30 March, 2007 | 7 Comments

This morning I enjoyed a breakfast that I will dream about for weeks, months…years. Yes, it was that good.

I became a fan of Ladurée last fall when I tasted their macarons. My sister and her friend are in Paris right now and my sister’s friend is a big Ladurée lover too. Before their arrival, I discovered that Ladurée offers breakfast that isn’t just the standard pastry, baguette and yogurt. No, Ladurée offers…French toast! With maple syrup! I have no idea if French toast is actually French in origin — perhaps like French fries, it’s a Belgian creation. They call it “le pain perdu” here — lost bread.

Since my visitors have been in town, we’ve been eating non-stop. (More photos to come!) But today is the day we’ve been waiting for, French toast day. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had French toast? Sigh. And this is no ordinary French toast. I’m no culinary expert, but it appears to be made with brioche. We each ordered our own serving and none of us could completely finish it. It was divine — but very rich and sweet, so much so that we each got a rather nasty headache-inducing sugar buzz towards the end. But who cares.

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30 March, 2007 | 1 Comment

There’s now a nifty new contact form on the About page. I erased my bio because I’m writing a new one and I noticed that as soon as I erased it, the 5,000 spam messages I get per day advertising penis enlargement suddenly stopped flowing into my inbox. What a blessed day that was. I don’t really need to make my non-existent penis any larger, thanks very much. So I hope this new contact form does the trick.  You have to answer a simple math question in order for your message to go through — something like, “what is 13 +2?”  So it looks like I won’t be hearing from the penis enlargers or those who can’t add.  I can live with that.

The aforementioned problem in RSS is fixed, thanks to a plug-in installed by Emily. Seems the problem was indeed a quirk of the new WordPress. I don’t know why I’m so nice to you subscribers.

And finally, welcome to all my new readers from China, who are landing here via this blog that linked to my post on female infanticide. That blog must be pretty darn popular. Greetings!

29 March, 2007 | 5 Comments

I love the new WordPress upgrade. Autosave! Ahhh!

If you subscribe to this blog via RSS, then you probably noticed that you have to click through to read some of my posts. What a major imposition! Oh la la. I think this might have to do with the aforementioned upgrade. I’m working on it…

And finally, one of my friends wrote my real name in a blog comment recently and I didn’t notice it for a few days, until someone pointed it out. Oh la la. I don’t care if people know my name, I just keep it off this site for professional reasons. So I hope you all like my name. You’re probably pronouncing it wrong though.

29 March, 2007 | 3 Comments

I bought a new handbag today. I could fit a toddler or a medium-sized dog in it. In other words, it’s just the right size.

I’ve been looking for a handbag for quite a while. I went to Galeries Lafayette, but found nothing I wanted that cost less than 900€. God, sometimes I wish I had a Sugar Daddy. That’s just a fleeting fantasy though, so don’t worry. Becoming a respectable sort-of prostitute doesn’t appeal to me. Plus, no Sugar Daddy would want me — I’m too combative.

So anyway, they had a sale bin at Galeries Lafayette — you know, where a bunch of purses are thrown in and you can rummage through the pile and perhaps find something that isn’t total crap? Well, at Galeries Lafayette this sale bin contained 500€ Burberry handbags. Only in Paris.

I ended up going to a neighborhood shop and buying a cheapish purse that looks expensive. If it lasts till the end of the summer, I’ll be shocked.

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28 March, 2007 | 7 Comments

A few weeks ago I posted a photo of a luscious pink bouquet and asked if anyone could identify the flowers. Well, you all were right — they’re ranunculus! (A name so obscure that spell check doesn’t recognize it.) One of my friends who commented wrote that she’d bet her life on it. That’s pretty darn certain. I’m embarrassed to admit I’d never heard of ranunculus and don’t ever remember seeing them until I came to Paris. But they are everywhere here, in all the flowers shops. And I am totally smitten! So I have a new favorite flower.

