Down and Out in Paris

Well, it has been about a month now since my bank card got shut down, and I am learning how to truly live on a budget. As frustrating as it is to watch my friends swipe their shiny metallic cards at stores and bars, I am constantly reminding myself how much money I am probably saving by not being the girl who buys rounds for everybody. However, it is now almost November and I’m feeling antsy: a trip to Barcelona or Heidelberg is in the works, and I am at a loss as to how to pay for it. I am operating on a cash-only basis, which makes trip-planning rather difficult, and I am about thisclose to calling Bank of America and letting them know exactly  how I feel about this situation, in rather explicit and graphic terms. I’ve also considered my options as far as more emergency funding: perhaps I could organize a heist at the Musee D’Orsay – I’m sure Manet’s works are worth millions – or become really friendly with a wealthy Parisian man who can just take me to expensive dinners, and maybe Chanel while we’re at it. I would have opened a French bank account, but 1) I am only here for about 5 months, one month short of the minimum time required by many banks to open an account and 2) French banking makes American banking look as effortless and efficient as, oh I don’t know, the German healthcare system. And in further news, the Euro now boasts a 1,40 value over the dollar, so my money here means even less than it did when I arrived. In short, I am in Paris, with a serious lack of funds, and I’m ready to get out. Barcelona, here I come…


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