to spend most of my birthday on planes and in airports, drinking and sobbing hysterically in the Houlihan's bar by myself. It's eerie to be back in this city for a few reasons. I've always liked lists, so here goes:

1. I am staying in the "Friends" hostel at the Barbes metro stop. For anyone familiar with Paris, this is not exactly the most romantic, timeless area of the city. In the first two hours, I saw three people get clapped with handcuffs on separate occasions. Even worse, the woman working there was one of my co-workers from (shudder) the Peace and Love hostel (see www.livejournal.com/users/adaminparis) who asked me how my summer in Oxford with the master-piano teacher went (note: this was a lie to tactfully quit my work at the Peace and Love hostel. I never thought I would ever hear it again). Oh, and we don't get pillows at the hostel.

2. The last time I was in this city, I had a girlfriend. I do not anymore. This leaves me to walk along the Seine alone as accordion music plays, see French romantic comedies by myself, buy two crepes and eat both of them, and sob alone at the bar in Houlihan's.

3. My once pristine French is now atrocious. When people in stores don't speak back to me in English, they laugh and ask me to repeat myself. Then they keep asking until I burst into tears.

4. The place where I was planning to practice piano charges 6.50 euros an hour. That means that a normal 3-hour practice session would cost me about 20 euros a day, i.e., the cost of a pretty nice apartment in Paris when it all adds up. I am searching for something else. And I will probably fail.

5. I have a date with a Macedonian girl tonight from the hostel. Macedonia is apparently a country, located somewhere, with its own language and culture. I guess there's nothing eerie about that, but I need to do some quick wikipedia-scanning on this alleged country.

In conclusion, I also have to find an apartment, get my carte de sejour (i.e., another lovely visa process that will require all sorts of forms, copies, registrations, urine samples, intense interrogations, mind games, etc.), and get a year-long metro pass (comparable to visa process).

I've actually already found an apartment and am ready to take it, just so I can get the hell out of the Friends hostel. It's more expensive than it should be, and it's not in the most exciting area of town, but at this point, I'd be fine with renting a tent next to the Seine, as long as it could zip up most of the way. Anyway, vive la France yet again!