Changing your favorite flower is a big decision and it should not be made lightly. Tulips have traditionally been my favorite — I come from a long line of tulip lovers. Last year in London I flirted with peonies, so seduced was I by seeing them bobbing their little heads at all the flower stalls. And peonies smell wonderful too. But I never made the official change. And thank goodness I waited! Ranunculus have won my heart. The only thing I don’t like about them is that they have an ugly name and they don’t smell nice. But I can learn to live with that.

My sister and her friend are in Paris this week (more on that tomorrow). When I met them for dinner tonight, my sister surprised me with a bouquet of ranunculus! My first bouquet! And they’re pink, of course, because everything is better in pink. I’m not sure how she knew they were my favorite. Could be that I talk about them all the time and take photos whenever I see them? Probably. Her friend that she’s traveling with was one of the original ranunculi-commenters from my earlier post. So my sister is surrounded by not one but two ranunculi obsessives. It’s like a cult.

My flowers:

26 March, 2007 | 10 Comments

Okay, this is a long one. And probably only for hardcore readers! Sometimes I think I share too much personal information here, but there are a few issues I want to address now that I’m wrapping up my time in Paris and this rather turbulent chapter of my life is coming to a close. Last September when I arrived in Paris I began to chronicle certain aspects of my life in a confessional way. This just sort of happened; it wasn’t by design. I don’t know how I’ll approach writing this blog in the future, because it evolves all the time. But I feel the need to finish what I started here vis-a-vis chronicling my life in Paris. I opened the door and before I leave this city, I want to write about what’s happened over the past few months and why I am packing up and leaving town rather quickly. As a writer, I don’t want to leave these questions unanswered because I would feel that I only wrote half the story. While no blogger writes about everything that happens in her or his life, I do feel that what I’ve shared here so far has been an honest reflection of what I’ve gone through and I hope in some ways it has helped to shatter the idea that life in Paris is a fantasy dreamworld. It’s not. No place on earth can ever be that.

As you know, I am leaving Paris in less than three weeks. Not only am I going back to London, but I’ll become a full-time student again straight away. [And I have some exciting news about school to share very soon!] My departure date from Paris was never set. I always assumed I’d leave in August or September. I originally planned to go back to school in the fall, so I simply needed to be back by the last week of September. But over the past month and a half, everything changed. I suddenly got clarity on many things.

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25 March, 2007 | 4 Comments

A few years ago, before I embarked on this expat adventure, I worked as a writer at Harvard University. The dean of the school where I worked decided one summer to have a staff retreat so we could get to know one other better. [Blah.] During the lunch break he asked us a question: If our home caught fire and we could only take one thing with us before escaping, what would it be?

I really hate these sorts of exercises. We were sitting in a circle and we had to go around and take turns answering this question. The answers were predictable – wedding photos, family heirlooms. Because of where I was sitting, I was the last person to speak. And I said that if my home caught fire, I’d let everything burn. I’d save nothing. Then I’d be free, I said, with nothing to tie me down.

My answer was greeted with silence for the most part. I think many people were horrified by what I’d said, though in the following days a few co-workers came up to me and said they had been thinking about my response.

That summer day at Harvard suddenly came back to me in January, at one of the lowest points in my life. I’m not entirely sure why I thought of it, but I realized that I’d gotten what I’d wanted in a roundabout way. By the time I left for London in September 2005, I had sold or given away almost everything I owned – car, furniture, books, CDs, pots, pans, clothes. I kept virtually nothing, save for a few boxes I put into storage near Cape Cod, in a building that was struck by lightning on the day I moved my stuff in. My home hadn’t caught fire, thank goodness, but I possessed virtually nothing all the same. And then I was free.

Well, not quite.

As the saying goes, be careful what you wish for. If I’ve learned anything since becoming an expat, especially over the past few months, it’s this:

You can get rid of your belongings and give up your home. You can say goodbye to your family and friends. You can leave your country behind.

But you can never escape from yourself.

