Busy, Busy... But Slowing Down

The last couple of weeks have been a bit hectic, although gradually I've been slowing down and my body has been telling me that I just can't do as much as I would like... Whereas two weeks ago I was running around town and my boyfriend kept telling me that I was overdoing it, these days I can hardly get out the door. Or, let's just say that it's been that way since yesterday morning in particular... Thank goodness my boyfriend managed to finally get his hands on the car he's buying used from his sister, so we now officially have wheels and a way to get to the clinic when the time comes; plus, we also made a trip up to Le Havre on Tuesday and finally got our hands on a few things that his sister left for us, including a transat, a carseat for the first few months, and a couffin, which was the key thing we really needed -- especially since we still haven't decided on a crib yet!

I got to visit with some of my dearest friends over the past few weeks as well, although I haven't managed to see as many people as I would have liked -- I still have a list of buddies who I was hoping to see before the baby arrives! Please know that I'm thinking of you all... But it looks like that just isn't going to happen... Especially since things seem to have taken a "turn" of some kind since my doctor's appointment yesterday morning. After she, ahem, examined me in that way that is beyond uncomfortable at the end of the pregnancy (I have no idea how else to describe it!) she actually said, "Ah, ça y est, j'y suis arrivée..." I couldn't figure out what she meant, so I asked her, and she just said that she had managed to touch the baby's head, and that the Little Bean is in the right position at this point, although still a bit high -- not yet down very low... But since then, it feels like the baby may have lowered a bit, because I've been feeling a lot more pressure down there since the appointment -- plus, for hours after that, I felt particularly weak and strange. She told me to continue walking, so I trekked down from the Place de Clichy to Galeries Lafayette to get myself a nice towel to take to the clinic with me. The shops had all just opened, and it's extremely rare that I find myself in the department stores when there are so few people -- very nice for a change! But as I paid for my bathtowel, on sale thank goodness, the saleslady looked at me and asked me if I was OK; granted, I was feeling exhausted all of a sudden, so I accepted her offer to sit down for a rest before leaving... A short time later, I headed out and met my boyfriend for lunch in the 17th, near Pont Cardinet. Then I went back home... and rested pretty much for the rest of the day.

So this morning I believe I may have lost the mucous plug (sorry to be so graphic!). My understanding is that this isn't necessarily a sign of an imminent delivery, per se, because it can happen a couple days before the arrival of the baby, but it's usually a sign that something is going on! And in any case, ever since I woke up this morning, I still don't feel like my regular self. I'm not exactly having contractions, although I think I had a few last night before going to bed, but I still feel really weak and wonky. I want to scrub the kitchen floor, but at the same time all I want to do is lay back down on the bed. My boyfriend said he's going to help me out with things, and he has been particularly sweet for the last few days, but I feel like I'm somehow losing control here... Plus, I had hoped to get out today to buy another breastfeeding bra, as the one I've been wearing just feels too tight and like it doesn't have enough room in it. I guess I'm just going to have to make do with it until after the delivery, though, as I don't think I have the energy to make the trip on my own.

Basically, I do believe that the Little Bean's arrival is imminent... My doctor told me to come in to the clinic for a monitoring on Monday afternoon with my sage-femme, and if the conditions are all in order, they may plan to induce me on Wednesday... That is, if I haven't given birth by then! My OB told me she thought it might happen this weekend or on Monday, so I guess at this point it's all just a big waiting game.

I only have one tiny request: please cross your fingers for me that it doesn't start happening tomorrow night, as my boyfriend is working all night long...! So that basically means that I need for things to happen today, tomorrow morning or on Monday. Anyone want to make any bets?!

(But of course I know one can't determine these things in advance, unless of course I am induced!)

Ah, the waiting game... It's definitely not fun.

By the way...

Yep, it's me -- I know, I know, I've been MIA once again, and I realize there's no use in my listing off all my excuses... I was pretty much suffering from the longest-extended-and-excrutiatingly-miserably cold-flu-virus thingie in the history of time, and it totally zapped my energy, my motivation and any level of creativity. Add to that the actual WORK I've had to do in my day job for a change, and I wonder how I'm ever able to fit in time for personal e-mails and catching up on all my favorite blogs -- forgive me if I've gotten behind in my commenting as well...

But I did want to squeeze in a much-belated mention of the fact that I passed the one-year mark of blogging sometime last month -- okay, now that's actually more than a month, so shoot me! -- and I can hardly believe that so much time has gone by so quickly. It feels like yesterday that several of my favorite blogging divas twisted my arm and talked me into starting this here blog, and although I still have aspirations of improving it, adding in a more personalized banner one of these days, posting more often and possibly increasing my traffic, I also know that I'll probably never be as "hard-core" about blogging as so many of my favorite bloggers really are -- perhaps this all stems from the fact that I've had a hard time keeping a personal journal or diary all my life, or perhaps it's just my laziness kicking in. Who knows?! In any case, I'm grateful to the wonderful friends I've made in this here blogosphere, and I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for being out there, for supporting me, for stopping by, for commenting -- for just being YOU!

And on that note, I realized that I also hadn't even taken a moment to thank so many of you for your warm, encouraging words regarding my pregnancy and the months ahead. I really appreciate all the nice things you had to say in response to my "Year of Promise" post, and all the lovely things you've said to me since then as well, either by e-mail, via the blog, or in person. As a matter of fact, I was lucky enough to see some of my blogging friends once again this past Friday night at Petite Anglaise's book launch party, and I was so happy to have the chance to catch up with so many of you! I think I may have almost forgotten I was pregnant that night, because the time got away from me and before I knew it it was after midnight, and I was running down to the métro like Cinderella after leaving her glass slipper on the stairs of the palace. Luckily I ran into King Negrito and his lovely friends on the way, and they shared a taxi with me to Châtelet, where I managed to catch the RER and make my way home just in the nick of time! I had a great time, although obviously without the champagne that was flowing so freely (Petite and friends kept my glass filled with some grapefruit juice most of the evening), and made sure to have a taste of as many of Meg's delish canapés as possible. After all, I was STARVING! Go figure.

Anyway, the only photographic evidence of me at the party is, as usual, atrocious -- why is it that I simply never seem to take a good photo?! Cameras are just NOT my friends. In spite of Frog's friendly efforts to make me feel otherwise -- and trust me, your sweet words sure did make me feel much better, Frog! And it should also come as no surprise that I completely forgot to pull out my own digital camera to take some pics for the blog. Oh well! Again, nothing new there. I simply don't have the instinct for these kinds of things, I guess.

