Comme ci Comme ça

There's been a lot of soul-searching in my life lately.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this, so bear with me.

I'm leaving Paris.

I knew I'd be out eventually, as so many things do come to an end. Work permits expire and your welcome mat gets yanked out from underneath your feet. Sure, staying is an option, but I don't want to, even having a bit of a laugh when it was suggested. I mean, it's a lovely place to live. Much less stressful and hectic than New York in so many ways, and just so pleasing on a sunny day. I always felt a bit wrong bitching about living here except with other expats who are going through the same thing, and then it just becomes a gripe fest. I mean, so many people dream of living in Paris and want to, so I feel a bit wrong criticizing their dreams and being a downer about the whole thing. It's a beautiful city.

It hasn't been easy- pretty much everything we did has been a struggle right out of the gate. No one makes it easy to live here. Also, mon aéroglisseur est plein d'anguilles.

I've met a lot of nice people. I've made some friends, but no one who I would consider to be close or anyone I would do anything other than party with. Truth be told, almost everyone I could consider a friend has already scattered around the globe as their permits run out. I've also met a lot of pretentious assholes, but you'll find those not exclusively in Paris (although it did seem to attract them like flies here). But overall, it's been lonely. It's hard to be someplace where you aren't fluent in the language, even after years of working on it. I'm still lost in conversation and all those odd expressions that don't translate at all. It has not been les doigts dans le nez "fingers in the nose", or easy, as one might say.

I went to buy a baguette at the bakery down the street the other day. From the bakery that I tend to buy bread from on most days. I asked, very clearly, in French, "Un tradition, si vous plait!" and the woman, who I buy bread from daily decided to mock my accent in a rather mean fashion. Which is just a rotten thing to do. I glared, she handed me the bread, I will not be back. The locals here can just be kind of mean- this is by far not the first time I've been mocked for attempts to communicate, but for some reason this especially annoyed me. They don't really care for outsiders, and they are threaten by anything or anyone that is not here to carry on tradition, and I felt that way from the get go. The more French I learned, the more I wish I didn't hear. I think this is what keeps Paris from being anything else but Paris- a provincial attitude when it comes to foreigners. While I've had plenty of people be patient and kind and helped me, they have been few and far between.

The chance to travel, to see a part of the world I wouldn't have time or the ability to see otherwise. That totally made it worth it. I loved hosting and entertaining friends here. The museums and parks are unbeatable. Picnics! Oh, how I'll miss sitting around with a bottle of wine and some cheese and lazing about on a lawn with friends. My diet in summer here is picnic. Everyone should picnic more.

Also, I will miss that this was my breakfast on most Sundays:

That's just...so very good. That makes me tear up a bit thinking about how that is no longer an easy option. Very few of my Sundays will now be spent wandering the Marias, eating falafel and faire du lèche-vitrine, and that is just enjoyable.

It's a touching, romantic city. That is, until you step in dog shit because Parisians refuse to take responsibility for themselves and their canines.

Some other thoughts: My skin has never looked better. Between the fact that I've gotten very little sun damage and the amazing amounts of skin products to slather on every chance I get, my skin is gorgeous. I've gone through several tubes of red lipstick. I've been inspired by the way the women here dress- less makeup, more stylish chic clothing. Showing cleavage is just too brassy and trashy for the Paris crowd, but legs are fair game all the way up. Wear your hair long and messy, never perfect, but perfectly just so. And never, ever leave the house in anything other than your best. None of this sweatpants and no makeup when you are out to run errands. And, whatever you do, don't work too hard an put any extra effort. The minimal will do, with plenty of long lunch breaks to keep your stress level down.

The movers came, packed up what little I have here, and sent it off to a new place. Which, I don't quite know where yet, but it will make it to the correct country I'm sure. One good thing about shipping things by boat is you don't have to give them a delivery address for a bit.

I am ruined on wine and cheese, and I can't even bother eating bread once I leave. T'is the hazard of spending too much time in Paris

I'm headed into the ether for a bit, which means there will be crickets invading my blog. I'll be back eventually, I just don't do really well writing on the road so I don't bother trying. I'll be here and there before settling for a new adventure anyway, and I'll tell you all about it when I get there.

