Des Semelles Américains: cool like spidey

Now that I have an apartment in Paris with two cool roommates, I guess I am considered an official resident of the City of Lights. Set in the heart of the 9èm arrondissement, our three bedroom apartment is an old artist’s studio with awesome views of Sacre Coeur and la Place de Clichy. All in all, it’s sick. The six foot tall crouching Spider-Man statue at the top of the spiral staircase is just the icing on the cake.

Our Friend Spidey

Seeing the apartment for the first time really made this whole thing real, and kind of made me freak out even more. But with the reassurance that I am living with two of the nicest guys I have yet to meet on the program—and the bottle of Xanax in my Marc by Marc messenger—I was able to relax just a bit. I was able to put things into perspective, and realize just what is ahead: a whole lot of fun.

I spent yesterday studying the Paris metro map, and making the effort to take as many possible trains to various parts of the city. When trying to meet my parents for lunch on the Ile-de-la-Cité, I took a wrong turn and ended up in a dodgy suburb 15 minutes outside of the city—Fail. No worries, just a quick transfer and twenty minutes later and it was Bordeaux and beef bourguignon. All was good. I still have a few metro kinks to work out, but I am sure I will be a natural in no time.

If only I could learn to navigate the routes of my life here in Paris as easily, and as quickly, as the Paris public transportation system. Learning the nooks and crannies of a Parisian social life will undoubtedly take much longer. There is no place to purchase a guide with mapped out lines telling me where to go and which direction to choose. I must make those choices on my own. Much like my experience on the subway, I must get lost—I must make mistakes—in order to learn.

Before I was given the keys to my apartment, I knew I would spend a great deal of time stumbling before I truly felt settled in, but I was completely unprepared, and absolutely terrified. Now that I have a home, a place to go back to once I find my way out of the land of the lost, I am a bit less anxious. I feel much safer making the step into the unknown, the uncharted land. I mean Spider-Man does live in my apartment, and I am assuming that makes us friends, so I am considering myself one lucky guy.