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idiot-extraordinaire · 4 years ago

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We Could Happen

Summary:

AU. The last thing Santana Lopez expects when her best friend asks her to cat-sit is to find something with the blonde in apartment 1812.

Title after the AJ Rafael song.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13667414/1/We-Could-Happen https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812445

Santana Lopez is not what you would call a "pet person".

Her experience with pets involved a goldfish when she was five, who didn't last till the end of the month, a pregnant hamster that gave birth, ate it's young and promptly died a few days later when she was eight and the neighbour's pitbull, who had a habit of standing with it's head over the fence and barking loudly as it jumped up and down, terrifying her every time she walked home from the bus stop.

There was also her cousin's cat, who managed to scratch up her furniture the weekend she agreed to cat-sit and the parrot her ex-girlfriend had that flew out of its cage and pooped on her favorite leather jacket, so yeah.

Santana didn't hate animals, but she did prefer that she not be in close proximity with them for extended periods of time. She much preferred the pictures of puppies and kittens that circulated on Instagram than actually having to be near one. It was perfect, all cute and no responsibility.

Which is why she almost strangled Quinn when her best friend informed her she was going to be leaving her cat in Santana's care for the foreseeable future.

"What do you mean your cat is going to be staying with me?"

"I'm being seconded to our London office," Quinn informs her. "They said six months, but it could be up to a year. I can't take Charlie with me."

"Why can't you leave him with someone else?"

"Sam and Kurt's buildings don't allow pets."

"What about Mercedes?"

"Mercedes is going on tour in a few weeks, she can't bring him."

"Yes, she can. It'll be like part of her act."

"Santana…"

"Leave him with your mom, then!"

"Santana, I'm not flying to Lima to drop him off at my mom's, when you're perfectly capable of taking care of Charlie."

"Look Q," Santana retorted. "If I wanted to take care of a cat, I would buy a cat. But I don't want one, so Charlie will just have to find somewhere else to stay."

"Come on."

"What happens if I bring a girl over? I can't just have this cat getting all up in my business while I'm trying to get my mack on!"

"He's a cat, not a child!"

"I don't have the space."

"You live in a two bedroom apartment! You have a room for your shoes!"

"Okay, first of all, it's one and a half bedrooms!" That was true, the real-estate agent had advertised it that way, which was perfect for Santana since a "half bedroom" provided a perfect excuse to never have houseguests. "And second, it's full, so there's nowhere for him to stay."

"He doesn't need his own room," Quinn rolled her eyes. "Your place is more than big enough."

"What about someone from your office? How about Ken doll? Or what's-her-face with the ugly shoes? It won't matter if he pees in them," Santana rattles off names.

"Santana, please don't make this difficult," Quinn sighed as Santana crossed her arms over her chest, indignantly. "Don't make me call it in," she says, almost warningly.

Santana narrows her eyes. "You wouldn't."

What Quinn was referring to was the favor that Santana agreed to let her call in, one time only, no questions asked.

Over the years, Santana had gotten pretty good at letting one-night-stands know that that was exactly what it was , a one night stand. It saved a lot of confusion and hurt and awkward conversations in the morning, but once in a while, even the best could slip up.

It was a few months ago when the morning after, it became obvious that Santana's latest one-night-stand intended for their relationship to become...well, a relationship, and Santana informing her that it wasn't going to become one didn't work either.

It became painfully clear to Santana that she'd taken home a crazy person and she called Quinn, who was on her way to a big meeting. Santana had pleaded with her that it would only take five minutes and that she'd owe her huge so her friend complied.

Fifteen minutes later, Quinn showed up at Santana's apartment to play the scorned girlfriend. She went on, screaming and crying about how Santana could do this to her after they were together for five years, how awful she was for cheating (on their anniversary no less) and even threw in an "I should have listened to my mother about you!" for good measure.

She really sold it. Santana was convinced Quinn was going to slap her across the face, when she heard the front door click shut behind her and Quinn turn off the waterworks.

