Sometimes France doesn’t like me.
We had a fun day today. I bought my first baby thing. It is a cute little sleeping bag type thing that all the babies sleep in here. We have to bring three with us to the hospital when I deliver, so I bought my first today! Below is a picture of the little sleeping bag thing!
When we got home from this shopping spree we found that our neighbors had taken our name off our mailbox because it was not printed on metal, but typed on a white piece of paper. It felt so wrong for someone to do this without warning us and letting us know we need to change it. We have almost had enough of this place. Today I told Justin that I am ok with putting in our three month notice. Scary not knowing where we would live, but it is so obvious that our French older neighbors do not appreciate the young, spirited Americans that live in their building. Ok, that isn’t totally true. Our neighbors across the way and above us are really nice.
The craziest thing that happened today was when I used the bathroom at BHV (a big department store where I bought the little sleeping bag thing). The stalls are not like in the U.S. They are fully enclosed. No room to peep on top and no room to peek underneath. It was entirely tiled with a door to give COMPLETE privacy. Everything was normal until I tried to get out. Yep, the door would NOT open! It was horrible! The hot, bright light was shining down on me and suddenly I became quite claustrophobic. I tried to open it for about five minutes before finally knocking on it saying, “Pardon!” Nobody responded. Luckily Justin was waiting for me outside the bathroom, so I gave him a ring and explained what was happening, trying to keep my voice from shaking as I was feeling embarrassed, hot, and a bit panicky. He went in the women’s bathroom and tried to explain to the lady that I was locked in the bathroom. She tried to unlock the door for about three or four minutes before realizing it wasn’t going to happen. In the meantime, I am getting hotter and hotter from the bright little light and getting a bit nauseated as well from the strong smell of public toilet. Finally I can hear a few men talking outside my door. I called Justin to find out what was going on to have one of the men say to me (several times might I add), “Stay quiet.” I wanted to tell him to shut up and get me out the bathroom and that as long as I was stuck in this prison cell with a toilet, I will talk on the phone! I was getting a bit frustrated at this point. They tried and tried to unlock the door, but failed. About 25 minutes after getting stuck in this nasty, smelly, hot toilet room, they pried open the door with a crow bar. I was finally free! Sweating profusely, but free nonetheless.
So that is why France doesn’t like me.
OH MY! That is terrible! This could only happen to my friend Jen. God allows this so you have plenty of fodder for your upcoming book release….
OH MY GOODNESS! this is the first time i’ve been on your blog i must admit and i can’t believe your story! all i have to say is…only in france could this happen! that is so terrible…but at least now you have a pretty awesome story. by the way, i think that you should go back to BHV and tell them that you want to be compensated for the emotional trauma it caused. (i must further admit that i laughed my head off at your story…as did my mom)
ps- i miss you