Ruminations on a Futon and Shopping Under the Influence

It's officially cold in Paris, as of yesterday. The wool jackets are out, and the only place where it's warm is the Metro. Right now I'm at one of my coffee places in the Marais - the front of it is totally open, so everyone is huddled inside wearing coats and sitting at their laptops.

I saw apartment #2 yesterday in the 10th arrondissement - it was about the size of my dorm room last year, with a tiny kitchen that at least had hot plates, a fridge, and a small sink (some of them don't!) and a really big bathroom. It wasn't furnished though, and it's just a little out of my price range, and I don't really want to have to buy and deal with a futon at the moment. Plus, the guy who's renting it is a little more legit than many people in France who rent their apartments - he's taking dossiers from applicants, and then he'll pick a few to follow up with. I wouldn't mind living there, but at the same time...futon. C'est complique. Tomorrow I'm visiting an apartment in Antony, which isn't actually Paris, but it might be an okay place to crash for now - we'll see. It's a colocation with some other people, none of whom I think are incredibly old. And on Monday I have an au pair interview with a British woman who rents out a room in her apartment on the cheap in exchange for some baby-sitting. It seems a little intense, but I only work twelve hours at my job, so it might be a good option. Plus it's centrally located.

Also, people keep asking me for directions. Most of the time, if it's in the Marais and they're tourists, I can usually help them out, and they're usually pretty excited when they find out I speak English, but on Thursday when I was at an RER stop, totally lost on the way to my orientation, a French woman asked me for directions. While I was lost. This struck me as being particularly funny for that reason alone, and then I was a little concerned that Parisians get lost on the RER too. I mean, they live here. Like, all the time.

Anyway, the apartment search continues. And tonight I'm going to Nuit Blanche, which is basically a city-wide art exhibit and an excuse for everything to be open incredibly late, including department stores, who I think will do pretty well. I like shopping when it's daytime and my judgment is totally fine. Imagine how many impulse buys must occur when everyone's judgment has slid by 3 a.m., and that's not even factoring in that Nuit Blanche is basically an all night party. Drunk shopping strikes me as being a little like drunk knitting. Friends should not let friends do it.

I'm headed to a new area in Paris and I'm really going to miss the Marais. After living here for a week, I really do feel like it's my neighborhood. Underneath the touristy thing, it's really a cool neighborhood - it's the old Jewish quartier, currently Paris's gay neighborhood, and it's just a really interesting mix of people, including tourists and Parisians. I'm going to miss its little cafes and patisseries and being so close to Place des Vosges. It would be really nice to live here, and who knows - maybe a tiny little studio is around here just waiting for me.

Or maybe I'll move to the tiny apartment in the 10th, and I won't be too far away on the metro. The good thing about Paris is that with metro, you're never too far away from anything.