Life aboard the Kestrel

Hey there Pilgrims. I's me, Erin...Live from Paris where I no-longer seem to be dying of a dehydration induced fever. My landlord just left for Martinique with my six hundred euros in his pocket and he won't be back till mid-January. But I am not here to be a negatron! (well, not at least for mega-long)

 

We moved into our apartment  in the 10th Arrondisement,  last night. Its a 5th floor flat that we share with 6 other people. There are four Frenchmen, three girls and a boy, a Bulgarian and an Italian, both male. Last night was our first night here. Once we figured out how to make the IKEA bed work in ways no longer suited for a comedy routine, we slept soundly.

Our chamber has a balcony and those long planked-Parisian-parquet-floors people fight in line for. (Which explains the price) They've provided all the furniture but we're going to go today to try and get a coverlet that matches the curtains. The colors of the room are gold and white and natural wood brown so we were thinking gold, navy blue or brown would be best. But we'll see.

The last time I shared housing was in Toledo Ohio, I took a room for 100 dollars a month in an artist collective there. It was a beautiful building with a community concert hall, long dark wood passages and about 300 artists of every persuasion renting either studio space, sleeping quarters or both. I slept on a foam mat on the floor of my five by eight room. I painted the walls myself. My friend Zach said he liked the color I had chosen, that it was good for dreaming. I had a small fridge, a desk and I was finishing my first novel at the time. I took no pictures but posed in many.

I discovered Toledo because a friend of mine was living there in an old big windowed apartment, a lot like this a few blocks from the collective. She through the most amazing party of my life. There was drinking, singing, pretty lights and just this all around sense that I should be there. I woke up nude in a bed by a window. The silk soft of the curtains blew over the cream of my skin as a million church bells rang out in chorus. My band mate and I applied and then took up residency that fall.

We roamed abandoned buildings and made over night trips to Detroit, to see the artisan squats or shows at the 555. We went to the library at least once a week by foot and when I left I took many volumes of books that I never planned to return. For work and in between my band's weekly gig at a small jazz club, I built mountain dulcimers, parked cars, waited tables, sanded floors and worked an after school program to make ends meet.

Once in awhile someone of means would take us out to eat but I lived generally off of baloney, baby carrots, raw spinach and soy milk. Someone put free loafs of bread on the third floor and it was whole grain, too. It wasn't so hard. If all my plans fell through, it's the first place I'd go.

Sebastien and I haven't explored Paris much. Its different when you decide to live somewhere, you just sort of figure all the attractions will be there, should you want them. We are also reluctant to spend a lot of money until we secure work. I was planning also to join a gym but I'm not sure that will now be necessary with a five floor walk up and stairs all along the metro. If you think Georgetown is hard in heels, well it's got nothing on the calf, toe and thigh work I'm getting in now.

Well, I need a proper latte and we need to see which of these butchers to frequent, so off I go!

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