"There, she's gone. Now move, I need to touch up my makeup before I go to my meeting," Quinn replied nonchalantly, strolling past Santana and into the bathroom.

Quinn was only five minutes late to her meeting, but Santana had to keep her promise and officially owed Quinn one favour that she was allowed to call in at any time.

Apparently, this was it.

"You're calling in the favour over your cat?"

"Apparently, I have to," Quinn rolled her eyes and let out a sigh, before the corners of her mouth turned up in a smirk. "Which means that you really can't say no."

Santana really wanted to slap that stupid smirk off her best friend's face. But alas, a deal was a deal and she'd sealed her fate on that morning many months ago when she took home that crazy (though admittedly hot) girl who really took that U-haul stereotype to heart.

Live and learn, she figured.

And that was how Santana Lopez ended up as guardian to the calico, Charlie.

"I expect him to be in the same condition when I come back," Quinn warned her, on the day he was dropped off before his human departed for London.

"No promises, Q," Santana rolled her eyes.

"I'll call to check in."

"I'm an adult, I'll be fine without you."

"I meant on him."

"When did you turn into a crazy cat lady?" Santana cracked.

Quinn's little goodbye with her cat stretched out to twenty minutes, not including the two- hour-long orientation she gave Santana about vet appointments, shots, food, litter boxes, his pet carrier and everything in between.

When the front food shut, signalling Quinn's exit, Santana looked down at Charlie, who in turn just stared up at her and meowed.

"Ok listen, we need to get one thing clear, now that your crazy mom isn't here to save you," Santana dropped down so she was closer to eye-level with the cat. "I'll do all the vet appointments and the cat food and even emptying out your nasty-ass litter-box, but if you ever pee in one of my shoes, you are done here," she said in a low growl.

Charlie meowed again and licked his paw. Santana decided to take that as an understanding.

----------

Charlie is actually not bad. Santana won't go as far as to say she enjoys having him around, but she doesn't hate it.

He walked around the apartment like he owned the place and climbed up on the furniture, but all things considered he was pretty good. He went in his litter box and knew his feeding routine.

During the first week, Santana came home from work to find the legs of her coffee table totally scratched up. She brought out the eyesore that was his bright blue scratching post on full display in her living room so that he could use it instead, but Quinn informed her that Charlie was probably just getting antsy from being alone in the apartment all week.

Santana installed a kitty door so that he'd be free to roam about the apartment complex during the day and come home when he needed and leave her damn stuff alone. Since then, he seemed calmer when he was indoors and would take to lying on the couch next to her when she was watching TV.

So yeah. Santana figured having Charlie around wasn't the worst thing in the world.

She could, however, do without Quinn's constant need for updates on her cat. Based on her social media posts, Quinn was having the time of her life in London, meeting new people and going to new places.

However, based on her messages to Santana - it seemed less like she was a socially active woman in her twenties living it up, and more like she was a fifty year old cat-mom missing her cat-child, with nothing else to do.

[Quinn]: Did you feed him today?

[Quinn]: He likes the chicken flavour.

[Quinn]: Is he getting enough exercise?

[Quinn]: Can you send me pics of him?

[Quinn]: You're giving him baths regularly, right Satan?

[Quinn]: If anything seems wrong TAKE HIM TO THE VET

[Quinn]: How is he today?

Santana got so tired of the messages that eventually she started trolling Quinn so that the blonde would leave her alone.

[Santana]: Congrats, grandma! Charlie knocked up the neighbour's cat. You have nine of them to come home to!

[Santana]: Cats can drink scotch right? Cause I accidentally poured the wrong thing into his bowl.

[Santana]: Charlie's a persian right? Cause that's who's sitting on my couch rn.

-----------

Santana had settled into routine with her new roommate. It wasn't like she had to walk the cat or anything, so she made sure that there was food in his bowl before she left for work and he was usually home by the time she got back anyway.

In between she guessed that he was wandering the neighbourhood looking for mice or whatever it is that cats do. Whatever, he didn't touch her shoes and her furniture and frankly that was the best she could hope for.

Work on the other hand, left much to be desired.