A true fact: saying "Adieu" means a final goodbye. "Au revior" is more appropriate to say to someone on a day-to-day basis. So if someone is saying Adieu to you that you are likely to see in the future, they are basically saying they don't want to see you again as long as you are living and breathing on this earth. Harsh!

Adieu for now, Paris. I can't say it's been great, but it's been an experience that I wouldn't trade for le monde.

Butte Chaumont

The quest for a quiet park away from the hoards of tourist that have taken over the more central gardens leads to some lovely places.

Not always true of Butte Chaumont. This was the hill where executed criminals would be left on display in the medieval times, and later it became a dump. Generally, an unpleasant bit of real estate until the mid-19th century, where it was made into a sprawling, hilly park.

It's a great place for a relaxing, wine-fueled picnic and you get a nice view of the city and a beautiful sunset as well. That's pretty much a Paris storybook tale right there.

C'est quoi, ce truc rond et jaune ?

Paris is currently all abuzz about the weather. After a cold, wet spring that I think was technically called "late winter", the sun came out and the earth heated up and we've had a stunning past couple weeks.

Picnics and festivals and concerts outside are all much better without getting pelted by rain, and having to layer your cute summer dress with wool tights and layers of sweaters. Rather optimistically, I picked up bottles of fancy sunscreen during the Soldes and this year, I've actually gotten to use them.

I totally get the magic of Paris now. It's truly a spectacular place with shadows and long, low light in the extended afternoons into evening. The sun doesn't set until almost 10pm still, which means you can laze around in a park until security chases you away.

I've barely eaten anything that wasn't picnic food lately. I do miss having a BBQ. Even in NYC, I had a little bucket grill that I would haul out to Prospect Park to fire up on nice weekends. In Paris, there are no fires permitted in the city, so you can't even grill if you have a little backyard. I miss that.

Cafe business is booming.

But mostly, I am in love with the light.

Last summer, we barely saw the light until August. This is just refreshing.

And people here are out, and the attitude adjustment has been remarkable. How can you be having a bad day with the sun smiling down upon you? Everyone hates a killjoy on days like this.

There's barely any outdoor space devoid of picnickers. In theory, having a bottle of wine will get you a ticket, but I've never seen it happen. It's just what you do here. You sit out, you drink your wine, you chat with friends while clouds of cigarette smoke drift by. Which, lately, has been replaced by electronic cigarette vapor, which is just not the same.

I hope you are having a fantastic summer. Take a lesson from Paris and enjoy it!

Bateau on the Seine

I do love having company. Aside from the social aspect of re-connecting with old friends, it's great fun for me to take people around town. I feel like an undercover tourist, able to really see the city again through naive tourist eyes. I'm not sick of it yet anyway.

The day was warm and sunny, so we planned to have a picnic on the Champ de Mars, but we were going to get there creatively. We looked at several boat companies and settled on the hop-on, hop-off one so we could get back home eventually.

Well.

It didn't quite work out as smoothly as promised as we ended up waiting for several boats before one would actually let us on, and on the way home, the river was too high to pass under the bridges past the Louvre (but, you know...no announcement, just a bemused curiosity as to whey we got to turn around and do it all over again), so we ended up making another loop around and then having to take the metro home. Anyway...the company was fine, the picnic was good, and the scenery from the back of the boat was as good of a way as any to check out the city on a fine sunny Sunday.

That's the Tour Saint-Jacques. It was part of a church that was destroyed during the revolution, but oddly enough, instead of razing the whole thing in the aftermath, they just left the church steeple as a monument.

One odd thing to see on such a sunny day: jet contrails zig-zagging across the sky. It's usually so cloudy here, you don't see them.

Parisians will sit out by the river and picnic every possible chance they can get.

It's so dreary here for most of the year, it's a real mood lifter, and for days after a sunny weekend, you will see the people of Paris with telltale pink cheeks and odd tan lines.

Pont Alexander is, by far, the most ornate bridge.

Destination picnic!

The lawns around the Eiffel Tower are popular with locals and tourist alike. It's great people watching, and sitting on a blanket with our wine and cutting board of fromage and saucisson sec and good baguette got us in some starring roles of tourist photographs all over the world.