22 May, 2008 | 1 Comment

more soon! once i’ve recovered…

30 April, 2008 | 6 Comments

My court case is officially over — finally! The Paris Bar wired the money into my bank account, representing 100% of the judgment awarded to me by the court in February. This includes the original deposit, plus damages and legal fees. The last piece of the puzzle was getting the evil landlady to officially give up her right to appeal in writing, which I’m pleased to say she did this week. So that’s it. Case closed.

I didn’t think it would end this way. I thought there’d be more drama. At first she threatened to appeal the verdict and then attempted to essentially blackmail me into accepting a lesser amount. I thought I was in for another long fight, with more stress and even more money spent. But for reasons I’ll never understand, the landlady suddenly gave up and paid me everything. It’s a real mystery. Now this whole ugly business is finished. At last.

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4 March, 2008 | 2 Comments

sunset in the tuileries

It’s been more than a week since I’ve posted anything! How very strange. I had such a marvelous time in Paris — and more importantly, a very productive time creatively — that since I’ve been back I’ve been reading a lot and working on my novel and haven’t had time for much else (besides the teaching). I’ve been feeling a bit happier and it’s always harder for me to blog when I feel happy. I was also too lazy to go through all the photos I had taken (which is a ton of work) and I can’t do a travel post without photos. But now I finally have my act together.

My trip to Paris was last-minute, but I went because I had this feeling in my gut that I needed to get away. I just felt in my bones that I’d benefit from three days away from work, home and my daily routine, where I could be alone and empty my mind of the banal, instead just focusing on art and writing and beauty. I felt this was what I needed, but as I left on the Eurostar I wasn’t entirely convinced anything positive would happen in Paris. After all, I had been creatively dead for two months, since before Christmas. In January and February I often go into a funk. It’s not something I can control — it’s a chemical reaction to the lack of sunshine. I’ve always been susceptible to this, but I’ve noticed it’s been worse since moving to London, where the winter days are much shorter than what I’ve experienced before. Before next winter rolls around, I must take steps to minimize the effect of this.

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26 February, 2008 | 17 Comments

I had a magical time in Paris - simply magical! The trip far exceeded all expectations. I’m working on my novel again (thank GOD!!!). There was actual sunshine and warmth all weekend, which was intoxicating (see photo above — with more to come!). But I will wait to write about all of this because I have some GOOD NEWS to share. Yesterday while I was in Paris my lawyer called to tell me that…

I WON MY COURT CASE!!! And I won it big, baby!

This was the perfect ending to my lovely weekend. The judge ordered the evil landlady to return the deposit and guarantie she has illegally withheld for more than a year. And there’s more! I was awarded 1200€ for my legal fees. And the icing on the cake…1000€ in damages for abusive treatment! I was stunned. My lawyer was stunned too, actually. She said that in France, it is not common to receive damages in a civil case. Even though lawyers ask for them, they are rarely awarded as they are in the U.S. courts. She also said that if there is an awarding of legal fees, it will usually cover barely half the legal expenses, whereas in my case, I have been awarded more than I’ve actually spent (at least so far). I never expected such a big victory and my lawyer was just so pleased with herself and kept saying, “You really deserve this ruling!”

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29 November, 2007 | Comments

The Paris suburbs may be alight and the country paralyzed by strikes, but my lawsuit lives on in the French courts! Today my lawyer emailed me to let me know my case has been postponed until January. Then she sent me the evidence my landlady’s lawyer has submitted, which includes a charge that I threw away her electricity bill. Gasp! Oh dear, I hope they don’t have capital punishment in France. For the love of God and all that is holy, you’d think we were prepping for a murder trial!!!

I wonder — on a French death certificate, is “death by paperwork” an option? It must be — right under “suicide.”

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9 November, 2007 | Comments

I will be a French lawyer.

The owner of the apartment rental agency finally sent an affidavit to my lawyer in which he explained all of his evidence. Did I tell you I was persuasive? In Hebrew, my name means “argumentative.” (Seriously.)

I’ve spent hours this week contacting people about submitting affidavits to the court for me. I did not realize before that Americans could submit affidavits for me and that their testimony can be translated into French. Some of my friends from home actually have evidence that can help me. I’ve also had to write to people I knew in Paris and to at least one of them I had to write a long letter in French, which is taxing. My French isn’t great; however, my legal French is getting good.

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6 November, 2007 | 3 Comments

Just an update on the French legal drama. My case was supposed to be pleaded today before the Tribunal d’Instance in Paris. As expected, my landlady’s lawyer submitted her documents to the court at the close of business yesterday. Unbelievable. My lawyer got a postponement this morning.