Santana was the youngest person in management at one of the most promising new marketing and PR agencies in Los Angeles. She'd been there since interning in her senior year of college and knew the ins and outs of the business better than almost anyone. She was sharp, effective and knew how to get things done. It also meant that she spent too much time at the office.

You know what they say, if you need something done, give it to the busiest person at the office.

"Miss Lopez," her assistant, Marley, stepped into the door of her office. "The Mucusin people are here."

Mucusin was a new over-the-counter cold medicine soon to be released in stores. Santana had advised them to change the name, but they were pretty adamant about keeping it so it seemed like she was going to have her work cut out for her.

"Send them in."

-----------

So it turned out the Mucusin people were not only married to the name, but to the idea of keeping the packaging green.

Santana had to fight an eyeroll when she gave that directive to the design team to come up with a few samples incorporating that particular shade of green.

When she finally got home, she spotted Charlie, sitting on the arm of the couch, waiting for her and meowing expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll get your food," she grumbled, putting her things down, opening a can of Cat Chow and emptying it into his bowl.

Once she'd fulfilled her obligation, she ordered some food for herself on her phone and headed into the shower, wishing to wash all the stress of the day off before her dinner arrived.

She eats in front of the TV, when she notices that Charlie barely touches his food. Santana squints at him. He looked... different, something was off.

She gets distracted when Real Housewives comes on.

It's probably nothing.

-----------

Santana makes a hundred cat-lady jokes at Quinn's expense before complying when Quinn asks Santana to help her face-time Charlie.

"Oh my God, Santana!"

"What?"

"Why's he so fat? What have you been feeding him?"

"I just feed him the stuff you told me to buy, it's not cheap by the way, Q," she flips the camera back around so that Quinn's facing her and not the cat. "I don't even know what the big deal is, he looks-"

Santana's about to say fine when she gets a good look at the cat for the first time in weeks. That stupid Mucusin campaign's been taking up all her attention, that she didn't even notice. Charlie's gotten fat.

"I told you, you better return him in the same condition you got him!" Quinn chastises.

"Well, I'm not returning him yet," Santana huffs. "And I didn't take you for a fat-shamer, Lucy Caboosey."

Quinn scowls at that remark. "Seriously, calicos are supposed to weigh like 7 or 8 pounds. How much does he weigh?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? He was supposed to have a vet appointment last week!"

"Yeah but I didn't finish that Mucusin campaign until yesterday. I thought it would be fine to delay it by a week."

"Satan, I swear to God-"

"I'll take him!" Santana sighs exaggeratedly. "God, the way you fuss over your cat, wouldn't it be easier to just have a child?"

"Santana-"

"It'll be fine," she eyes the cat from his place by the coffee table. "He hasn't gotten that fat has he?"

"Yes!"

-----------

Santana takes Charlie to the vet and in six weeks in her care he's managed to put on five pounds. It's not a good look.

The vet recommends some diet cat food and that Charlie get some exercise. Since he's already out the whole day, Santana buys the way too expensive diet cat food and hopes that it will fix the situation.

She's not thrilled with the idea of having to spend her weekends taking the cat for a walk.

After another week, she manages to wrestle him onto the bathroom scale for long enough to see that he's not losing weight.

The mystery of the cat's weight gain finally gains traction while she's at work and her boss, Shelby pulls her into her office.

"Cheating scandal broke today," she places a file down in front of Santana.

"What are we dealing with?"

"Throat Explosion's lead singer came down with a case of mono, gave it to his girlfriend."

"So?"

"So, the day after, the bassist comes down with a case of mono too. The girlfriend's an actress, she's getting a pretty big following and the singer's taking a lot of heat. She kicked him out."

"He slept with the bassist?"

Shelby nods. "There were rumors before, but no one ever bothered to address it, they thought it would go away."

"Well it's not going to now. What do they want us to do?"

"What do you think?" Shelby raised a brow. "PR. They need damage control."

-----------

#Monogate gave Santana the breakthrough she needed. There was a third party involved. If she wasn't making changes to his diet and he was roaming about all day, there must be an external reason as to why he was gaining weight.

