Me: 2, France: 1.5
As anyone who’s ever tried to get anything done in France knows, you can’t really count on anything getting done until your third time through. I know that. I knew that yesterday. And I knew that today. So I’m not sure why I woke up this morning full of optimism about the possibility of mapping and Internetting outside my 180 square feet. I almost skipped to the Apple store, so excited was I to buy my shiny new 4S phone. And here’s what I learned today: a bank account is only the beginning. I also need a check printed with my name on it, which will probably take at least another week, potentially two to three, to get from my bank. C’est dommage, madame, come back next week. Oh France, you’re so predictable.
As a matter of fact, this exact turn of events was predicted with prophet-like vision by my French friend Mathieu, who I’m now considering hiring to guide me on all life decisions. (Mathieu, what should I wear tomorrow?)
But I found good coffee. (All of you who keep waxing poetic about delicious French coffee don’t know the truth: French coffee isn’t good.) In fact, I made a new friend (yes!) who gave me a full list of the best coffee places – all five. So I feel strong. I feel ahead in this game. I will persevere and survive – just like Gloria Gaynor! Bring it, Paris! I love you and I’m here to stay, phone or sans phone.