All in all the weekend was a whirlwind of busy-ness... Between the party Friday night, my participation in a children's writing workshop on Saturday afternoon, and a trip up to Le Havre and back on Sunday, it was pretty much non-stop. But in a nice way for a change... Here's hoping I'm really starting to feel the "second wind" of my pregnancy and am moving into a good place in my second trimester! Now all I need is some true spring weather here in Paris and a real change of seasons so I can pack away all of that winter blues and put it behind me... (And I don't count those few days of teasing warm weather in February -- I think that's the kind of thing that gets us all sick anyway!)

Literary Lines on Page 123: A Meme

The eminently readable and highly entertaining (and informative!) Polly over at Polly-Vous Français tagged me for a fun meme that only took a few moments of thought to put into action -- now this was something I could handle, for once! I'm not the most frequent blog-poster, as I'm fully aware, but I have this ridiculous habit of overthinking everything before "putting it out there". At least with this one I could go with my gut -- and with what was waiting patiently for my attention on my bedside table!

Without hesitation, I picked up the first book on the top of the pile -- and trust me, that pile is mounting by the days, weeks and months, and is threatening to topple over at any moment -- and turned to page 123, as Polly instructed. I was meant to read the first five sentences, and then share the following three sentences here with you on the blog.

For some quick background on my book choice, and the reason behind its placement on my to-be-read pile, some of you may know that I very recently attended Tatiana de Rosnay's reading from her book Sarah's Key at the Village Voice on February 7th. The evening was emotionally intense and intellectually stimulating at the same time, and it included a highly successful reading and subsequent discussion. There was a crowd of fans of both her French and English editions of the book, and after reading an excerpt in English, Tatiana's translator also read a bit from the French edition. Some of you may also already know that Tatiana has several blogs, one of which is her English-language blog, Fig Tree Franglais, on which she writes about recent experiences, musings and reflections, her travels, progress on her upcoming novel -- plus much more! Sarah's Key has been getting excellent reviews and has now been translated into 20 languages (if i'm not mistaken) -- and counting! I've been wanting to read it ever since I first read about it for the first time on Maîtresse's blog a few months ago. That's when I first discovered Tatiana's blog as well. Sarah's Key has a blog of its own, where you can read much more about the novel, updates on latest editions, press reviews, etc. And now I finally have a copy of my own, and a signed copy at that! Tatiana is just as lovely in person as on her blog, and I'm so pleased to have had an opportunity to meet her.

So, without further ado, feast your eyes on a few (the 6th, 7th and 8th!) lines from page 123:

"I leaned forward over the table.

'If I gave you an exact address, could you help me trace a family? A family that was arrested in Paris on 16 July 1942?'"

That was quite a hook there, wasn't it? I know I can't wait to read it... And if I can only make it through to the end of Atonement (whose page 123, coincidentally, I just read this morning -- another good one!), Sarah's Key will be my next long-anticipated novel to be read!

And just because, like Polly, I couldn't resist, I decided to share three lines from page 123 of the next novel in my pile, Nancy Huston's Lignes de faille, for my French-loving readers (which, incidentally, I have in the Babel livre de poche edition, and in fact the three requisite lines continue on the top of page 124 -- I love Actes sud's Babel collection and the highly "aerated" pages, but it's intriguing to note how few sentences fit on one page! And also to note the difference in authors' sentence length at this stage in the book...):

"Je mange mes corn-flakes le plus lentement possible parce que maman m'a interdit de quitter la table : 'On n'est pas chez nous, alors il faut être sage comme une image aujourd'hui, d'accord?' Mon regard volette de-ci de-là, j'ai l'impression d'être enfermé dans une espèce de maison de poupée. Partout où je pose les yeux : meubles et bibelots, coussins et napperons brodés, bols en cristal taillé, statuettes, photos et tableaux encadrés sur les murs couverts de papier peint à fleurs, chaque centimètre carré est occupé et décoré et je voudrais être une tortue Ninja pour donner des coups de pied de poing de bras à droite à gauche et m'en aller de là, vlan ! bing ! bang ! bong ! - ou, mieux encore, Superman : il suffit de lever le bras et on est propulsé dans les airs comme une fusée, le toit se déchire et on fonce à grande vitesse vers le ciel bleu limpide."

And now it's my turn to do some tagging: oh, let's see, who might be up for this? Tatiana, if you happen to stop by and have a moment, I'd love to know what you're going to be reading next. And let's also hear from Meredith at Poppy Fields, La Page Française, and my literary inspiration, Maîtresse!

Event-Filled Week(s)

Sometimes these days I can't seem to keep up with things, but then there are other times, in the middle of the day, when I feel like I'm not doing nearly enough -- the irony of our time, I guess... I know that as the holidays approach time is only going to fly by faster, and the end of the month always hits me before I even realize it, with a pile of holidays cards still sitting on my desk patiently waiting to be stamped and sent. This year I'm determined to at least send out my cards to the U.S. by the 15th, holding onto my French cartes de voeux until the New Year -- one of the advantages of the French holiday traditions being that cards are sent in the New Year, and that custom holds that you have until the end of the month of January to get them out to one and all. Of course, in the past I've taken full advantage of this extended deadline, sending out some of my American cards down to the wire (using the French system as an excuse!), but I'd like to improve my card-sending skills, and avoid this procrastination that I appear to have ingrained in me.

Last week I unexpectedly attended several events that turned out to be wonderful experiences, ones I will not soon forget, and I have to admit that it is nice to have these kinds of appointments on my calendar at this time of year, when I'm inclined to get a bit of the cafard if I spend too much time at home alone. The curse of all expats, I guess! On Monday I crossed the Seine for a book-signing at Shakespeare & Co. -- Jeanette Winterson read from her latest book, The Stone Gods, and I couldn't resist picking up several books from her backlist as well, for myself and a few friends. I only just discovered her writing, I have to admit, thanks to dear Lauren, of course, who is my favorite source of wonderful literary (and cultural) inspiration these days. I'm looking forward to plunging into her writing over the holidays, when I'll have some time off from the daily grind and will be able to (finally!) throw myself into a few good novels. For some reason recently I've been having a really hard time reading for pleasure, a pastime that I've always taken for granted. I don't know if it's just the distractions of every day life or other preoccupations that are taking up too much space in my mind, but in any case I'm impatient to dive back into a good book again. I've also been disappointed by a few recent reads, and I have to admit that I count on a good book to pull me in fairly quickly in order to stick it out until the end... Perhaps I'm a bit too impatient and demanding, but I've reached a point now where I've decided that there are simply too many books waiting on my bedside table to be read, and I'm not about to waste my reading time forcing myself to enjoy a book that just doesn't do it for me. Basta -- life is simply too short, and I'm no longer reading out of obligation after all! Although sometimes I wonder if I may have missed my calling...

