Hi! Do you remember blogs? Well, this used to be one. Now it just serves as an archive for my multiple Twitter accounts.

27 May 2004

Screwed !

There we are, it’s official. It had been lingering for three or four months, we were pretty sure it would happen, but we were waiting for confirmation. And there it is. My mother has obtained a transfer to Avranches.

Oh, it sure seems very nice and quiet over there, and it’ll certainly be good for her: quiet, fresh ocean air, a large and new apartment, but… this is my blog, not hers, and this post isn’t about celebrating but complaining.

For a while, I’ve been trying to convince myself that exile could be good for me. Not tempted to go out anymore, I’d have more time for my, uh, artistic, uh, career, I mean, make websites, write novels, shoot DV movies on the beach… Mwaha. And, away from Paris, you have a smaller sample of boys, so you’re less picky and you get married more easily, don’t you? Isn’t that what everybody says when criticizing the gay ghettos? Mwaha-ha. Gotta be realistic: the only positive aspect is having a new room, starting fresh without the mess I accumulated here over the years. But there are rooms in Paris, too, and they have the advantage of being closer to… Paris. Besides, I really don’t feel at all like going through the moving process with my parents (especially considering the… current… atmosphere).

Which brings us to the core question: staying in Paris or dying. Uh… no, that’s not what I meant, but… uh, actually, it probably is.

Option 1: find a job, and a flat. In two months. Even if I did find a job (which is just about totally impossible for me anyway), even if the pay was good, I’d have practically zero chance of getting a real estate owner to trust me. What, you have only one payroll? Ha! Ha!

Option 2: find some roommates (and either find a job, or work more as a freelancer, which might be achievable). I guess it’s not completely impossible, but there are still two big problems: first, shared accomodation in Paris isn’t that much cheaper; second, where would I find one or several human beings that I could stand living with for more than two days?

Option 3: state-sponsored, cheap rents. It’s a pity that I only found out two weeks ago that people willing to move away from their parents’ home were considered a priority for those. But now, even if I’m a priority, I hardly have any chance of being granted a flat in two months. And if I have to move to Avranches, then come back… since it’s the moving part that annoys me most, it’s a bit silly.

Option 4: buying a camping-car and squatting near a wi-fi hotspot. I don’t know if sleeping in a car in the midle of a city is legal, and I can imagine there would be many reasons it wouldn’t. Besides, charging the batteries, emptying the toilets… it must all be complicated.

Option 5: sleeping under the bridges. But after three days I’ll be too dirty to get cute boys anymore, so there won’t be any point in staying in Paris.

If you see an alternative I forgot, don’t hesitate to let me know. It could help, because I’m a bit lost now.

In the meantime, depression, here I come!

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