Dear Friends,

To paraphrase my mother’s counsel, it’s best not to worry; just believe that the best is yet to happen, and things will work out. Of course, I was a bit worried when day four rolled in and I was still at the Hotel Gare du Nord-Suede (as comfortable as the  beds may be); however, last night I decided to put worry aside, and concentrate on the task at hand– finding a residence in Paris before all my savings ran out.

My good friend Antonio (aka Tony) sent me a link to apartments that I really wish I had had earlier as it’s much better and cheaper than Craigslist: Within minutes, several great housing options were just a click away. I emailed six people, and just as quickly as it took to eat my nightly strawberry tartlet, responses were flooding in. Friends I went from impending homelessness to five possible options, and all under budget. If I were in a church, the pastor would say, “Can I get an Amen?!”

At 1:30pm, I went to see one of the apartments and fell insanely in love with not only the apartment and its size (uncharacteristically large for a Parisian apartment), but the non-touristy feel of the block, the apartment’s two minute walk from the Jourdain subway station, the abundance of eateries, the flowers everywhere, and the bakery on the corner. The landlord (hip guy) handed me the keys, and told me that the two-bedroom share would be with a Canadian girl who lives in NY; it seems like I’ll have to hit the streets (the corner bakery, and neighborhood bars) to practice speaking French. Pas de problème!

* My cool landlord Alex.

The French have a healthy respect for sweets and beauty, and since I can’t get enough of either of those things, I’m glad that they’re all in walking distance.

Bises xx,


p.s Should I send Barbara, of the claustrophobic stairwell in the Latin Quarter, a photo of what a normal stairwell looks like? Maybe that would be “ridiculous?”