Winterson's reading was spectacular, by the way -- she was so dramatic and passionate when reading from her text, and she even went so far as to say that she practices a bit beforehand, that it's the least she can do, given the fact that we go out of our way to come to see her read. She really got into it, and climbed up on the table in the back of the shop so that we could all have a clear view of her throughout the reading. When I had her sign my books afterwards, I even picked up a copy of her children's book, The King of Capri, illustrated by Jane Ray -- when I saw it sitting there, tantalizingly, on the table, I knew I had to add it to my growing collection of children's books at home. It's a lovely fairy tale, with all the best elements: gorgeous, colorful illustrations, a story with a moral, and some appealing characters, including a little Italian cat.

Thursday night I was lucky enough to attend an excellent SCBWI France event held at the home of one of the organization's members in the 17th, where Uri Shulevitz spoke about his work for more than two hours (!!). He answered questions and went into great detail about his inspiration, his favorite forms of media when illustrating, his influences and even his most current work, which is to be published in early 2008. I was fascinated and couldn't help taking notes during the discussion, and I left the event feeling uplifted and inspired, convinced that I will soon apply my own inspiration to some drawings once again, and hopefully soon. Mr. Shulevitz's talk focused on the "invisible picture" in a drawing, as he called it, or the empty spaces in between two objects that ties them together, that unify a drawing and bring it to life. He emphasized that the "third picture" inside of a drawing is one that in fact you cannot necessarily see but that is only visible in your mind and is therefore stimulated by the story itself. In that sense, he explained, the meaning of a series of pictures in a story is often beyond the story itself and is made up of the elements that are underlying the story. The bigger picture, in fact, "needs to be fed by what's underneath."

Another point Mr. Shulevitz made during his talk that stayed with me is the importance of making a moment as specific as possible in a picture book in order to make the story itself more universal -- hence, a universal story can be made more personal and even more appealing. I was thrilled to be able to purchase a copy of one of his most famous books, Snow, which won the Caldecott Honor in 1999 and is magical in its use of spare text with enchanting, evocative and incredibly detailed watercolor images. All in all, I had a really wonderful evening, and thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the event, including the delicious meal, the captivating presentation and discussion, and, of course, the company!

Tonight I'm off to attend another book-signing, once again at Shakespeare & Co., so I can pick up a few more copies of Clotilde's wonderful first cookbook. I already have a copy of my own, of course, that I got back in the spring when it was first published (fairly stained and a bit beat-up around the edges!), but I'd like to bring one home to my mom for Christmas, and possibly another for one of my closest friends in the States as well. Here's hoping I can get to the bookshop early enough for a good seat, and that I'll be able to get my hot little hands on several copies of her book! It's always a pleasure to hear Clotilde speak about her cooking and her writing, and her success is such an inspiration. This is one extremely multi-talented, warm, engaging and creative gal -- I have to admit that her blog is responsible for my motivation to finally get cracking in the kitchen. So I know this evening is going to be a particularly memorable event as well! I can hardly wait...

Now HERE'S a Nice Way to Cheer Me Up...

He had me at "Lunch?" Talk about reading my mind... And raising my wilted spirits, boosting my morale -- all that jazz... The way to a woman's heart is apparently through her stomach as well, at least in my case anyway!

When the phone rang at my desk around 12:30, I picked it up expectantly, recognizing my boyfriend's cell phone number on the raised screen. Perfect timing. It was so nice to hear from him, and even though most of our calls and exchanges throughout the day are completely mundane and inconsequential, this one bode well: he wanted to know if I would like to join him for lunch. After a dentist's appointment in the morning, he had decided to stay in the city a bit longer before taking his time getting back to our apartment in the western suburbs. He had a day off for once, a rarity, and it felt like a real luxury for us to share this time together. We hardly ever go to lunch together, as our lunch hours never coincide and I have to take the métro or bus to get to him anyway, but this time was an exception. Plus, most days I bring some leftovers from home, easier to warm up in our office kitchen and enjoy quietly with a book or with a few colleagues (plus, far more economical, of course!).

We felt like naughty schoolchildren -- or at least I did... When he suggested the brasserie, I couldn't help but say, "Is that really reasonable?" I knew it was exceptional, but it still felt forbidden somehow... But really, how often do we do this? We've been trying to pay attention to our budget, but some days just call for a treat. Today was definitely one of them. After grumbling into work this morning, fighting the crowds at St. Lazare along with hundreds of thousands of other commuters, I definitely needed something to cheer me up. Le Diplomate fit the bill, as it has a couple other times in the past (I'll never forget the time the waitress managed to save me a slice of rapidly-disappearing strawberry tart -- she will forever remain a favorite in my heart! And she still remembers it too...).

We first shared a foie gras aux figues -- heavenly! Really excellent, the best foie gras I've had in a long time. And then on to a fricassée de faisan avec jardinière de légumes... We enjoyed the meal with a glass of red wine, St. Emilion for me and St. Amour for him (I only opted out of the St. Amour because it was served chilled; I just don't like cool red wine! Otherwise, the romantic name is tempting, trust me. OK, you can call me cheesy, I don't care!). And then we shared a fondant au chocolat for dessert. So we managed to make the meal a bit more reasonable by sharing both the entrée and dessert. Still, it was far more expensive than anything we'd usually spend, with a hefty pricetag. But the meal was a nice moment of calm and happiness in the middle of an otherwise hectic period for me right now. So I honestly don't regret one second of it... On the contrary, it brought a broad smile to my face, and put me on a high that I'm sure will last...

At least until I make it back to the Gare St. Lazare to fight my way to the train back home tonight!

** On a sidenote, I managed to get a train around 7:00 last night, and even snagged a seat, which was darn near miraculous... But the only little bémol (I love this expression!) was that as I maneuvered my way down the train's stairs to get off at my station 20 minutes later, I only then realized that I had forgotten my umbrella under my seat (what was I thinking?!). Argh, another umbrella shot to the wind! But it's not as if it was one that I had attached any sentimental value to... I picked it up at Target in the U.S. last year, but it was super-practical in my bag and easy to use. What made me smile once again was when my boyfriend said, "Just think that someone who probably really needed that umbrella figured it was their lucky day." Isn't that a nice way to look at things?!

