I got back from Munich yesterday, and I only get to stay in Paris until Sunday. Reality begins again on Tuesday, so this is probably going to be my last blog entry for a while. Try not to be too sad. Munich is exactly as I remembered it, except that some of my au pair friends have since left and the construction of the Pasing Bahnhof has advanced noticeably. It’s a city where people still wear lederhosen without irony, which is to say that things don’t evolve too quickly.

I got to see almost everyone I wanted to see, even if only briefly, and eat plenty of Krapfen, which was a priority because Fasching is coming up, and you know how Catholic I am. I forgot to buy a ticket for the S-Bahn the last day I was there and got away with it. In my defense, I was cold. Since the temperature is now so far below what anyone besides maybe certain marine mammals should reasonably have to tolerate, I’m being lenient with myself. All of my mental and physical energy is going towards keeping myself as warm as possible, which is why, for example, I didn’t give myself a hard time about staying in bed until eleven this morning and I have yet to brush my hair today.

I called the law firm where I had an interview last week like I was supposed to, to see if they had space for me this summer and…I have to call again tomorrow morning. I should be sending my resume to other places but—it’s cold. I’m having a hard enough time finding a place and the motivation to work on my novel. The new goal is to be done before I’m twenty five, and to that end I’m going to spend the rest of today in the library typing, but tomorrow maybe not, and this weekend almost definitely not. But that’s okay because I’ll be doing things I can write about later. And gossip about the next time I’m in New Jersey.

Maybe one day all my friends will live in the same city, which will be warm with a beach like Miami, but also clean like Munich, with pedestrians who wait for the green light to cross the road, and culturally like Paris, in that it would be perfectly acceptable to sit around for hours on end eating cheese and talking about nothing. Maybe that’s what it will be like when I’m dead (if I continue to behave myself), probably not before that. That’s okay. Now that I’m in a nice warm library, being alive is pretty nice too.    

I had an interview yesterday, kind of. I assumed it was an interview, and prepared accordingly—imagined answers to questions and bought cheap “pearl” earrings. But the secretary I talked with on Friday never used the word entretien, only rendez-vous, which I probably should have picked up on sooner. So basically, I didn’t have to answer any questions or say much of anything, I just had to listed to one of the partners tell me about the law firm and what they usually have interns do, and then a brief interlude about the U-Bahn in Cologne, while smiling and nodding attentively. I brought an updated French version of my resume (I had only sent the English version) which I hope was appreciated. And I think it was because I’m supposed to call next week when I get back from Germany to see if they have space for me over the summer. I really, really hope they do, if only so that I get a summer in Paris.

I’ve gotten myself really attached, almost to the point that I’m sad to leave for a week. That’s ridiculous though, because that week is going to be in Munich to see some of my favorite people, and I have a stack of books, baby bell cheese, and clementines to bring with me on the train. I hope I don’t have to sit next to any Americans this time. Maybe if I’m really lucky there with be electricity in the outlets.

It’ll also be nice to sleep in the same place every night for a whole week, because this whole SDF thing is getting kind of old. This morning I changed my clothes in a laundry mat. I’ve gotten skilled at modestly changing my clothes in public, and then putting my pocket mirror on top of a mailbox so that I can put on my makeup and then brushing my teeth in a public bathroom. Even though I know they’re an evil corporation, I find myself going to McDonald’s a lot because for the price of a coffee I don’t especially want, I have a place to be warm and stationary and charge my phone for as long as I want.

Okay, I’m afraid I’m upsetting my parents. I’m not trying to complain, rather to say that je me debrouille, and I at least have a warm place to sleep every night, which I am super grateful for. When I get back from Germany I’m going to have to make a decision about what to do with all the clothes I have at Ader’s. It’s all, or mostly, clothes that I like, but it would be way too expensive to ship them anywhere, so I’m probably going to have to give them away. I guess there are worse things I could do than give clothes to a charity, but it still makes me sad that there soon won’t be any traces of me in the Montrouge apartment.