Maza isn't helping me pack either. She just follows me around asking over and over again if I am sure that the apartment is close enough that she will have to not have to go in an airplane again like the last time we moved.
I needed to put our name on the new mailbox because it's already been forwarded, which I did ghetto style because I forgot to bring a sharpie, but mostly I just needed to get away from the cess pit that is our current apartment. There is still so much to do and it freaks me out and I end up watching trashy television shows I would have never been caught dead watching when I lived in the US instead of doing anything productive. I thought I could sort or organize, but there really isn't anything to do in our new place but enjoy the view and watch people from the balcony.
|Dog holding his own leash, waiting for his owner|
I still can't believe I get to live here. I could just slap myself.
Spring in Paris is kind of creepy because Parisians get all friendly when winter is over. I witnessed people smiling and being nice to strangers. An old man stopped me near my old apartment because someone had left a trolly cart that said "don't forget me" in French on it near the wine bottle recycle bin where there is always cool stuff people leave when they don't want it. He thought it was funny that someone had "forgot" it.
So I talked to him for about fifteen minutes and he didn't care if I understood him or not. I love people like this. It's usually only old people or children who don't mind if I have no idea what they are saying and just chatter on without stopping or correcting my french. My father in laws girlfriend is like this and it's so relaxing. She is probably annoying in real life, but to me it's refreshing.
When I got back I ran into the "gardienne" who is in charge of the building and has been the only friendly and familiar face I have known here. He is patient and kind and works hard for the rich assholes who can't be bothered to crush their own boxes and just pile them in La Poubelle for him to deal with. I asked him if we could have the nameplate on our mailbox for our new place and he said yes, and took me inside and opened the whole mailbox so he was sure I understood there was actually two and he would take them off and leave them there for us. When I told him me and David didn't hire movers he said if we needed any help lifting up heavy stuff to come and get him.
So that's another thing I will miss about this apartment. Monsieur Justin.