I was doing really well, holding onto my sanity and the like, until last night when I totally cracked and started crying into my vodka and orange juice while we were having our apèro. It's not that I'm missing home or anything like that, it's just that FP and I haven't managed to get ourselves an apartment yet and let me tell you, French apartment owners (or landlords if we are going for the 'proper' term) hate foreigners. Even though I've used italics to convey the amount of hate they have for us, I don't feel that it demonstrates just how much they hate having foreigners renting out their property, so I shall repeat myself; French landlords HATE foreigners. There that's a little better.
I won't back up my statement with any evidence, because, frankly, the story is boring for outsiders and it also gets me very, very cross when I think about it and then I go off on a tangent, but take it as a solid hard fact. The gist of it is that there are hardly any apartments for rent in the Versailles area where we want to live (actually it's where we need to live, we're not just being choosy) and when we find one that we want they all have a problem with me.
This is no new saga by the way, this has been going on for a good few months now; searching and eventually finding one niceish apartment, getting attached to the photos, saying 'yes! this is our home!', sending the application away, and then being told 'nah feck off mate, don't want the likes of you here. Riff raff.' Meanwhile I've already mentally moved in, have even bought some pot pourrie maybe, and have made it all cosy. Then I have to mentally move out and begin the search again. Tiresome, people, very tiresome.
But wait, there's something else that's making things a little complex. We are living with Mr and Mrs FP.
- big house
- great food
- French 24/7 is necessity
- Quiet sex
- (just kidding about the above by the way)
So there I was lastnight, after having just poured myself a wee vodka and orange, sitting around the table looking at the plan of the apartment FP had just been to view. I wanted it desperatley; it's got a roof hasn't it?! But everyone else was quite sure we could find better. They said to me, "Oh attends un petit peu. On vas visiter Vendredi," (Oh wait a wee bit, we'll go view it on Friday) (should mention apologies if there are French mistakes, am parrot phrasing here.) I said, "But I don't need to visit it, if we wait again we will lose it like last time..." then everyone disagreed with me and then my body failed me. The tears escaped and I totally humiliated myself in front of Mr and Mrs FP. oh la honte.
I just want my own chez moi!!
I also want my cat who is stuck back in Scotland waiting for his mistress to find him a home in France. I miss my cat.
So it's nice to be here, it is, it's really great, but there are difficulties too. And if there is a french person reading who rents out apartments, please tell me why you hate me and would I have any better luck if I were taller and thinner?