25 March, 2007 | Comments are off

Lose an hour (bad). Regain my sanity (good).

24 March, 2007 | 4 Comments

Nothing says fashion like nooses and a hanging.

See my previous post on dead women chic.

[Via Alas, a blog. Click there for more info.]

23 March, 2007 | 10 Comments

I hope you like my new look! You know I’m obsessed with changing things. And I kept my previous blog design for nearly a year! (The photo header changed from London to Paris, but that’s it.) A year is a long time for me to stick with anything. Since I started this blog a year and a half ago, I’ve moved three times. (Well, moved two times and been forcibly removed once.) And I am currently packing for yet another move. So it was time for the blog to change too.

The fabulous Emily took my notes and brought my ideas to life. I’m not sure how she makes sense of my insane ramblings, but she does. (I’m sure you can just imagine what it’s like working with me on something like this!) I didn’t want a completely new look because I like my overall design scheme, but I felt it was time for a cleaner, more streamlined appearance.

With my old layout, you probably noticed I was very bad about updating the Word of the Day and Photo of the Day. It was a bit of a pain, to be honest. But now I have a little space over there where I can post anything – words of the day, photos, quotes, books I’m reading, recipes, grocery lists, vicious gossip about people in my blogroll. I won’t change it everyday – just when the mood strikes. Of course, those of you who subscribe to this blog via RSS will miss the excitement. And you’ll also miss all this lovely lavender. There’s a whole lotta lavender on this site now – white space has been banished! Lavender is soothing for the soul. Let it wash over you. Ahhhhhhh.

As if all this excitement isn’t enough, there is one more change that will be happening shortly. The Eiffel Tower photo will be replaced by my original photo of…Big Ben! Yes, that’s right. Three weeks from today brings the return of Big Ben. Mark your calendars.

[Yikes, three weeks from today? I’ve got sooooo much to do. Damn these international moves.]

22 March, 2007 | Comments are off

22 March, 2007 | 7 Comments

By Anglofille.

I’m going to share with you an old favorite. Without this gem of a dish, there are many days when yours truly might have gone hungry over the past few months. While this dish may be enjoyed by anyone, it is perfect for students, the culinary-challenged, lazy people and poor people. [If you're like me, you may in fact be a combination of all these things.]

Go to your local French supermarket, preferably FranPrix, and purchase a packet of Nouilles Orientales Saveur Poulet (Savory Chicken Oriental Noodles — also comes in beef and curry flavors).

Once at home in your kitchen, forget measuring cups, ingredients, aprons, etc. There’s no need. Drop the block of noodles into a pot of boiling water. Add the packet of dehydrated chicken-flavored powder. Boil for three minutes, stirring occasionally.

Eat.

These noodles can be enjoyed for breakfast, lunch or dinner [or possibly at all three meals during times of extreme poverty and/or laziness]. I can’t possibly convey to you how delicious they are. They taste better than meals I’ve eaten in French cafés (seriously) and at .34 centimes per packet, they are much cheaper.

21 March, 2007 | Comments are off

I met with my lawyer today in her office off the Champs-Elysées. [That makes me sound very important, doesn't it?] She is French, but she works for an American lawyer who has a firm here in Paris. I found him via the American Embassy and I chose his firm because he’s a member of the Paris bar…and the New York bar. And you know, my former landlady really deserves a big ol’ dose of New York-style whoop ass. And now that’s what she’s gonna get.

So the reason I am relaying this anecdote is this: I met with my lawyer in the firm’s fancy schmancy conference room this afternoon and on the wall there is a giant Andy Warhol-esque painting of…John Wayne, wearing a cowboy hat and holding a gun.

It was awesome.

You know, sometimes my life in Paris just makes me laugh.

21 March, 2007 | Comments are off

Yesterday I told someone to pardon my French. I meant it literally, of course, because my French leaves much to be desired. But still, I couldn’t help but laugh after I said it.