Reflections on Friendship

I met a friend last Thursday evening for a drink after work, at a table in a café on the Place Pereire, and we squeezed in so much in just under an hour and a half... I could have stayed chatting much longer, as I wasn't in a hurry that night, but she had to get home to meet her husband. I'm always in awe of how much we have to catch up on when we get together, but then again, I think the last time we met for drinks was in March -- believe it or not! The time just flies, and I'm constantly reminded of when my parents used to say things like that when I was a kid -- how much faster time seems to go by as an adult. This fact has become more and more vivid for me in the past year or so. In a sense, I don't feel my age at all -- I'm dumbfounded by the fact that I am, in fact, in my early 30s -- I feel much younger in my head and in my heart. And then at other times, for example after a long day, when all I want to do is return home and rest, do simple, homebody-type things, I can't help thinking that I'm acting much older than I should, or that my interests and hobbies revolve around older types of things -- like cooking and hanging out at home! A bit ridiculous, I know, but I've realized more and more that I'm just not cut out for the partying scene -- I guess I never have been, but for years I would try to blend in and make myself enjoy things that just weren't my cup of tea. Now I'm realizing that of course there's no shame in that, and I might as well revel in the things I love, no matter what the rest of the world may think.

But the last two weeks or so my calendar has been packed with more "social occasions" than usual, and trust me, I'm not complaining -- I love catching up with friends, having something to look forward to during my long days at work. It's what keeps me going -- isn't that the case for a lot of us? I guess not everyone, because some of you lucky dogs out there actually have jobs and professions that you enjoy, but I just haven't found that niche yet, unfortunately. At least I can say that I'm in a country I love, in spite of all its flaws and frustrations, and that I have a lot of wonderful people in my life who make the long days worth getting past. That's something, isn't it? That and knowing that there is some potential out there for future endeavors, future possibilities -- I just have to keep my mind, my eyes and all the doors open.

But when the social outings pile up, and I have a heck of a time figuring out how to squeeze it all in, that's when I feel like my head is going to explode. And I don't even have kids! I know how hard it must be for folks like Jenn to find a balance for herself and her family. And here I am having a hard time just fitting in enough time for my boy and me. This week is jam-packed with fun, but I also have to be sure to fit in some time doing those necessary things around the apartment, like cooking, cleaning and laundry. Obviously life -- and living! -- are much more important, but then again you certainly want to feel good about the home you're returning to at the end of the day. Such a juggle!

When my friend Sarah and I got together last week, we found ourselves reminiscing about the time we met back in the States, in the late '90s, when I was working for a French company as a marketing assistant. She was an au pair hoping to improve her English and we were both spending time at the Alliance Française in Washington, DC (I didn't want to lose my French, so I was serving wine and cheese, and she wanted to meet fellow French-speakers living in the area). One day one of the guys I was working with at the time saw a photo of us together, and he said, eyes blazing, "I have got to meet her!" I was stunned by his adamance, but I eventually complied, knowing full well that he wouldn't leave me alone until I did... Their first meeting didn't lead to many sparks -- at least I didn't think so! -- but about a week later I received a call in my car, and Sarah told me that they were officially a couple. They had really hit it off, both loving to swing dance and sharing so many of the same interests. It was unexpected, but I was of course thrilled for them.

Fast-forward eight years later, and they are now married and living in la région parisienne. We lost touch there for a while -- life and all that -- but then caught up again about a year and a half ago, and since then Sarah and I have tried to get together to have drinks from time to time. Again, we always have a million things to talk about, and this time around was no exception. In fact, I felt like we were really on the same wavelength in so many ways, and a lot of what she said to me really reassured me about my current fears and concerns, regarding life and the future in general. It's funny how we so often see so many wonderful things in other people, how much we admire and appreciate their qualities, and then in fact they tell us that they see those same things in us. Of course it's a good feeling, but it's also kind of unsettling...

Well, before I head off in some kind of random philosophical direction, let's just say that I'm hoping we can make our evening drink sessions more regular, and not so few and far between. I love the conversations we have, the memories we share, and the thoughts and feelings that get stirred up in these simple moments of friendship.

It's funny, because I've always thought that my memories, of either my childhood or even of more recent years, were never very vivid, but when I actually think long and hard about things, specific images and precise moments really do come to mind. One of them is a party that I attended with Sarah on a July 4th weekend years ago, by the Chesapeake Bay, when a wonderful Australian friend of mine was in town for a few days. We studied together in a program at the Sorbonne for a semester, and he was one of the brightest spots in those months of study. He recently e-mailed me on "our" birthday (we share exactly the same birthdate, both day and year!) to share some pics of his son. There was the whisper of possibility, of something more happening between us several times over the years, but it wasn't meant to be... When he came to visit me in the U.S., he was living in London at the time and I was in the early stages of a relationship. Today he is married with a baby boy, and here I am back in France. I remember the dress I wore that sweltering July night, the strap that snapped when we were dancing, the fact that we had stayed in touch in spite of the distance between us. I really hope I can continue to do the same as time continues to fly by, remembering each other when we can, and catching up whenever life makes it possible.

A Very French Moment of Inattention

Last night I ended up staying out again after work, sharing a couple margaritas with a new friend in a nifty Mexican bar in the Marais neighborhood, followed by a couple platefuls of nachos and quesadillas. Haven't had food like that in ages! So it was well worth it, albeit completely unexpected. I had already been out the night before, 'til all hours, cavorting with several gal friends at the Burlesque Revue hosted by Gentry Lane, where I also met some other much more well-known Paris bloggers. But my intention after work yesterday was to touch base on some volunteer work I'm going to be doing for a children's book writer and illustrator organization (SCBWI France) in the coming months. I'm trying to tackle some of this work right now, and I'm just a bit nervous about the whole gig, because I don't want to let anyone down and I want to do a good job -- I just hope I'm going to be able to focus and buckle down when the time comes. But this is the kind of organization I've been wanting to get involved with for a while, so it can only be a good thing, right? Right. I just hope I'm not biting off more than I can chew...

Ahem, so the meeting was set up to touch base with a couple other gals involved in the process, and I was just meant to meet them and chat for a bit. But as they were super-busy and up to their gills in work, they didn't have time to talk logistics. So we decided to save that for another time in the near future, and my friend and I headed out to find a nearby bar to unwind after our respective long days at work (her hopping around town on a Velib' from one assignment to another, me chained to my desk...). A drink turned into a couple drinks, like I said above, and then some nibbles, which resulted in a full-fledged meal. So I didn't make it to the métro station 'til after 10:00. Not a problem under any normal circumstances, but I was really starting to feel the fatigue. I took my normal route home, with a correspondance at Charles-de-Gaulle Etoile for the RER train... And found, once again -- for the second time in less than two weeks -- that the interconnexion at Nanterre-Préfecture was down as some construction work is going on at the Nanterre-Université station. Basically this means that I'm in commuter hell, because I have to turn back around on my tracks and trudge on over to the other side of the station, take the train back in the other direction, make my way over to the Gare St. Lazare, and then take an SNCF suburb train home. Which is just fine and dandy -- when I'm not WIPED OUT and READY TO CRAWL INTO BED. I know, I know: after all, I'm the one who chose to go out, so you're not going to feel sorry for me. But this was the last thing I needed...

