Fully Equipped Marais

I live above a teddy bear shop.  A teddy bear shop, and Paule Ka.  Welcome to the Marais, where nothing makes since, and everything clashes beautifully.  I have now moved into my new home here in the 4eme arrondissement of Paris, and though I love the neighborhood, the apartment itself is, how shall I put this nicely, a fixer-upper.  There is nothing on the walls besides a full-length mirror turned sideways, the lightbulb covers are-- wait for it-- DaVinci's Vitruvian Man (c'est de la classe, ca, non?), and I am pretty convinced that if I step on several of the floorboards I will fall right through to the ground floor. Oh, and the toilet is electric, but I won't go into that except to say that, as a friend so kindly pointed out, if the electricity goes out, I can't use the bathroom.  BUT, the apartment is about the size of a hotel room, and is on the 1ere etage (2nd american floor), which is a huge improvement from my place two years ago (9m2, anyone? 7th floor no elevator?).  So, I am taking it on as a project.  Really, I have nothing better to do for the next few weeks.  But I would first like to make a short inventory of what came with this lovely, fully equipped apartment:

1 set of shelves

1 full-length mirror (turned sideways, which sort of defeats the purpose)

2 pots

1 very small pan

2 forks

1 knife 

5 spoons

8 plates

1 bowl 

6 towels

1 tiny marble table that barely fits my laptop

2 chairs (though the table can't actually fit 2 people)

1 tv almost at ceiling level

1 working shutter

1 broken shutter

1 bed

So, as you can see, there's beaucoup de work to be done.  Thus far I have bought a night stand, moved the shelves, re-positioned the mirror, put up some wall-hangings, thoroughly washed EVERYTHING, and at some point I will find a few more bowls, and a complete set of silverware.  Prospects look good.  One thing I can't change, unfortunately, is the 6am  trash truck.  On the dot. Every morning.  And evidently, it takes a full 10-15 minutes to empty the trash cans on my corner.  Interesting.

However, I should not like to be labeled an ingrate, or be accused of taking for granted the fact that I'm living in Paris, so I shall now talk about the good things.  For example, this fabulous neighborhood.  And It's fabulous.  The kind of fabulous where you flick your wrist, shrug your shoulders forward, and roll your eyes upward.  Dah-ling.  Everyone is beautiful.  Everyone is hip.  History: The Marais is the oldest part of Paris.  It was home to dukes, lords, and kings, and fortunately a lot of that old architecture, along with several ex-royal residences, is still intact.  The word "marais", however, means "marsh," so it's no surprise that, after a while, the rich kids moved out.  In the early 20th century, it became the Jewish quarter, but then WWII and Hitler came along, and it was empty once again.  In the past few decades, it has been revived by the stylish, the up-and-coming designers, and (thus), the gays.  The Jewish influence and community still makes its home here, however, so in a typical neighborhood stroll, one sees trendy, expensive boutiques, the best falafel in the city, lots of gay nightclubs, and lots of Jewish bakeries.  Hunched old men in black suits, hats, and earlocks walk next to young, hip, flamboyantly gay men holding hands.  I love it.

Welcome to the Marais.