21 March, 2007 | 4 Comments

My dilemma of the week: To get bangs or not. I was looking at my British student visa photo in my passport and I had bangs then! I had forgotten about that. As you can see from this severely cropped photo, my bangs have grown out all the way and are no longer even bangs:

I like to let the strands of hair just sort of hang in long wisps. But now I’ve been considering giving them the chop. Decisions, decisions. What’s really stopping me is the fact that the woman who cuts my hair here doesn’t speak a word of English, so this could really be disastrous. She would most likely misinterpret my instructions. Not only does she not speak English, but she is convinced I am from Texas, no matter how many times I try to correct her. I don’t understand her fixation with Texas, but I fear her vision of the place has been shaped by Hollywood. As such, I could very well depart the salon with a giant bouffant hairdo. Shiver.

19 March, 2007 | 2 Comments

Go to Google and type in “French Military Victories,” then hit “I’m Feeling Lucky.” This is what comes up:

19 March, 2007 | 3 Comments

I purchased my Eurostar ticket for London today, but I’m not leaving on May 1st. I’m heading back on April 13th…Friday the 13th! A few opportunities presented themselves to me and I need to leave earlier. All very exciting. I realize that although I’ve discussed the fact that I’m going back to London earlier than expected, I never explained why. And there are reasons — good ones. But it’s a long story (you were expecting a short one?) and so I will post about it later in the week.

It was very weird to leave the travel agency this afternoon with that ticket in my hand. Everything is final now. Fini. And what this means is that I need to arrange for all those damn boxes to be shipped back to London. Sigh. I’m tempted to pay someone to pick up the boxes from storage and dump them in a landfill. Seriously.

In other news, the lovely spring weather we had is gone and it is positively arctic. Spring starts in a few days, but you’d never guess.

And in other other totally unrelated news, this blog will be getting a slight redesign sometime this week. Nothing major — just a few nips and tucks. Stay tuned!

18 March, 2007 | 3 Comments

Over the past few weeks I have received not one, but two boxes of loot from the States. My dear friend William said he would send me anything I wanted from home. Here is what I asked for:

Lucky Charms, Fritos, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and lots o’ trash magazines. I hope you didn’t think that just because I live in Paris I am sophisticated and have refined tastes!

As if all that loot wasn’t enough, there was even more stuff in these boxes, including lotion, a journal, tea, brownies and cookies — more specifically: snickerdoodles! I bet I’m the only person in Paris with snickerdoodles.

And it seems I’m really on a roll. My sister is coming over here next week and I’ve already got her suitcase loaded with stuff, including books and DVDs, plus a giant bottle of Motrin IB. I am in desperate need of American-style ibuprofen. By “American-style” I mean a giant bottle filled with about 9,000 tablets, not the wussy little cardboard box of 20 pills they sell here, which they keep behind the counter at the pharmacy as if it’s deadly poison. Oh – and she’s also bringing Easter candy. It’s the least she can do after what happened last year.

My excitement over all of these items is rather pathetic, eh? You’d think that I live in Siberia. Well, there are days…

16 March, 2007 | Comments are off

16 March, 2007 | 3 Comments

As I mentioned once before, I now have to go through legal channels to get back the deposit and guarantie I paid to the first incredibly dishonest apartment owner I rented from here in Paris. This should not be confused with the second incredibly dishonest apartment owner I rented from. You see, many people here suffer from a serious disease. It’s called — Screw-Over-Foreigners-itis. I hear it’s rather painful, but given the prevalence of this condition, it can be treated with readily available over-the-counter drugs.

So I was speaking to the owner of the agency I rented the first apartment from. He is a complete sniveling weasel. He is like a cartoon version of a haughty French person, except he’s 100 percent real. I told him about my desire to sue this first apartment owner not only for my money, but also for slander, emotional distress and harassment. He exclaimed into the phone:

“Mademoiselle, this is not USA! You cannot sue people for all these things!”

Lucky for him, ‘cuz he’s next.