My landlady’s lawyer wants the case moved to a different jurisdiction, which is apparently what a lawyer does when she has no evidence. My lawyer will not fight this because we have the law on our side and we want to speed this process up. They also claim I owe them money for all sorts of things. They say I didn’t give 30 days notice (I have proof that I did) and they claim I owe taxes on the apartment. Normally renters have to pay tax, but this was not part of my agreement with the landlady, as outlined in the contract. She left it out of the contract because, unbeknownst to me at the time, she is committing tax fraud against the French government. Of course, the only person with evidence of this is that slimeball who owns the rental agency. So now I must get the affidavit from him. I also need to get affidavits from French friends who can testify to the personal emotional distress I suffered because of my landlady’s actions. That shouldn’t be hard. While I’m at it, maybe I can get the therapist I had to see in Paris as a result of all this crap to write a sworn affidavit too.

My lawyer, meanwhile, suddenly seems quite excited about all of this. She wrote to me in an email: “After what [your landlady's lawyer] did yesterday, the fight has really begun and I am ready to face it.” Well, you go girl. I wish I were that fired up, but I really just wanted this to be over today. That was my heartfelt wish.

2 November, 2007 | 8 Comments

I’m not a gal who is afraid to speak her mind. People irritate me quite often, but I handle it pretty well. I am not a screamer. I don’t like yelling. While I do get mad, I don’t often find myself in the midst of a blinding rage. It’s simply not my style.

However.

When it comes to certain peoples of the French nation, sometimes I just lose it. I shout. I become filled with rage. I make threats. I say nasty, vicious things. It’s scary, actually, to see this side of myself emerge. While living in France for just eight months, I got into heated arguments with at least three people I had business dealings with. In the whole five years I lived in NYC, this never happened. Getting upset like this is an ugly, almost repulsive feeling, but what can I say? I was provoked. Thank the Lord Jesus that when I was living in France, I never had access to a firearm.

I realize France is a Latin country and I am an Anglo-Saxon. Perhaps I shouldn’t let these encounters bother me, perhaps it’s just the way things are done, but I don’t handle this sort of thing very well. Anyway, I am telling you this little story for a reason. Today, once again, I felt the rage.

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23 October, 2007 | 1 Comment

Some macarons I bought in Paris at Ladurée. I only had to wait in the queue for over half an hour (no joke). I prefer the pink rose-flavored ones. The black ones, called réglisse (a very mild licorice flavor) are also quite good. Hell, they’re all good. This was not my only Ladurée stop. I also went to the tearoom in the Madeleine shop and had a rose-flavored réligieuse with some orange-blossom tea. That, my friends, is the life.

16 October, 2007 | 4 Comments

“Paris is a bitch, but I love her anyway.”

An Englishwoman who once lived in Paris shared this little saying with me the other day. We were chatting about how Paris is magical and wondrous, yet sometimes living there can be a complete nightmare. In her view, it’s a nightmare “at least 50 percent of the time.” But when you experience the fabulous parts of Paris, it’s like a dream. In Paris, all of your senses are aroused and you can walk the streets and feel as if your feet have never touched the ground. There’s no place like it in the world.

This feeling is so intoxicating that many foreigner visitors vow to move there permanently. This is an understandable but nevertheless misguided notion for the vast majority of Paris lovers. The spell that Paris casts is best experienced in small, dream-like doses. That is its power. Strolls along the Seine, reading in the gardens, the abundance of art and architecture, decadent treats in cozy cafés — this is the postcard Paris that bewitches so many of us, that draws us back again and again. But one cannot live in a postcard, so to settle in Paris over the long haul means experiencing a different side of it, one that is sometimes difficult for dreamers and romantics to handle. The real world will eventually intrude.

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13 September, 2007 | 9 Comments

My lawsuit against my French landlady is finally taking off. It’s taken a while to get going, not because my lawyer was dragging her feet but because I was. I just didn’t want to deal with this. I didn’t want any more drama. I also fear the French courts will rule against me because I’m American or because of some ridiculous French legal technicality. I still think this could happen, but I’m moving ahead with the lawsuit anyway. Did I mention that the weasel who runs the apartment rental agency forwarded my lawyer a whole list of people this landlady has previously screwed over?

My lawyer just sent me a draft copy of the complaint for my approval. It’s all in French, but I understood it. [I've noticed recently how much my French has improved!] I was literally stunned to read the complaint she drafted, particularly this:

Le préjudice subi par la demanderesse, directement imputable à la mauvaise foi de la propriétaire qui a apparemment voulu profiter de la situation d’infériorité dans laquelle se trouvait Mademoiselle [Anglofille], étudiante étrangère, doit être réparé à hauteur de 5.000€.

This essentially states that I suffered damage at the hands of the apartment owner, who acted in bad faith because she wanted to take advantage of my inferior status as a foreign student. The apartment owner must make up for this…in the amount of 5,000 euros! This is equal to $7,000/£3,500.