So after taking the alternate route back through the train system, as I finally approached St. Lazare on foot from nearby métro Havre-Caumartin, I found myself half-asleep and somewhat distracted by the bright street lamps. My attention was momentarily diverted by the Printemps department store windows, and as I swung my head to the right in that split second, I made the huge mistake of not watching where I was going -- I became a walking hypocrite! Because, in fact, this is a crime that I have found Parisians guilty of on more than one occasion, and it drives me off my rocker... And there I was, becoming the perfect example of what I can't stand. That's right: in that split second, I rammed into a poor unsuspecting woman walking in the opposite direction. Now, I say "poor, unsuspecting" because I feel for her -- I honestly felt bad for my moment of distraction! I felt terrible... But her response shocked me even more: before I could even mumble out an apology or an explanation, she had screeched "Il faut regarder où vous allez... ou changer de lunettes !!!" And when I say screeched, I seriously mean she put a lot of volume into those two lines. I was flummoxed, and it all happened so fast, I didn't even get a chance to respond. Now, again, I know I was in the wrong -- I was perfectly ready to recognize it -- but I honestly thought that this was just a wee bit uncalled-for... Over-react much?! I didn't even get a good look at the lady, but let's just say that she walked so quickly out of my line of vision that I can only assume she was about three feet tall...

When commuting, I go out of my way to follow Paris protocol: I step off the trains to allow other passengers to get off, even when it's not yet my stop, and I do my best to be respectful of others' space. I walk quickly, but I don't push (this is particularly grating, when people shove up behind you to get off at a station). I stand when the trains are crowded, allowing the strapontins to flip back up and free up some more space. But of course I'm not perfect, and every once in a while I find myself guilty of a commuting transgression. But this was totally unlike me -- and again, it was probably a result of my long day.

In any case, in that moment I realized how much I'm becoming more and more "French". Yes, my friends, say what you will, the French are well-known for walking quickly in one direction and looking in another at the same time. I've observed this phenomenon in more than one train station over the years, as well as on the streets, so the fact that I committed this cardinal sin makes me feel even worse. I've also been complaining more and more, a sign of the one of the French culture's favorite pastimes: râler.

But oh well, you never know what the end of an evening will bring you... It didn't tarnish my soirée, not entirely, but I was too tired at that point to dwell on it. I honestly believe that fatigue played a role in my distraction as well, so I'm trying not to feel too bad about it. After all, I'm sure that that particular dame didn't even give the incident a second thought...

On a Tori High

All day yesterday I was up on a Tori cloud, and I'm just about coming down today, although I'm still not fully recovered from the intense experience on Saturday night... It's true what Kyliemac said: no matter where you are in the performance hall, Tori's feeling resonates and her passion reaches out to you and sucks you in, in spite of yourself... I do wish that our seats had been a bit closer (you always want things to be better, right?!) but it really didn't have an effect on the musical experience itself. I just would have loved to have been able to feel like I could reach out and touch her, or at least watch her fingers fly over those keys, up close and personal. It's absolutely amazing what she can do... And her energy -- only one real "break" early on in the concert, and then a few short breaks near the end (before her first and second encore), but otherwise she performed for more than two hours straight, and it was non-stop magic! There is no other word for it.

So as I gradually come down from my cloud, I've been surfing the Net and reading pieces on her new album release, as well as watching interviews and performances on YouTube. It's funny how a concert like that can make you thirsty for more information, for more of the experience. I totally agree that American Doll Posse really packs a punch and is a huge contrast to her last album, The Beekeeper. I wouldn't say I was necessarily disappointed with that album, but it didn't really stay with me the way this one already seems to have done. I've been listening to the Posse for two weeks straight now, and I'm not yet tired of it! On the contrary, more and more of the songs are growing on me. I've even established my favorite "character" (Clyde) among the five personalities she created to represent each song. At first I thought I might find her inclusion of so many songs on one album a bit overdone, as Télérama claimed (although overall they still give the album a positive review), but now I believe I disagree: each one has its value and each and every one has its own particular feel and place on the album.

I wanted to post the video above from YouTube because I thought it was fascinating to see the behind-the-scenes work on the costumes and set-up for the album cover art. I got a kick out of this one...: it's an interview on the UK program Loose Women, from April 19th, which is fairly entertaining, and followed by a performance of two songs.



I'm glad Tori touched upon almost all of her albums during the concert, although it was surprising that she didn't perform any pieces from Scarlet's Walk. I imagine it all must depend on her mood and the location, as well as what strikes her fancy at the time. Of course, there may be many more things that come into play when deciding on a set list, but I think she did an excellent job of keeping us on the edge of our seats, and I waited with baited breath from one song to the next to hear what she would put out there. And of course, being the complete nerd that I am, I couldn't stop myself from keeping the rhythm right there in my seat. Why oh why don't the French get more into concerts, by the way? I have to admit I haven't been to live concerts that often here in Paris (I did mention that I was a bit of a homebody, didn't I?!), but I would have thought people would be up on their feet, singing and dancing along -- alas, this was not the case... Perhaps because the songs are in English? If someone can enlighten me...

Tori really must have been in a Pele mood, as Lauren and Kyliemac both pointed out, because she ended up performing four songs from that album, as well as an interlude "playing" of Professional Widow while she was taking her break. It was great to hear some of her lesser-known pieces as well, including Siren -- I love that song, but couldn't place where I had heard it before... Of course, Lauren saved the day for me once again by letting me know it was from the Great Expectations soundtrack. Now I seriously want to get my hands on that! (Anyone want to loan me a copy? Pretty-please?!)

I also finally pulled out my copy of Piece by Piece, the joint autobiography Tori wrote with Ann Powers two years ago, which I picked up back then but still haven't gotten around to reading. I believe now may be the time...

P.S. ~ I just wanted to add an extra little note here at the end to thank all the gals for a great evening out; the concert was unforgettable, and I'm so glad we were able to work out the details and make it happen! Long live Tori-mania...

A Weekend of Good (Comfort) Food

I wanted to write a little about the foods I enjoyed, not this past weekend -- at least, not yet -- but some wonderful bits and bobs that I savored about two months ago, just before my boy ended up in the hospital (long story, for another time) and things went a little topsy-turvy in my life. (This post has found itself in rough versions several times and I thought I would never finish it!) I'm actually nibbling on one of my terrible péchés mignons right now, something I tend to crave from time to time, and a treat that I never seem to be able to stop myself from indulging in: saucisson sec. So as I sit here guiltily chomping down on my saucisson and salted butter on toast, I thought I would share some wonderful comfort foods I prepared a few months back, foods that cheered me up on a lousy, cold, grey weekend -- and how à propos that today, in late May, it is once again cold and grey -- and rainy! Ah, Paris...

