Last week we called a man who had a free flat in the 13th arrondissement and made an appointment for Thursday afternoon. It was I who was supposed to go since S had to work and she told me that if the place was even almost livable I should get it right away. We had to hurry because if we hadn't found a flat by the end of July we'd have to go back home. We were really pessimistic since we had been looking for a flat since end of May and there had always been something between us and the appartments. So I went there already preparing myself to meet my family and old friends in the far away country of mine but the place was very, very nice and apparently there was no one else really interested in it so the same afternoon we started to fill in the papers.
It's on a beautiful and calm street with lots of little cafés and brasseries. We have a boulangerie and grocery store right next to us. And the place itself, it's beautiful, very spacy for being just 880e/month. There is a little bedroom, a sunlit kitchen with a skylight window, a spacy livingroom and a neat bathroom. I'm really excited about it, we're going to make it very pretty. S still hasn't seen it but I'm sure she'll like it as much as I do.
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Last Friday we went out and met a very nice libanese guy who was very fond of S. He invited the both of us at his place that was right next to the bar we were in. He had an amazing balcon on the roof of the 7 floor building and you could see far, far away under the stars. The sky was dark blue and yellowish from all the light pollution but the view was breathtaking. I could see Panthéon, Tour Montparnasse and all the little buildings far away. I felt so good up there, sitting on top of the world, smoking weed, listening to David Bowie's Low and talking about pretty much everything. I felt like flying. When S and the guy started to get a little bit closer and closer and closer I decided it was time I left and let them do what ever they felt like doing. Anyway, it was a magical place.
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Sometimes I get a little homesick, which is strange since I don't really have a home. I lived in the countryside till I was 18 years old and my parents got divorced. After that we moved to the nearest city where I lived for 3 months before I came to Paris, so it never felt like home. The homesickness I get is in fact just longing to the countryside. All the cold winters in the middle of snow and depression, all the beautiful springs with wind and sunshine and moods going up up up, all the warm summers bicycling to the nearest bus stop so I could get in to the city and drink with my friends, and finally, all the lovely, colourful, darkening autumns with moods going down down down.
But Paris is still better than being stuck in the country, the nearest bus stop 7km away and hardly anyone the same age as you.
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Last Sunday, for the first time in my life, I went to Musée de Louvre. I'm a little bit ashamed since I have been living here for almost a year now and I never went there. I wanted to see the egyptian section since I have been interested in ancient Egypt since I was 11 years old and it was amazing how good I felt there, surrounded by the pictures and statues that I had only seen in books before. It really was like going home, suddenly remembering all the dynasties and pfaraohs and gods and inventions. I used to be so into all that stuff I could spend hours and hours just reading my gigantic book about ancient Egypt, studying the book of the dead, learning about the agriculture and hunting, copying hieroglyphs and learning every god and his/hers specialities by heart. When I came out from the museum I was happier than in a long time; I had a job, I had an appartement, I had friends and I had seen the egyptian section of the Louvre!
It's going to be fine.
I'm almost sure about that.
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