It's a Saturday when Santana finally decides that today will be the day she figures out who's been fattening up the cat.

She's bought him a tracking collar which synced with her phone. She checked the record previously to see that Charlie was only really exploring the apartment complex, never straying too far away from it. So she deduces it's someone else who lives in one of the apartments.

Santana knows that she has to move fast. Despite his weight gain, Charlie could still climb high and squeeze into spaces she couldn't.

When the sneaky little bastard slipped out from his kitty door, Santana quickly followed him out, tracking his steps on the app on her phone. It led her past the courtyard and into the garden patch of the complex, just by the fountain.

She waded through various potted plants, through the small pavement path in a mostly-grass covered area. A few of the plants had grown a little too tall and wound up smacking her in the face with their leaves. Santana kept glancing at her phone to make sure she was on the right track and was validated when she heard the sound of something being set down on the concrete and a pleased meow.

She scrambled through the rest of the plants and through the clearing, finding a woman, sitting on the bench and Charlie eating from a little orange cat bowl.

"Aha!" Santana exclaimed, leaping out from the garden and accusingly pointing at the cat, who didn't seem the least bit perturbed. She did however, come face to face with an amused looking woman.

Santana had expected some sad old guy who didn't have any friends and had taken to stealing the attention of the neighbour's cat but this woman was...well, gorgeous.

"Hi," the woman greeted her, seemingly unshaken by Santana's abrupt entrance.

"Hi," Santana managed to get out. "You're...you're the one who's been feeding my cat?"

"Oh is he yours?" she asks, reaching down to pet Charlie. "He likes to stop by here."

"Yeah, I mean...sort of," Santana frowns trying to explain the situation. "He's not mine, but he's in my care."

"Are you sure? Are you sure you're not a catnapper?"

Santana is partially amused but also a little offended. "Of course not! How can you accuse me of being a catnapper when you're the one feeding other people's pets?"

The woman frowns. "Feeding isn't the same as catnapping."

"So it's you? You're the one who's been fattening him up?"

"That's mean," the woman creases her forehead and pouts a little, rubbing Charlie's furry head. "I think he looks fine just as he is."

"What's he eating anyway?"

"Tuna casserole."

Santana's feelings of offense evaporate at this point and she's just confused.

"What?"

"My roommate is trying to learn to cook for her boyfriend," the woman explains. "I don't think it's very good but Cheeto seems to like it."

"Cheeto?"

She looks a little embarrassed. Santana thinks it's kind of cute. "That's not his name?"

"No, uh, his name is Charlie."

"Oh, I've been calling him Cheeto. The orange spots on his fur are kinda cheeto shaped. He doesn't seem to mind," she adds.

"No, I'm sure he doesn't."

Now sensing that Santana was out of accusation mode, the woman extended her hand.

"I'm Brittany, by the way. 1812," she gestures to the apartment behind her.

Santana shook it. "Santana. 1820"

"I like your name."

"Thanks. My mom picked it out."

Santana was horrified at the words that just left her mouth. What the hell was that? She knows how to talk to beautiful women, ok? She's just having an off day. Apparently her game had just decided to up and leave and go on vacation without telling her first.

Brittany giggles at that and scoots over a little on the bench, inviting Santana, mouth still slightly agape from her words, to take a seat next to her. She obliges and just stares down at Charlie tucking into his tuna casserole. She mostly stares down at the cat because Brittany's eyes are so very blue.

"So how long has this been going on exactly?"

"Maybe a month," Brittany shrugs. "He just kind of started coming around and one time he looked kinda hungry so I fed him the leftover's my roommate cooked. After that he kinda started coming around a lot."

"Leftovers huh? I guess the Cat Chow I've been feeding him doesn't really compare."

"Depends on the brand you buy, but usually cats prefer people-food even if it's not always the best for them. I try to only feed him stuff that cats would normally eat, like chicken and fish. Only stuff that they'd be able to catch in the wild."

"Huh. I had no idea about any of that."

