Chez Margot

We moved into Margot's place a couple days ago. Our landlord has been breathing down our necks, he can't accept that we just aren't going to pay him before we find a new place. We had to call the police on him because of his constant harassment; he actually came over and pretended he was the police, so that we'd open the door to him... yeah.

We've been looking for a new place fervently, desperately even, but with no success. Without solid connections or a butt-load of money, a young married couple can't live in Paris. Trust me.

So, we've been trying to make the best of things and keep on looking. I went to a foyer for young students in the latin quarter yesterday and nearly wept. It was a gorgeous area right next to Chapelle du Val de Grâce: its the kind of place you dream of when you think of Paris. The rues were cobble stoned, the boutiques were unique, the boulangeries were fragrant, the parks were lined with benches and fountains were abundant. The lady at the front desk of the foyer was so kind, too. It just made it all hurt a little more that the foyer was completely full. At least my resolve to find a way was once again strengthened by the city herself. So many times on this trip I've been down and discouraged, and then the city breathes life into me. I have to stay here.
There is this tucked away street in the ninth just down the hill from le Moulin Rouge that is all guitar shops. Today, Margot and I's goal was that street. We went to the APC outlet we discovered on rue del Sarte, a record store, and then a bunch of guitar shops. Those guys are living the life. We had little success finding an afordable amp, but we had fun. We winded down the the evening at a corner café as it began to rain. Not bad for being homeless.