I've been laying in bed for the past half hour trying to fall asleep. Funnily enough, that's also what I was doing at this time yesterday - but because I'd just gotten home, not because a client called me way too early.

I think I'll work these past 24hrs backwards. Last night, I went to see the perfect apartment - a little more than 40m2 (huge for Paris), furnished, on the top floor of the building with a balcony and vue sur Paris for only 600€ per month. I figured there had to be a catch, and there was - it's about a ten-minute walk from the metro and is in a sort of dodgy neighborhood filled with all sorts of back alleys. The apartment itself is lovely - nice furniture, good color scheme, lots of light - but the building is in bad condition and looks like an HLM (which it very well may be, given the price). I just did not feel safe enough there, despite the great price.

Lots of people have been asking about the hôtel de ville place - I sent them another email yesterday and they replied back saying the girl is now thinking about staying. Either I was too convincing when I told her how hard it was to find a new place or she was too convincing when telling me what a great place it was. Either way, it sucks and my housing search continues.

Yesterday afternoon, I finally met the lovely Princesse Ecossaise and her dear Frog Prince. They came into Paris and we had an over-price drink at a café, walked through the Luxembourg gardens and then went to a movie ("Le premier jour du reste de ta vie" - I recommend it). It was so nice to finally meet them and I look forward to hanging out again soon. I promise to not be semi-hungover next time though!

Now on to why I was getting home at 7:30am. So. Saturday night, Kendra and I met up with Laura (ex-assistant and blogger) and her friends on another péniche. The soirée started off a bit boring - there weren't as many people there as last week, the food wasn't great and the drinks were hella pricey. But the company was good, which made up for a lot. Some of the girls left to catch the metro and the organiser was ribbing Kendra and I for having stayed in the same seat all night and not mingling, so we got up and started walking around. We ended up talking to these three boys - one French, the other two half-French, half-English. They were all really cool and we hung out with them for the rest of the night, dancing until the boat/boite closed at 6am. After that, we all walked back along the Seine and watched the sun rise over Paris - is there anything more beautiful? Going from place de la Concorde to St Michel by foot took quite a while but we still took the time to grab a last drink at a café at place St Michel before parting ways.

It was a great night, and it reminded me a lot of being in the US and hanging out with the guys, talking and laughing, and not feeling pressured in any way. We didn't get their numbers at all - it was one of those one-time things I think. Though now I'm sort of regretting not asking for the number of the Frenchie, he was cute and really nice and I could do with seeing him again. ;) Either way though, as I lay in bed that morning with daylight streaming through the window, I thought "If only Fab and his friends could see little old coincée me now - they'd never believe it!" It's nice to realize that I'm not really secretly a 50 year old woman like they accused me of being - it was just the company I was keeping.