Don't worry; they have a very lovely life.

So yesterday I was observed at work (before being paid... tell me how that makes sense), I taught They Might Be Giants' days of the week song to a class of children who can pronounce the days now (but nothing else), and I went to my nanny job until about 6. It was a long day. When I came home, my apartment was freezing, and I was so cold and exhausted that all I wanted to do was sit in front of my heater wearing yoga pants and eating Muesli out of a box. It felt pathetic and really enjoyable at the same time. Sometimes that's what living alone is all about.

However, I had made plans with a friend of mine who, after a day of teaching and then her own nanny job (we both take care of cranky little kids), was equally exhausted. We had planned to go to a concert at this bar we like near Bastille that is in a basement and kind of resembles a speakeasy, but we missed it because she got off work late, and so decided to spend our evening wearing plaid shirts and sitting in our place near her apartment, being cozy instead of pretty. It's this old brasserie way outside of the center of Paris, and it takes me a long time to get there on the metro, but sitting in a crinkly maroon booth with friendly conversation and a glass of cider, surrounded by car racing paraphernalia and the place's middle-aged clientele and the owner's puppies was the going out equivalent of Muesli and sitting in front of my heater. I can't think of a better way to end a long day in Paris.

When I got back to my apartment, I checked my bank balance for what felt like the hundredth time since I was told I'd been paid (on Wednesday), and they weren't lying, it turns out: I have officially been paid. I have euros in my French bank account. How weird to say that. And I feel so much more secure knowing I have money to spend, even if it is just on rent and groceries and occasionally going out.

Today I'm going to be sequestered in my apartment with grad school applications, and sometimes living in Paris on a tight budget can be hard, but my evening out reminded me of an episode of Sex and the City about living alone. I like Sex and the City. Anyway, so in this episode, an animal shelter opens up next to Carrie's apartment and she's woken up by a rooster crowing early in the morning. After attempting to coexist with the rooster, she talks to one of animal shelter employees, and they take the rooster inside. When Carrie says they don't have to do that, the woman replies, "Don't worry; they have a very lovely life."

This same phrase is then applied to the characters in the show, who all live alone, but, as evidenced by a rooftop party they have with transvestites in the Meatpacking District later on in the episode, do have a very lovely life.

Sex and the City may seem like a silly point of reference, but one of the things that I think the show does really well is to show what it's like to live in a big, glamorous, amazing city by yourself. It's a show about single women, and it's also about being lonely and not having everything you want even when you live in one of the coolest places in the world, and even though there's often a touch of melancholy to its descriptions of being a single woman in a big city, the entire series could be summed up in that phrase alone.

And even though my friends and I don't have a lot and we all live by ourselves in Paris, after coming home last night on the metro, I think the same can be said for us.

Seattle-Reykjavik-Paris (Marais, 4m Arrondissement)

I got into Paris Sunday afternoon, and I'm now staying in a hostel in the Marais in a converted mansion that is really, really old. We have a courtyard and free breakfast, but no wi-fi, so I've had to venture out to find it, and I'm writing this post from a wi-fi hotspot in Place des Vosges. I feel a bit conspicuous with my laptop out, but what can you do?

Paris is way more touristy than I remember. I guess it's because the last time I was here, I stayed in the 17th arrondissement, which is a pretty French one, not close to any big attractions (unless you count Montmartre, but even that is pretty far away) and it's a good place to speak French and explore little boulangeries and cafes and not see other foreigners for days. The Marais is different. I hear English everywhere I go, and I can hardly get down Rue de Rivoli with having to stop at least once so I'm not in someone's picture. Granted, I'm not an expert on Paris, but I've been here so many times that sometimes it already feels like home. Other times I feel kind of like Carrie Bradshaw in the last episode of Sex and the City - lost, confused, on my own, which, obviously, I am, although I met some girls from Calgary at the hostel who are doing the same program as me, but in Poitiers.

I have my stage (orientation) on Thursday in Essonne, the region where the town I'm teaching in is located. I'll take the metro to the RER and see how confusing it is. Today I'm searching for a place to live - this morning I made about ten phone calls to people who'd posted on pap.fr (basically French craigslist) who all said their apartments were "deja loye." Comment dit-on "homeless"? The hostel's okay for now, but I'm hoping something more permanent will work out in the next few days. In the meantime, I'm trying to get a better sense of the Marais and to get in touch with other teachers on the program.

Also, I start teaching soon. When did I become a teacher? On the plus side, when I first got to Senegal I threw up 7 times in one day, so, you know, bumming around with free baguettes and coffee in the morning isn't really a bad way to go.

On y va!