Of course, as we all know, "comfort food" comes in all shapes and forms, and I don't even know how exactly you can define it, but apparently someone has on Wikipedia:

Comfort food
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

"The term comfort food refers to any food or drink to which one habitually turns for temporary respite, security, or special reward. The reasons that something becomes a comfort food are diverse but include the food's familiarity, simplicity, and/or pleasant associations. Small children often seem to latch on to a specific food or drink (in a way similar to a security blanket) and will repeatedly request it in high stress situations. Adults, however, are certainly not exempt.
A substantial majority of comfort foods are composed largely of simple or complex carbohydrate, such as sugar, rice, refined wheat, and so on. It has been postulated that such foods induce an opiate-like effect in the brain, which may account for their soothing nature."

I guess this is not so much a definition of what comfort food is exactly but what the expression refers to, and how certain foods with assocations become a form of comfort to us. What comes to mind for me is my mom's macaroni and cheese, how it's perfect every time and just somehow so reassuring, no matter what time of year it is (God, I miss that stuff!). More recently, comfort foods have taken on a whole new meaning to me, especially since I started cooking. I don't know what I would have done without this cookbook over the past two winters in France; it has become my kitchen bible, and I guess it helps that I'm a big fan of soups, both hot and cold. And what's more comforting than soup? I'm always curious to try new combinations and experiment with different ingredients, probably also due to the fact that I used to buy a lot of my lunchtime homemade soups at a little sandwicherie at métro stop 4 septembre in Paris, a place called Stanie's run by a young couple who used to work in advertising and decided to start a business of their own (I no longer work in their neighborhood, so I don't get to eat there as often, and I sure miss it...). I could never get enough of Rebecca's homemade soups, whether it was lentil with coconut in the dead of winter or cold, rich avocado soup with a splash of lemon juice in the summer (that stuff was to die for, trust me, and I've never been able to replicate it, to this day; I seriously licked the bowl...). I don't tend to experiment much in the kitchen at all, as I'm not yet confident enough to do so. But I do like to add in a bit more of this or that when I'm making a new soup. I'm a big fan of carrot soup with coconut milk and fresh cilantro (pretty Thai-inspired, I guess), and just two weeks ago I made a variation of the cold avocado soup with cucumber and tomato juice ice cubes (it was quite intriguing, I promise...) based on a recipe in this magazine. But the book Soupes du jour is SO easy to follow, it's a no-brainer; you simply can't screw any of these recipes up!

This late March afternoon found me preparing a batch of rich, heavy lentil soup (page 26). In my mind there is nothing quite so nourishing, or comforting, as lentil soup, especially paired with some refreshing cilantro leaves. Since I discovered it, as soon as the weather turns grey and cold outside I throw some together to keep me warm on the inside. The fresh green cilantro brightens up what might not look so appetizing at first, but once you spoon some of this into your mouth, you won't regret it! And it's the simplest thing to make; you just have to be patient enough to allow the green lentils to simmer away for about an hour. I do tend to use the lentilles vertes du Puy, even though they are a bit more expensive, if only because the flavor seems to be richer and the lentils themselves seem to hold up better over time.

That same weekend I also made one of my best apple crumbles in a while. Ironically enough, when I was growing up I wasn't a big fan of anything apple-based, especially baked apples, apple pie, or anything of the like. I can't quite explain why; it just didn't do anything for me... But you know how our tastes change with time (as Aussie Lass has also recently reminded us over in her digs)! I wish I had a nickel (or a Euro for that matter) for every time I've realized that I actually like something I used to insist I didn't like in the past... The list could go on forever -- and I'd be pretty rich!

I used my favorite salted butter (I'm partial to Grand Fermage's Butter with sea salt from Noirmoutier) and added in a pinch of cinnamon and ginger. This baby didn't last long at all! Talk about warm comfort... Add some crème anglaise or vanilla ice cream, and we have a winner.

In between my own time spent in the kitchen, my boy and I also went back to one of my very favorite neighborhood haunts in the 18th arrondissement, a tiny family-run restaurant that became my cantine for almost two years. I even celebrated my 30th birthday there: it's called Le Potager. I don't often get the opportunity to go back these days, now that I'm out in the 'burbs, but anytime I'm craving a nice, reasonably-priced meal, I make a reservation. And anytime I have friends coming into town, I always recommend a stop there. As a matter of fact, when Emily was in town about two weeks ago with her friend Dawn, we met up at métro Abbesses and enjoyed a nice, filling dinner. Every time I go, I absolutely cannot pass up their oeuf cocotte au foie gras; it's to die for! One of my all-time favorite entrées...

I can't get enough of it, and I find myself scraping out the bottom of that ramequin to make the pleasure last. I imagine it must be easy to prepare at home, and it's certainly not made with the finest of foie gras, but the combination of flavors is deliciously rich -- and comforting! There's hardly enough room for a main dish after that, but you're talking to a real gourmande here, so there's no way I'm going to pass up more food! I also highly recommend their magret de canard, served with either a honey, blackberry or fig (my fave) sauce. And they have these wonderful main dishes that consist of various tartine combinations, including a melted goat cheese with cumin. The names of these tartines are all a play on words, like "la Mère Veille" or "la Mère Cedes".

For such a tiny establishment, they have a real following, and it's almost impossible to get a table à l'improviste. That's why I try to reserve either the day before or the same day, earlier in the evening. But if you're going to be passing through Montmartre in the near future, give it a try! I'm pretty sure you won't be disappointed...

* Comfort Foods image courtesy of smileandactnice.com.

* Tori Ticket * - TAKEN!

As some of you may already know, Kyliemac and friend, Maîtresse, JennC and I are all prepping outselves for the concert of the year on June 2nd at the Palais des Congrès, and we just so happen to have an EXTRA TICKET available... So do we have any takers?

Join us for an unforgettable gals' night out with Tori -- come on now, you know you want to!

If you're interested, feel feel to e-mail me or Kyliemac ASAP; first come first serve...

UPDATE: As of something like 15 minutes ago, the ticket has officially been snagged. So the group is complete!

Busy but Bluesy

While I'm sure everybody and their mother (brother?) will be talking about the French election results today (surprised, anyone?), I just wanna ramble a bit about my busy weekend for once. Well, moderately busy anyway, for a regular ol' casanière like me.

[And I know I should be updating this bloggie thingie more often -- please bear with me, as I'm trying to get into the swing of the blogger world, and I'm often hesitant to write about something that may bore you all to tears... But I'm working on this!]

I tend to look forward to event-filled weekends, but then the activities and outings quickly come and go, and I only have the long week ahead to dread. Like a kid again, I count down the days to when I can sleep in and really enjoy the time spent under the warm comforter, in bed, or lounging around the apartment with a good book.

