Moving Day

This past weekend, I helped the ever-so-talked-about Brazilian move from his "Harry Potter Cubby Hole" to another flat across town. Believe me, I didn't want to do it. I don't like to move. I don't move myself. And when most people ask, I offer money in exchange for my services. But Lorenzo needed my help. Besides that, it was an opportunity for me to spend not only more time with the South American but other new friends including Stephan, Xavier and Bruno.

As most can attest, making friends is hard. But as time goes by, you settle into a group of people you can appreciate and trust. Fortunately for us here in Paris, we've stumbled across a nice collective of individuals we enjoy. The funny thing is they aren't American. So even though game nights won't happen, and cultural Pee Wee references are lost, there's something special about our newfound European friends.

So moving day wasn't much more than relocating furniture. It was a chance for me to bond with the boys. They say difficult challenges bring people closer together. On Saturday, as the rain pelted my face and my back screamed for a massage, that's exactly what they did.