"Ok, one time I fed him steak," Brittany says, looking a little guilty.

"Wow."

"My roommate bought this 14-pack of steak from Costco and I messed up with the freezing and the defrosting and we ended up just having to cook all of them. I thought maybe he should eat some before it went bad…" she trails off. "He seemed to really like it."

Santana chuckles a little. "Lucky Charlie, I bet he's the most well-fed cat in LA."

"Even more than all those pets to the stars?"

"Oh, totally, especially since he's apparently been getting double meals."

Brittany laughs and for reasons she doesn't quite understand, Santana can hear her heart beating louder in her chest.

"Sorry, if I've been stealing him away from you," she apologizes. "I just miss having a cat around."

"You had a cat before?"

"He lives back home with my parents. My roommate's allergic so I couldn't get another one even if I wanted to. I miss him sometimes. Even if he was leaking pages of my diary on the internet."

"Oh," Santana says, obviously confused. "Sounds like kind of a jerk."

"Yeah, but he has a good heart under all his addictions and gang affiliations."

"Right."

"So is Charlie your first?" Brittany asks.

"Is it that obvious I don't know what I'm doing?" Santana laughs. "I guess so. I mean, technically he's my friend's cat but she got sent to London for a couple months for work so she asked me to take care of him."

"I think you're actually doing pretty well considering he's your first cat. They're not as easy to take care of as everyone thinks," she comments as Charlie finishes his tuna casserole and jumps up onto the bench, where Brittany can pet him.

"Thanks."

"I also think you're a good friend."

Santana feels herself starting to blush and looks down at the ground to avoid eye contact. "You just met me. There's no way you could know that."

"Yeah but you're looking after your friend's cat while she's away, even though you don't really have any experience in it and you even tracked down to see where he was going when you thought something was up. Sounds like a pretty good friend to me."

"Yeah, well…" she mumbles, not sure of how to respond. "Listen, I think um, I think I'd be cool if you wanted to still hang out with Charlie and stuff. He seems to like you and I doubt I could stop him even if I wanted to."

Brittany's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe just go easy on the steak, though. My friend is a total helicopter cat-mom and she's not super happy with all the weight gain."

"I know an Atkins diet that might help."

"I mean, yeah, if you think-"

"Oh, thank you Santana!" with a big grin on her face, Brittany leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Santana in a big hug. The brunette was taken aback by it, clearly not expecting it, but was pleasantly surprised.

"Sorry," Brittany pulled away, looking a little embarrassed.

"No, don't be," she managed to get out. "Listen, Brittany, would it be cool if I got your number?" Santana realizes instantly what it sounds like and quickly tries to explain herself. "Since I obviously have no idea what I'm doing with this cat thing. Just, so I could like, text you if I have questions about cat food brands or going to the vet or something. You know, for Charlie's sake and everything," she added quickly.

"Totally," Brittany grinned. "I'll be like your cat whisperer."

Authors Notes:

If anyone here ever watched the show Chuck, the apartment complex in that show is kind of what I imagine the apartment complex here looks like.

I actually came up with this idea many years ago, but I didn't put pen to paper till recently. It was inspired by the fact that at a certain point my friend (and her parents) ended up feeding their neighbours cat on a regular basis and it started to get fat. This is also the first multi-chap I've written in years and the first Brittana multi-chap I've written at all.

#brittana #brittana fanfic #santana lopez #brittany pierce #pet-sitting!verse

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puffballkitten · 4 years ago

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Mew Year Mew me

Sorry kittens and whiskers its been a hot minute since I’ve posted or said anything on here, with this new year there was quite a few changes of things and some new additions of paws to my household so I’ll definitely be sharing pictures of them as well as my fluffball kitty you are well aware of now. Their names are Stevie and Sam so hopefully you’ll look forward to seeing them as well. I haven’t been the best about keeping things updated on here but I will definitely try to! If you’re not always on here maybe also try checking out my instagram, puffballkitten on twitter and insta ^.^

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allenmendezsr · 4 years ago

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sunkissis · 5 years ago

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Coucou,

Yesterday Antz and I picked up our cartes des titres (annual immigration renewal) for our second year in France. Voila!