Throughout the complaint, my lawyer refers to the abusive treatment I suffered and explains that this directly contributed to my having to leave Paris earlier than expected. In addition to the 5,000€ and the return of my deposit and guarantie, she is also asking for more money in accordance with some French civil code. I have no idea what this means, but the upshot is that I am suing this witch for nearly $13,000/£6,500. When I read this, I was filled with glee. I know I’ll be lucky just to get the deposit and guarantie back, but on principle I really appreciate what my lawyer is doing. And I bet the landlady will have a heart attack when she reads this. Good. Maybe she’ll die!

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12 April, 2007 | 5 Comments

I’m leaving early in the morning…but there’s always time for one more sunset.

And what a sunset it was. The perfect ending.

Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

Au revoir, Paris. Vous aurez toujours un endroit à mon coeur…

xx

11 April, 2007 | 9 Comments

I’ve just been kissed by about five different Frenchmen. That’s one thing I’ll miss about France — kisses from strange men. Lots of ‘em.

I went down to my landlord’s apartment and his son was having a dinner party — I was there to borrow the vacuum, which made me feel like Cinderella. One of the gents that kissed me was intent on making me try his beer, which he said is full of vitamin D and good for me. I don’t drink beer. He said I have no chance of making it in London. It’s tough, I told him, but I try. Then they tried to get me to eat some cheese and some sausage. I can’t eat either of those things. It’s times like these when my absolute freakishness becomes blindingly obvious. Sigh.

My landlord’s son (hello if you’re reading this!) was wearing a t-shirt that had a cartoon drawing of Bush with a gun to his head. The text said: Save the World, Kill Yourself. Then at the bottom it said: One finger away from happiness.

What a day.

So I’m pretty much done packing. Yes, it happened. My sincere apologies, in advance, to the taxi driver who will take me to Paris Nord and to his or her English counterpart who will pick me up at Waterloo. We should all take a moment and pray that they survive their encounter with me and my baggage.

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9 April, 2007 | 3 Comments

Suitcase removed from closet. Packing underway. Meltdown Alert: Elevated

6 April, 2007 | 2 Comments

Every time I go out now and walk the streets of Paris, I experience that wistful feeling that comes with the knowledge I’m about to leave this place. I feel the longing, the yearning, for what I’m about to lose. It’s intense. And the thing is, I take pleasure in longing and yearning, perhaps because this state of being is the opposite of contentedness. I’m not very good at being content, but I’m working on it…

Despite this, I am thrilled to bits that London is calling so quickly. I can’t wait to get back for so many different reasons. In some ways, I want to hop on the Eurostar right now and get out of here. I’m not sure what to make of all these conflicting emotions, but I’ll just ride them out.

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4 April, 2007 | 9 Comments

Warning: This post is long. And there are tons of photos of food. After putting this together, I think I may need another month off…

I have eaten soooo much over the past week, as you are about to see. My sister and her friend were visiting. They love French desserts and so do I. There were a few pâtisseries I wanted to try before moving, but I waited for them to experience my I’m-leaving-Paris-soon pastry blow-out 2007. Most people like yummy desserts and treats, but this sort of experience needs to be shared with real enthusiasts, those who can bite into a religieuse from Ladurée and react as if they’ve just been injected with some sort of illegal street drug.

We didn’t just eat pastries, though these formed the basis of our diet. Green vegetables? Not so much. Fruit? Not unless it was under a dollop of whipped cream, thank you very much. Actual nutrition wasn’t important. We wanted to get high, baby. Sugar high.

I already wrote about our breakfast at Ladurée. Here’s a sampling of what else we ate…

L’Ombre de Notre Dame [The Shadow of Notre Dame]

The apartment they rented was literally right next door to the place that makes the best crêpes I’ve ever tasted. Last autumn I walked by here on my way home from the Sorbonne and would frequently stop for a crêpe with Nutella. As the name implies, it’s right across the street from Notre Dame on rue du Cloître Notre-Dame. This was the first time I had tried their other food and it was wonderful. Most French cafés and brasseries have the same exact menu (steak and fries, chicken and fries, omelette and fries, sandwiches). And the quality of these dishes varies greatly from café to café, so once you find a good one you stick with it. We ate lunch there on their first day (and returned for dinner a few days later). I had a tuna sandwich, but my sister had what the French call a hot dog (more like a real sausage):

And J. had French oignon soup:

They were a bit horrified by my choice of drink, an Evian Menthe. A French friend got me hooked on these — mint syrup and ice in a glass:

Which you then mix with bottled water:

Yum. My sister thought it tasted like cough syrup.

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3 April, 2007 | 6 Comments

My sister and her friend rented an apartment for their stay in Paris. Behold the umbrella stand inside their temporary Parisian home:

Notice anything strange?

You know, given my experiences of Paris apartment owners, I don’t recommend allowing tenants access to a firearm.

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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