Hello World

Tell all of your friends! There is an intelligent, hard-working soul in Canberra with two liberal arts degrees from a prestigious American university who is looking for a job! The restaurants won't even take me! Maybe this is the part of my life story where I learn that job hunting in any foreign country isn't a walk in the park....

Anyway, hello world! I'm back in the blogosphere. I thought about back-blogging, but truth be told, I don't have the energy. What has happened since December? I've settled in with Sam and it has been GREAT! There's no doubt that my unsuccessful job hunt has been hard on both of us but he has been better about it than I could ever imagine. The man hugs me on a daily basis and says things like "maybe tomorrow will be a better day." WOW! I still have every intention of moving out BUT I need to find a job first. Amen.

Australia reminds me of the States. A lot. Sorry Aussis, but it's true. The way you dress. The way you act. The way you eat. Yep, reminds me of the States. Of course there are notable differences, like driving on the left or calling a cooler an "eskie" (in NZ, it's called a "chilly bin!"). I tried to order take out from a restaurant one day and wasn't understood until I said "take away." Sigh. Regardless, Australia's grand but I often feel a tinge of longing for Paris; I don't think that feeling will ever go away.

Until I write to you again, take care internet! Much love, Mlle Zarrouati.

Paris Today

Paris is. It breathes. It shurgs. It lives. I'm glad I came. I'm ready. I think I'm ready. I want to see the southern hemisphere. To see New Zealand. Australia. The rest of the world. Paris will always have my heart. Feels like home. I was so sick of it when I left. And sad. Conflicted. I'm so calm now. Excited. I have good friends here. (yes this IS a shout out to MR and Jose and Mira) They will be missed. They're in my heart of hearts.

I'm ready to be with a man I truly care about. Ready for kangaroo steak and trying to understand Australian; I'm told Australians don't really speak English. I'm so ready to put my arms around my kiwi. Probably not going to be smooth sailing but I'm ready to give the country and our coupleship a good go.

On other news, I had chocolate fondue tonight. OMG!!!

Paris Tomorrow

I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow. Bittersweet arrival. I called my French bank today. I blocked the Parisian landlord from withdrawing funds. Pretty standard. I hope I get my security deposit back. The entire thing. I need it.

Sam and I talked finances this morning. He's feeling pinched. Money truly does make the world go 'round. I fear living with him for too long. Everyone suggests to get out as quickly as possible. I agree. It's probably best that way. Going from zero to sixty in seconds. I wonder how it will be to see him. Will he bring flowers? He threatened to bring flowers.

He asked if I'd be his girlfriend. I agreed. I'm a bit afraid to tell anyone. Especially Paris people. Silly me. I'm a bit afraid he doesn't mean it. What does a title change? Nothing much. Am I happy? Yeah. I was getting used to the single and ready to mingle idea though.

Freakout

Today was a major freakout day. There are 38 days until I leave for Australia and 9 days until I leave for Paris. I have no freaking idea what I'm doing. I'm beginning to think I'm crazy.

I could conceivably just stay in Paris. It couldn't be too hard. I would try to crash with people until I got on my feet. Healthcare is affordable and yeah, life would be goodish... except when I consider those student loans!!! Mofos. Anyway, so Paris really isn't a valid option at this point. So it's either stay in Washington or continue to Canberra. I vote Canberra.

Sure Sam could drop me like a stinky skunk - in which case I'd be penniless, homeless and thousands of miles away from any support network that might take me in - but I'm optimistic that he won't. Call me naive, but aside from not commiting thing, he's a good man. Sigh.

Visa in Hand

I applied for and received my Australian work and holiday visa in less than 12 hours! Compared to French migration, this seems like a cakewalk.