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April 23, 2008

paperwork

What a pile up of paperwork. Whoever thought about all of the paperwork a baby created. Birth certificates, inscription in the nursury, bla bla.

Here in Paris getting a child into a public nursury is a complicated thing. Basically as soon as you find out that you are expecting you should go and contact the hospital and then the nursery. At five months of being pregnant the nursury takes your preregistration then you have to go to the city hall at about 7 month pregnant and then within two weeks after the baby is born you have to go back to the nursery or crêche and leave all of you papers including tax revenue. The city hall is not supposed to make money off of the people but it seems that they prefer to take people that can pay max with a fixed income compared to poor artists. Artists are sort of something bizarre.

We had three days tio register the birth but seeing how sunday was one of those days and then the dossier would not be deposited at the city ahll until 3pm on monday we really had only a day and a few hours to register. There is ton more things to do.

I'm to tired to think about it, just give me some chocolate. I actually had a guiness today. They say that it is good for milk production.

May 5, 2008

the italian consulate in Paris

What a nightmare! The only way to go there, from what they say on the website is to have an appointment. They ask you what you need to do and then give you an appointment. When you get there and it is a real bitch to get there with public transport, I took a taxi, then you have the tipical idiot at the door that runs around pretending he has something to do an that his job is really important. I said that I had an appointment at 11 to get something done and he seemed so interested and then pointed me to the line. The looooooooong line. I get to the window finally, the line behind me growing with growling people. I say I have an appointment at 11 with baby in tow and they say okay go sit down and they will call you.
Like every Italian public office nothing is clear. Everything is an interpretation and if you are somebody or decrepit they will let you pass everybody else. The guy at the door has the primary function of finding out who is decrepit or VIP and raccomandando to pass everyone else.
Luckily my assistent was extremely helpful in keeping the baby asleep for almost the entire time, somthing that has thrown off todays schedule. Finally they call us and we get to the most incompetent woman that is a permanent nervous breakdown that has to print everything at least twice and has to ask the other guy what to do.
I ended up breast feeding in a chair at the window because the little baby couldn't wait any longer and started to cry. The stressed public officer freaking out while trying to type two documents. I wanted to ask her all these questions but chose not to interfere with her twitching eyes and various tics.
After over two hours we finally left with the mission accomplished. That was incredible. And the French have the gaul (ha ha) to complain about their burocracy?!

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