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Day 3

I’m feeling just the tiniest bit like myself today.  As far as eating I’m still a yogurt cup except with a tangerine head and prosciutto feet. I feel better walking around at night.  I walked to the Place de la Bastille.  On the way I found a bank, a laundromat, and the metro.

I’m really frustrated with myself.  Everytime I step outside I feel light-headed and a little dizzy.  I can’t tell if it’s because I’m still sick or if my nerves are just out of control.

Sebastien’s friend Ophelie said that I could come out with her and her friend’s Saturday night.  But she warned me that her English is really bad.

There are two places that I want to try to visit tomorrow.  Monday I’ll figure out the metro.

I’m still sick. It feels like I have an overweight koala bear hanging onto the left side of my head with his foot in my ear.

Bonsoir mes amis.

Day 2.

I didn’t wake up until mid-afternoon.  I had the best night of sleep that I’ve had in months.  I can’t remember the last time I slept so soundly.  The apartment is small but warm and comforting.

I found the grocery store in the Monoprix–definitely like it better than G20.  If you are what you eat (in 2 days) then I am a yogurt container with cheese arms.  I think the stove top won’t be fixed before I leave.

I did something nice for an elderly woman at the grocery store and she thanked me and called me Mademoiselle and then she said a bunch of other things that sounded nice that I’ll never know.

My ear is not better. I can hear my voice echo in my head.

At the grocery store I heard the song Rolling in the Deep.
I miss D.

Well.  This afternoon has gone by uneventfully.  I’m exhausted.  Trying to stay up long enough to adjust to the time change then I’m gonna crash.  The TV is great.  I had Singin in the Rain on at one point.  The TV is giant and it’s HD. Which is grrreat. Because TV is like sunshine to me.

I spent the afternoon on the futon skyping with US friends.  Very comforting.  I haven’t slept and I haven’t showered.  Until about a few minutes ago I was feeling overwhelmed by the experience of having to navigate all of this alone and fumbling very badly with the language.

Luisa very compassionately told me about her first experience in Florence and how she spent her first three days holed up in her apartment until something shifted and she made the decision to move forward and in essence be brave.  She said it was like rebelling against her self and that it was awesome.

So Luisa coaxed me into going to the grocery store.  I went down to find the Monoprix and buy something to eat.  When I got there I was very confused to only see ladies stockings and underthings.  I checked several times and it was the correct address and name but no groceries to be found.

I walked back to the apartment and found that the other grocery store Andre recommended, G20, was right across the street.  I went in and kind of grabbed anything that seemed remotely comforting.  I ended up with yogurt, ramen, brie, coppa, crackers, pelegrino, and a baguette.

It’s the simplest thing in the world but it was exhausting.  Not being able to understand or speak makes me feel intensely exposed.  Like, I didn’t want to stand in front of anything in the grocery store too long lest someone figure out that I wasn’t sure if what I was picking up was yogurt or goat cheese.

I made it back home with minimal damage and devoured a yogurt and grilled a baguette with brie and ham.  I’m totally satiated for now.  I feel better.  Going to hit the hay soon.

My friend Joseph is here for work.  He messaged me and said we could have dinner on Thursday.  That’s nice.  I think I’ll like that.

I’m finally in the apartment.  And remarkably after a couple of hours it is transformed.  It is small, but it is incredibly cozy.  And there’s a 32 inch TV with an American movie playing as I type this.   A horrible movie but in English nonetheless.  Comprehensible, comforting…anglais.  Andre made a list of cheap places for me to eat and landmarks to visit.  He told me the Monoprix close by is the best grocery store.  He didn’t ask me for the deposit he originally asked for.  But he was late checking me in and the stove top doesn’t work.  I hugged him when he left and that seem to throw him off guard.  Do the French not hug?  He said he’d come have lunch with me in one week if I was lonely.

So what to do next. I definitely have to go grocery shopping.  There’s nothing here.  I’m afraid that this apartment is cozy enough that I could probably stay curled up on this futon for 3 days if I had enough bread and cheese.  There’s even a coffee maker.  I don’t have to talk to anyone.

I’m in Paris.  First time for everything.  My plane touched down three hours ago.  I had a whole mess of time to kill before meeting my subletter.  I’m so tired.  I showed up at the apartment an hour early.  So I’m waiting at an internet cafe.  I have ten minutes before I can go back.  Supposedly the place will be transformed by then.  I’m skeptical.  Andre the subletter seems super nice and even walked me to the internet cafe.  But the apartment in its current state is not what I was expecting.   I’m trying to keep an open mind.  I’m on my fourth cafe au lait and I didn’t sleep on the plane. It’s very gray.  And no one seems to understand me.  It’ll get better.  I can definitely say ‘cafe au lait’.  How many days can one survive off of just coffee with milk.  I can’t get my mouth around ‘de rien‘.  And the way I say ‘merci‘ sounds ludicrous–couldn’t tell you why.  Oh and my car service got hit by a van on the way into the Marais.

Most disconcerting of all is that I can’t hear a THING out of my left ear because of my sinus infection.

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Well, Andre just showed up here at the cafe to tell me that the apartment is still not ready.  He said there is a problem with the water. And the plumber just showed up.  He said he needs another 20 minutes and that he’ll come and get me.  Methinks that whatever is broken is not going to be fixed in 20 minutes.

I’m alarmed by the exchange rate.  And how much everything costs.  My 2 cafe au laits so far have been 8 euros.  And I don’t really know how much I tipped her.  I think 2 euros. Did I just spend $13 dollars on coffee?

This cafe is really nice though.  And the wifi is free in theory.  There are little lamps with warm light.  It’s very fancy with chairs that look like they’re from Design Within Reach.  I mean I’m comfortable right now aside from being jittery, sleepy, and deaf in one ear.

I feel terribly American.  Though I’m hiding it well from the people I’ve encountered so far.  That is, aside from the string of livery cab drivers that shuffled me into one of their cars at the airport.  One of them approached me and asked if I needed a taxi.  I tried to explain that I was going to smoke a cigarette and I needed time to think about whether or not I was going to try taking the metro since I had over three hours before I had to meet Andre.  I don’t know any of those words in French.  So I ended up in one of his cabs.  The young driver he handed me off to asked if it was my first time in France (even though all I’d said was ‘bonjour!’) and offered me a piece of gum.  I said ‘yes…oui‘  and accepted the gum as I continued to wonder  how I got talked into a livery cab.  As I chewed, it occurred to me that I had seen the word chlorophyll on the gum package.  I had a moment of panic where I thought maybe this cab company was part of a human trafficking ring and that in a few moments I would start to lose consciousness.  I started to monitor myself for any feelings of being light-headed and gingerly continued chewing the gum.    When his phone rang I spit it out onto a cough drop wrapper.

Needless to say the driver was perfectly legit.  He even pointed out the Place de Bastille twice to me.  I’m an idiot and didn’t know what that was so I just said ‘wow’ and peered out the back window really hard.

I need to get into the apartment.  Settle in. Grocery shop. Then take Tylenol PM and go to sleep.  It has now been 40 minutes since Andre said it would be 20 minutes.  And my bladder just realized that I’ve had four coffees.