It just happened to be the hottest day in France’s history and our celebration was short lived for two reasons, the first was Antz carte de titre is expiring five months earlier than mine because he has an issue with his health insurance. The weird thing is we both submitted identical paperwork (we have the same insurance) so this is French bureaucracy at its finest. We will have to reapply in October to fix this mistake. Then on the way home from the Prefecture, he realized he accidentally left his phone on the desk of the lady who helped us. We hurried back and got his phone, so despite these hiccups, we are still here (at least until January 2020!) which is a revelation.

I wanted to update our expat life in Paris since it’s been quite awhile. Antz has been working freelance (with US clients) and Liv is finally on summer break. I have been busy this summer hosting many friends visiting from the US. If you follow me on Instagram (you follow me, right?) then you can check out my Stories named Summer 2019. This is our first summer in Paris that we haven’t left town. I would love to share some of our daily experiences and observations that are different from our life in Los Angeles. Full disclosure, I don’t want to make this into a Paris vs LA comparison post or sound like I am complaining too much, I just want to give you a real perspective of some of the obstacles expats may confront. This doesn’t mean we don’t love living here and we are grateful everyday. I just want everyone to know, nowhere is perfect, even though photos may perceive it to be.

School summer break – Liv’s school summer break began after the first week of July. This is four weeks later than her school break in LA. It was difficult counting down those four weeks for us mostly because France was experiencing a canicule (insane heatwave) this year and it was so hot that school was cancelled due to the extreme temperatures. The good news is she had swimming class every Thursday which is wonderful. I used to race across town on Fridays for Liv’s 15 minute swimming lessons in Pasadena and most of that time she spent just waiting for her turn to swim. She wasn’t really making progress and I didn’t feel like it was worth the money and stress. So, we love that extracurricular activities are included in the school day here. It also helped her cool down during the heat.

During the last week of school, Liv’s class put on two performances for the parents. The first was a music and choir recital which was adorable beyond words. Then they did a play in French and Olivia portrayed a funny duck. Antz made her costume using stuff around the house, bien sûr. He even painted her old Adidas yellow.

Liv & her teacher

Most French families have second homes in the countryside so most of Olivia’s school friends are away on vacation. It’s been helpful that we’ve had so many visitors from LA so she’s seen many of her old friends. She also spent the first two weeks of summer break in camp! It’s a daily camp at the local recreation center (centre des loisirs). Everyday they ventured out into the city for field trips, swimming and nature hikes. She loved it!

It was a little hard for us to navigate the camp schedule because the website is in French and I couldn’t access my online account due to a glitch, so Liv had to translate for us the best she could. Our friend who works at her school helped us register her. It’s little things like this that sometimes can be frustrating. I need help setting up an online account so I can access the camp website yet there’s really no one to help me. So each day we didn’t find out what her schedule was until she came home and told us. Que sera, sera.

This is a typical day for me.

During the heatwave, Liv and I took the bus outside of Paris to go swimming. We arrived at noon but the attendant told us due to a “technical” issue the pool was temporarily closed. Such a bummer because it was burning hot and it took us over an hour to get there. Instead of going back home, we decided to go Pokemon Go hunting nearby and grabbed some sushi for lunch.

I love the Montreuil Mairie (town hall) and I caught a new 3-D Invader.

By the time we finished lunch, I called the pool and they told me it was open again. So, there is an inconsistent summer schedule in most of Paris. Did you know that a swim cap is required at public pools here? Liv’s cap never stays on because of her thick hair.

Most businesses have signs on their doors saying they are closed for weeks for summer holiday. August is the official month that Paris shuts down but most of my favorite places hopefully will be open. It’s been tricky when my friends visit because they want me to take them to all my favorite places but they have been closed all month.

We are fortunate to live close to Monoprix (French Target) which is open everyday except Sunday evenings (they close at noon). I practically live there, I go almost everyday.