Of course, thank goodness, with France and the French system, we have another national holiday (and I realize we have our American and European ancestors to thank for this one too...) tomorrow, so that breaks things up a bit this week. After my three late nights in a row this past weekend, I really need another sleep-in!

Friday night saw me joining a good French friend of mine for her 30th birthday celebration in a posh little Italian restaurant in the 8th arrondissement, not far from my work address, to be honest (but not exactly a typical haunt for me -- I felt a wee bit out of place...). But rather than stay in the neighborhood after I got off at 6:00 and make good use of my time, I got it into my head that I absolutely had to go home first to change, to harangue my boyfriend a bit, and then turn around and head back into the city for the party around 9:00. Again, I'm full of brilliant ideas like that! So of course after taking the RER home I found myself frantically running around the apartment, trying to do things that were completely unnecessary at the time (will I ever change?) while my boy reminded me that time was ticking by... And in the end all I really did was change into a pair of jeans, which was the one smart move, as it had started to rain and my bare legs would have frozen if I hadn't changed out of my steel grey skirt into something more sensible.

And I had a great time, in spite of the fact that I didn't know most of the people there, but the meal was nice and I was glad to finally catch up with my friend a bit (even if it wasn't easy with all those people there -- what were they thinking?!). With any luck we're going to try to get together again really soon anyway, so we'll be able to catch up on more serious things, like when and how she got back together with her (former ex-) boyfriend!

After dragging myself out of bed on Saturday to make my regular tour of the local market, I managed to do a bit of housecleaning, albeit not enough (when is it ever enough?!), and then later in the afternoon my boy and I left to meet some friends to see Spiderman 3 on the Champs. Not where we would normally go to see a flick, but we all had Gaumont movie cards, and it was just the most convenient meeting point. We were both looking forward to this movie, not the least for the entertainment and distraction factors, just a break away from our everyday life. And it definitely delivered! We ended the evening with some nice Lebanese cuisine nearby (it's not easy to find a reasonably-priced restaurant in that neighborhood, trust me, so we gave up on it...), although I've definitely had better Lebanese before. But it was the perfect no-frills evening out.

And Sunday was of course filled with the suspense leading up to the election results, even if most people claimed to already know who was going to win... Still, unexpected things can happen, and even though that wasn't the case this time around, I still wouldn't have been surprised if there had been a last-minute breakthrough, if you see what I mean. We had a light dinner with some friends in Saint-Cloud while everyone watched the results and subsequent commentary. I had had enough after only an hour or so, but we of course had to zap back and forth between all the major French news channels so as not to miss any details. I was hoping that things would calm down once the election was over, but I get the impression that it's only the beginning, if the articles in the press today are any indication, and that things are going to be boiling for weeks to come, particularly with the imminent legislative elections, which will determine whether Sarkozy will even be able to carry out any reform in the near future. And of course everyone is saying that his first "100 days" in office will be critical to his presidency as a whole. I don't know what to expect at this point, but I can only hope that he will stick to his promises as much as possible and at least make a concerted effort to bring about positive change for France, a country in desperate need of reform. I've been on the fence the whole time myself, so I honestly don't know how I feel about the results.

I also managed to squeeze in some cooking yesterday afternoon, as I wanted to at least have some pre-prepared small meals ready for my lunch-hour at work. So I took another stab at the zucchini crumble I made two weeks ago -- and I have to say, I think this recipe is going to become a regular staple around here... Inexpensive, really quite easy, and a delicious way to eat zucchini! For those who are interested, it basically requires about 4 zucchini, one onion, one shallot, some fresh basil leaves (or frozen if you don't have any on hand-- I buy mine at the market!), salt & pepper of course, olive oil, about 60-80 grams of parmesan (preferably freshly grated), 80 grams of butter (I used salted butter) and 120 grams of flour. After thinly slicing the onion and shallot, you toss them into a skillet with heated olive oil, and then gradually add in the thinly sliced zucchini as well. (To vary things, sometimes I slice the zucchini into small cubes.) In the meantime, you try to remember to turn the oven on to pre-heat at 180° Celsius (I'm afraid I'm unsure of the Fahrenheit equivalent at this point!).

After allowing the zucchini, onion and shallot to mingle together and simmer covered for 5 to 10 minutes, you can remove them from the heat, mix in the fresh basil (also diced thinly) and parmesan, as well as a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Then you prepare the crumble part, which is easier to do if the butter itself is already at room temperature, blending together with the flour between your fingers. I get a kick out of this part, running my fingers through the mixture until it's just the right texture. Finally, you scoop the warm vegetable mix into a gratin dish and spread the crumble mix over the top, and slip the dish into the oven for 25-30 minutes. I end the baking time with 5 minutes under the grill so the crumble is a bit crunchy and nicely toasted on top. But you might have to keep a close eye on your oven, depending on how finicky it is (mine is completely unpredictable!). And voilà, a yummy veggie dish that I'm sure any zucchini lovers will enjoy... And all you veggie-haters out there might even give it a chance!

So that was my weekend in a nutshell... And the reason why I say it was "bluesy" in spite of all the busy-ness is simply the fact that I couldn't seem to settle my mind, with all the thoughts and emotions whirling around about the uncertainties in our (my boyfriend's and my) future... We have a certain number of decisions to make, and I'm just feeling completely overwhelmed by the weight of it all. I'm hoping and praying that somehow things will come together for the best on their own, but then again I've learned the hard way that no decision comes without some trial and error, and also that it's not all going to magically happen on its own, without some hand-wringing and struggle on our part. I guess we're probably going to have to take some risks, while it's still possible, and believe in what the future holds for us. I know I'm being a bit vague again, but let's just say that we're realizing more and more how important good health and peace of mind is, much more so than the price of sacrificing yourself for people who don't appreciate your work and efforts... And not getting much out of the deal in the long run either.

Here's hoping that we'll have more and more "busy-ness" ahead, but without the blues...

A Priceless, Un-Charmed Life

I wish I could say that I had a really exciting and educational issue to share with everyone here today, but -- well, heck, I guess that's not what my blog is all about anyway... No use putting any unneeded stress or pressure on myself, setting up my own expectations with regard to what I write here. Because I've never claimed to be a talented writer or even someone who could express herself particularly well, aside from having the capacity to be pretty self-deprecating and tongue-in-cheeck from time to time, when push comes to shove (and I think I owe that to my brother and his great sense of humor -- thanks, buddy!). Although that tends to come across better in person than in my writing -- maybe certain other blog-sistahs out there who have made my actual aquaintance could attest to this one for me... I can be a funny gal if you give me a chance! Really, I can! I just don't know how to convey that in writing.

