Day 117: Get Royally Screwed. Part Deux.

Illustration from Funeral Face
I've arrived back in Paris! My flight was uneventful (which is a good thing) and the wonderful Sébastien was waiting for me at the  airport holding a mini American flag that said 'Welcome Home Ella'. Amazing. After our dramatic reunion in front of innocent Charles de Gaulle bystanders we met up with Phil and had lunch at my favorite brasserie Le Saint Gervais. 
After a satisfying first lunch back in town, Sébastien had to return to work and I did the dreaded walk up to my flat. I was terrified what I'd find, or rather what I'd not find. Upon opening the door, I found that Charles who I let stay there for a few days, did the best he could to clean up the total crack den that my sublet Katie from Smithtown, NY left it. All of my lightbulbs are gone (so shady), my lamps are broken, my forks and wine glasses are missing, my towel rack is hanging on one hinge, my dove grey carpeting has water stains everywhere, there's crust build-up on my bathroom walls and the worst thing ever...she dug through my things hidden in boxes in the back of my closets and stole my personal items. Special personal items. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. 
Are you fucking kidding me? I was robbed. She robbed me. I don't want to be in my flat alone because I feel absolutely violated. All of my things have been fished through and items were selected to this child's liking. Good thing I put my family jewelry in a safe at Phil's house but who would have known that a one month sublet would turn into such a nightmare. To make matters worse, my neighbors filled me in their observations (because there were men coming in and out of my flat at all ours of the night) alluding to the fact that my apartment was a whore house and don't get me started on the missing lightbulbs. I'm at a point where I can't even make this stuff up. So Katie, please come forward with my things. I know you're reading this...I'm beyond pissed and I want my shit back. Even if I was staying at Rachel Zoe's house I would never rob her of her fabulous things that she worked for (yes, you work for nice things - not steal them), it's just not what you do especially when someone was so kind to you and gave you an amazing welcome to Paris. That's just me I guess...Katie, I'll be waiting to hear from you.
J'ai envie de casser sa gueule....(Readers: Feel free to re-post this. Merci.)