For the past year we have been carrying heavy groceries home so last week I made our first delivery order with Monoprix. I was shocked that the minimum order was €50 and the earliest delivery time is the next day. It was almost a challenge to meet the €50 minimum to place the order. Luckily, I was able to stock up on bottled water, bags of ice and every heavy item I could think of. I used this app to place the order. If you happen to live in France and are thinking of placing an online order, please use my friend code for a discount for the both of us. The groceries arrive in crates which are easy to bring in our elevator.

I don’t know how often I’ll order delivery but it is a helpful service to utilize.

Since many restaurants are closed for summer vacation, we’ve had to resort to getting fast food because they are the only places open all-day. It’s not even close to how often we would eat fast food in Los Angeles but after a fourteen year boycott, I had to break my No-McDonalds policy out of starvation necessity. Here’s the difference, McDonalds in France have grass-fed beef, growth hormones are illegal, there is no such thing as super size and the largest drink size seems smaller than a kids size! The restaurants only have kiosks to order and there are no refills on drinks. You can order fresh croissants and even a McBaguette. There is no fast service in Paris, you wait much longer for your food but they rarely get your order wrong and if you order food to go you will always get napkins, and they package your drinks so they won’t spill. I do find it absurd that they charge for ketchup but offer curry sauce free. Honestly, McDonalds reminds me most of back home. PS the pizza here is dreadful.

I’ve been eating healthier because the food here isn’t full of pesticides and hormones. I do still crave food from America. Antz made this silly photo of me along with my favorite foods.

The pepperoni pizza, hot fried chicken and butter crunch candy are only available in the US and I miss them the most!

Navigating daily life in Paris can be a 50/50 split. The French have a way of making everything beautiful but also miserable. French people believe that air conditioning will make you sick so they have practically outlawed it except for tiny portable units that are noisy and only work if you stand directly in front of them. They are very progressive in their culture but some things they refuse to move forward on. If you order ice in a restaurant they look at you like you asked to murder a baby. Their language is elegant poetry that I could listen to all day, yet a nightmare to learn with a varying degree of rules. Paris is a living piece of art. My favorite part of living here is discovering new street art and gorgeous architecture. It’s so refreshing not to be overwhelmed with advertising billboards, loud airplanes and tacky strip malls. I love finding new street art in our neighborhood. Sadly, someone has been going around the city painting over Invaders, the wall that awesome mural Liv is standing in front of was just demolished and someone tore down this Madame Chat. It’s so annoying that there are haters out there that must destroy to feel better about themselves. I am lucky I have so many photos of this precious art that is always disappearing.

Beauty is truly everywhere here however…don’t spend too long looking up at the stunning buildings because there is dog poop everywhere! It’s terribly smelly this summer due to the hot poop on the sidewalks. It’s weird how there are absolutely no stray animals in Paris yet so much poop. There’s also a urine epidemic that disgusts me. Yucky men piss in broad daylight on the streets with no regard. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen men standing against a wall or tree peeing in public. Listen, I can tolerate the smoke, I am used to the traffic noise but the pissing in public and nobody bats an eye, I do not like it at all. Women aren’t squatting on the streets openly peeing so why do men get to spray walls like feral animals? The city even puts out these open urinals (I suppose to suppress the peeing on buildings) but I don’t understand why this is even necessary? There are enclosed toilets everywhere so why do I have to walk around in piss puddles because baby boys can hold their pee pee until they get home like us ladies have to. Ugh! Do not fight me on this, it’s gross and needs to stop. Put your weiner away guys!

This adorable kitty on a leash at the post office, I absolutely support.

Désolé, on a sunnier note, Liv and I spend a lot of time at parks near our apartment. I love the small parks full of shady trees and benches. I haven’t seen many swings in parks here. There rarely is grass lawns that you are allowed to walk on. They usually have dirt or sand which bums me out because it’s dirty but there is a park with shock absorbent pavement similar to York Park in Highland Park. Most parks have ping pong tables so we bought our own set to play.