I think I've been spending a lot of time reading so many other gifted bloggers out there, really admiring their ways with words and images, and their simple yet evocative expressions, their fonts of resourceful information, and this has sort of made me feel a little inadequate. Of course, to be honest, that's nothing new for me... Although I know I'm not completely inept, I'm not particularly good at anything, aside from speaking some decent French. And how far does that really get one, huh? Across the ocean and into another country, yeah; loving the people and the culture there, sure -- but I need to join that skill with something else worthwhile, otherwise it's not gonna get me much anywhere... And I've definitely got to stop comparing myself and pretty much setting up my own roadblocks to personal progress.

Anyhoo, I just felt the need -- or more appropriately the desire -- to share a few tidbits about my own little life here in France in recent days, if only to give a glimpse into the ordinariness of my own existence and to share how very closely it really resembles many others' around the world -- whether in North America, other parts of Western Europe, or even Asia... As much as I do love living in France -- and I can't even exactly express why that is; I just somehow feel at home here (I've often joked that it's because I lived here in a former lifetime, hung out with Chopin and his entourage of great artist/musician friends, but that's another story for another time) -- there is no real "romance" in my daily existence, and I'm far from living a charmed life. Then again, I wouldn't trade what I currently have in the way of friendships, interests, and love for anything at the moment -- there may be many aspects of my life that need some work, but one thing is for sure, and that is that my life is not lacking in "personal" richness, if ya see what I mean. Nor is it lacking in upside-down bumps in the road, for that matter. No, it's hardly boring.

Last night I joined my boyfriend, his father, his youngest sister and her little boy for dinner in an impossibly ordinary bistro/brasserie in the 15th arrondissement of Paris, supposedly specializing in seafood. Except their fixed-price menu only included one seafood selection, and the waiter appeared to be out of those little wipies you use to clean your fingers after eating oysters, shrimp, other crustaceans, etc... Ah, that's right, les rince-doigts. [How can a seafood restaurant run out of those things, pray tell?! And at the same time not refill the soap in their bathroom soap dispensers?!]

In any case, the whole evening was pretty much unplanned and fairly improvised, mainly due to the fact that his sister's visit coincided with his father's stop through town, and it just made sense that we all get together and spend a nice evening out. Ergo, the randomly chosen restaurant. Which, again, was beside the point, because we were just there to spend time together. So I'm not going to critique the exquisitely boring cuisine, because again, it's of no particular interest... The best parts of the evening basically came in the form of my boyfriend's 3-year-old nephew, who God bless him, was exhausted, along with his mother, from a long train ride in to the capital from Besançon, a town four hours or so southeast of Paris. He looked around him saucer-eyed at all the people and things he was not used to seeing, freshly picked from the countryside. (My boy said that in the métro on his way to the restaurant he said hello to everyone in the hallways...) He made it patiently through an interminably long meal, munching away at all sorts of things the whole time. He's not one of those picky types; here's a three-year-old who likes to pretty much try anything, and who his grandfather fondly refers to (to his mother's chagrin) as Bennie-bouffe-tout, which quite literally means "the boy who'll gobble up anything."

Before our orders were even taken, little Bennie had nibbled on some bread with some strangely bitter olive spread (not exactly tapenade) on it that I couldn't even get my tastebuds around. And after making his way through his own plate of grilled salmon (no steak haché for this little 'un!), his fork crept onto my plate of steak tartare, curiously fumbling around for a mouthful of potatoes. He did say that the tartare meat was a bit spicy ("ça pique!"), but only after I commented to his mother that he didn't seem to mind the stinging aftertaste. We shared some potatoes together at that point, as I cut him some manageable slices and slid them onto his plate... I actually had to stop sharing food with him, because he would have willingly eaten pretty much everything in sight! Needless to say, when dessert time rolled around, he called out to the waiter, "Messeur, du gateau sh'il-vous-plaît,"* and he gratefully munched on several bites before finally calling it quits. He could have eaten me under the table -- and that's saying something! Thank goodness he helped me with my potatoes...

But the highlight of the evening, for me anyway, was when I tried to teach Bennie what "elegant" meant -- how he should try to be polite and dignified in a restaurant setting, and not call out or make too much noise while waiting for his food... (and there was a lot of waiting going on). He turned to me and tried to repeat "elegant" (which is exactly the same word in French as in English, just pronounced differently) with his little nose all scrunched up, and then he looked up at his mom and said, "Maman, chuis un petit garçon éléphant."**

* = "Sir, some cake please!"

** = "Mommy, I'm a little boy elephant."

P.S. ~ Whenever Bennie comes to visit, upon arriving he immediately insists on my singing his "favorite" song -- which he discovered last summer when we were on holiday together -- "Old MacDonald had a farm..." And he nods up and down, fascinated, while I go through the whole rendition, including authentic pig and cow sounds. And right as I finish the final verse, it's "encore!" and I have to start all over again. One of these days I'm gonna have to teach him some REAL English... I even had to sing him this song while waiting for dessert last night. (Try to picture that one!)

Epouse-moi !

I was so caught up in the stressful events of my Sunday, I completely forgot to mention that I had a truly memorable Friday evening. And because the soirée was entirely unexpected, and spontaneous to boot, it made things even more unforgettable. Ok, that's perhaps a very grand way of putting it, but I have to admit that I don't actually go out all that often (shhhh, we'll let that be our little secret!). Because I am, after all, a homebody at heart -- or as the French so lovingly put it, a pantouflarde... "Pantoufle" literally meaning slipper -- er, I think you get the picture. Let's just say that I'm not one of those expats that is constantly keeping on top of the Paris nightlife or the next-big-thing going on. Then again, I'm certainly not against a great evening out either.

So when I have the opportunity to go to the theater, I jump at the chance! In this case, it was not your regular ol' run-of-the-mill pièce, but a highly entertaining musical comedy, reminiscent of an off-Broadway show. 'Course, I'm certainly not a specialist of the genre, and I wouldn't dare claim to be one, but I enjoyed every minute of this show, from beginning to end. From the opening triple-bride number to the ending embrace, I was entranced. The musical themes were spot-on, in my humble opinion, and on more than one occasion I just wanted to jump up and sing along!

Check out their website and you'll learn a little bit more about the actors, the director, the choreographer, the composer, the main characters and the storyline of course -- plus you'll see just how much work they've invested in this little gem. Truly, if you have the opportunity, pop on up to the Place de Clichy and enjoy a really nice evening out. What's even better is that the creative director and writers have created a whole wedding theme around the show, and as you're exiting the theater you can leave a message with your impressions in the livre d'or, or you can join the actors and participants down the street at a local bar sponsoring the play for the "wedding reception"!

Take time out to see it, and let me know what you think if you do...