Le 14eme

So I live in the 14th arrondissement of Paris. Yes I know it's not the Latin Quarter, but it's the closest I could get to my school without paying both arms and legs (I'm already paying an arm and a leg, but lets not get into that). It's a couple miles from school, which isn't too bad.

Living in Paris, I'm starting to realize that it's like any big city such as SF or NYC. There are homeless aplenty, the streets sometimes smell like pee, and it's confusing to navigate your way around. One thing for sure that makes this place livable is that it's a whole lot prettier to me. Old buildings that just exude character. Looking at my building, with the warped spiral staircases and old locks, I can't even imagine how many generations of people have lived here.

As a previous tenant described the apt, " It's small -- there's no
getting around that". Small is being gratuitous in my opinion. I think my office back in Mountain View was larger. Seriously. I even made a little video of the apartment.

Today is a day for errands. On my way to go get a pre-paid SIM card, I walked by a store and suddenly stopped. Green grass in the window, red detail and font on the awning. I had to run in. Pascal Beillevaire. What are the odds that I live three minutes walking from the best butter known to man.. and ten minutes walking from Pierre Herme. I feel like I've died and gone to fatty heaven.

For those of you who haven't had the chance to try this butter, it is awesome. They serve it at Le Jules Vernes located in the Eiffel Tower. It's slightly sweet flecked with sea salt. It's simply amazing. When I brought some back to the states, I told Mary, "This is why you are my best friend.. I will share this with NO ONE." And in her words, the butter was so good.. you didn't even need the bread.

Though the apartment is a bit pricey, I don't know if I'll be able to get myself to move. If I eat enough butter, I probably won't physically be able to.