For every complaint I may have, the trade off is we still live in freaking Paris! The most romanticized city in the world. Like any place it has it’s typical up and downs. I can’t tell you have many times I’ve been told one thing and then the next day the exact opposite. We have been battling with our landlord for over a year to fix our slow wifi speed and replace our phone so we can buzz visitors into our building. I spend hours sending emails and making calls to customer service and I rarely get results no matter how wrong they may be. It is practically criminal to admit a mistake no matter how glaring it may be. It’s become funny to us how many contradictions we encounter. The rules always change but no one tells you what the rules are, it’s up to you to figure it out. I’m proud that I’ve rented an apartment, gotten Liv into a great school, made many friends (although several of our expat friends have moved on) without speaking the language or having any family here to help us. Everyday we still pinch ourselves we are here.

I love this flawed yet magnificent place and I feel French in my heart even with my ‘orreeble Fwench ahzent! Merci, for reading my blog and I hope you stick around whilst I catch up on our travel posts from this past year. I am working hard to upload, edit and post over 100,000 photos.

Bisous,

The Hall Conleys

Expat Life in Paris: What’s it really like? Coucou, Yesterday Antz and I picked up our cartes des titres (annual immigration renewal) for our second year in France.

#expats #living abroad #Paris

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rachelcabbit · 8 years ago

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Once again, like a bi-annual Easter I have returned from Blogging Death to bring forth a few posts about my 24-Hour Readathon aspirations before falling into a deep and silent slumber for the next 6 months. Or perhaps not. We’ll see.

The April 2017 Readathon starts soon and I feel decently prepared for it. I remembered it in advance, which sometimes doesn’t happen. Sometimes I only realise the day before. This time I’ve been having a think about what I want to do. Not that it made much difference. I still left it until now to assemble my TBR pile, and left snack prep to the last minute, and blog writing.

My book selection is ambitious and varied as usual. I’ve selected a couple of Graphic Novels, a couple of short stories and short story collections, a poetry book, some average legth novels and a beast of a novel. Plus whatever catches my fancy from my 2 kindles. I don’t expect to finish them all, and I’ve already made a little start with a couple of the longer books, but as I will be sleeping for a chunk of the readathon, I don’t think it matters much.

I will be sleeping. I’m not going to kid myself this year that I will do that once (and only once!) accomplished feat of a full 24 hours awake and reading. I have fibromyalgia and have not been well for the past 2 years – and this year has been much worse than previous years. If I don’t sleep, my pain becomes much worse and I become bedridden for days. So I’ll be taking my usual sleeping tablets at 7pm GMT and will probably be asleep by 11pm, but will wake up between 7am and 9am to do that final few hours.

Snack-wise, I’ve ordered in as I couldn’t be bothered to go shopping. I will be taking a break from my Slimming World plan since there wasn’t that great a selection on Amazon Prime UK. My order arrived 10 mins ago – just in time! Popcorn, ricecakes, sesame breadsticks, chocolate, Haribo and sunflower seeds. I have some Cherry Pepsi Max, tea, coffee and water to drink.

Reading Nook-wise, I’ve got a couple of spots I want to rotate through today. I’m startig off in bed, because it’s warm and cosy. I’ll move to the living room later on and switch between my reading armchair and the couch, both with blankets as its rather dull and nippy today in North East England. Perhaps a hot water bottle for my sore tummy. Lots of cups of tea. I have a nice little chair in my office too, and if my kitty, Smudge, lets me (as it is one of her favourite spots) I may sit there for a little bit and get some sunrays (even though the sun isn’t bright!).

I’m currently being seranaded by my neighbours and their children. I have rather nosy neighbours and they are currently listening to the Moana soundtrack on repeat and singing along. It rather spoiled the mood of the book I was reading, so it is possible I will have to resort to playing my own music loudly to drown out theirs!

This blog post has taken a couple of hours to prepare so I’m not sure how regularly I will be updating. I’d rather be reading!

Readathon April 2017 Prep Once again, like a bi-annual Easter I have returned from Blogging Death to bring forth a few posts about my 24-Hour Readathon aspirations before falling into a deep and silent slumber for the next 6 months.