Things are a little wonky this week. For one thing, I’m sitting for the (very sweet) blind dog that lives up yonder in the 17th arrondissement, so I’m not staying at my place. Oh yeah, and my sister Aimee arrived yesterday. Have I seen her yet? Nope! Did I pick her up at the airport? Hell no! Betwixt various important commitments like administering doggie eyedrops, I’ve spent the last three business days in blind terror trying to track down an item that went missing from the photo shoot. It costs more than your average American automobile, but that’s irrelevant. What is relevant? Another magazine wants to shoot it in New York at the end of the week. Lost publicity! Now that's something that has relevance! The PR people would like my head with a side order of pomme frites and the whole ordeal has shaved five years off my life. In a nutshell.
What else? Oh, when my sister arrived, I asked her to call me from the apartment so I knew she got in okay, only...turns out my lines had been cut off. Ha ha! I forgot to pay France Telecom, silly me! You think I can be bothered with paying dumb bills when I’ve got pricey designer press samples to lose? As if!
Well, at least she has a place to sleep, right? I mean, I didn’t manage to supply fresh bedsheets or, hell, even leave a note explaining how anything works, but I had a brand new bar of Dove lying around, which I laid carefully on a folded towel beside the bed. Welcome to Paris, Aimee! Here’s a bar of soap! Have fun with my dirty dishes! Careful not to nick the parquet whilst heaving your valise up those five flights of stairs!
Speaking of rolling out the welcome mat, there's no spare key for the second downstairs door to my building, so before she could even access my dirty, phoneless apartment, she had to loiter until some random stranger let her in. “Hi! I’m cold and jet lagged and can’t really speak French, let me in, okay? Want some soap?”
Can I tell you another funny thing? Today’s her birthday. What do I look like, Santa Claus? Of course I don’t have a present. I think I’m going to buy macaroons from Laduree on my way to the apartment tonight. A food gift! Originale, non? Nothing like waiting till the last minute to ensure that you overspend on something entirely inappropriate!
In summary: Welcome to Paris, sister! Now massage my feet!