So my third real day in France and every day things are getting easier. For realz. My goal is to one day write what has been going on in this house with Virgule the cat, the world’s best 14 year old and a meal that would make women far stronger than I weep fat tears.
Today there is a hug bazarre in my neighborhood and my host sister thought I’d be fine manning the table myself for a while. While nothing catastrophic happened I found myself inexpicably apologizing to anyone who LOOKED like they were about to fire off some speedy french in my direction.
Further proof that only the cool kids go to France.
Later, wandering the tables that sold everything from VHS tapes of Scooby-Doo to horses, I came across a Fake Book (in English) which I haggled from 10 euros down to 7 IN FRENCH. Walking away with my prize I had one of those moments where I realized what I am doing is not crazy and the lines of what I can and cannot do got that much blurrier.
I also bought a 123 year old book (unbeknownst to me) for 1 euro. Fuck yeah? Fuck yeah.
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