I don't remember when it happened. I just remember being surprised at how real and perplexing my feelings were. How could it be that just when Gui and I start to get serious and down-to-business about our plans to move back to Texas, I begin to have emotional attachment issues with my current home? I suppose it was crazy for me to never consider that I'd be sad about leaving Paris; that I'd miss the place and people; that I'd be nostalgic about our impending departure. Well, I am.

Although nothing is set in stone, yet, there is a very real possibility that I could be employed before heading back from our upcoming Texas vacation, meaning that our far-flung plans to live back in Austin could be a reality before the year is over. We've started the paperwork for Gui's green card, and despite what we've read on websites and forums, the lovely lady at the consulate told us that we could have the answer to our petition in just a few months (given that we do and provide everything that we're asked to). 'Gotta hand it to us Americans for our efficiency.

Still, as the possibility of leaving Paris looms over me, I find myself feeling overwhelmingly conflicted about my sentimental feelings. This is not going to be as easy of a step to take as I had presumed, and that makes me both surprised and concerned. What if we're not making the right decision to move back now? What if we fall on our faces? What if I get there and realize I want to be back in Paris? Well, I don't really know the answers to any of these questions, but I suppose I'll never know without giving it a shot, right?

I hate to admit it, but I went outside yesterday for the first time since Monday. Gui's mom was coming over for dinner and I knew I would be getting everything ready from about noon because I'm kind of neurotic like that. Leaving the apartment was like coming outside after being swathed in a cocoon for a few days, curious but unsure of what the world would be like now. It reminded me of that movie, I Am Legend, when Will Smith has to stay in hiding all night long until the sun comes back up. Locking the door of the apartment, I felt hopeful that I'd be greeted by warm temps and flip-flop-wearing pedestrians. But, I wasn't. The first guy I ran into was wearing one of those Russian-style fur hats with ear flaps and an ankle-length coat. My hands immediately began to freeze, but I shoved them in my pocket, put my head down and trudged along to Franprix. It was about 10 degrees colder in the store, and my hands went completely numb as I tried to get everything on my list. Neither asparagus nor strawberries were available (madness!), so I had to come up with a new side and dessert dish for the evening. I settled on a salad and moelleux au chocolat (small molten lava cakes).

Everything managed to fall into place for the evening, and I think I'm getting better at hosting dinner. In the past, I always felt a bit of pressure to serve things the "French way," but I'm loosening up a bit more and realizing it's fine to be different. We broke in some new Mikasa glassware we got for Christmas, and dined well on roasted chicken, salade composée, gratin savoyarde, and a nice red wine. I decided that I really enjoy dinners like this - at a dinner table and with proper dinnerware - as Gui and I tend to be more casual when we're getting our grub on (read: eating on a serving tray in front of the TV).

While I was preparing the gravy, Gui let his mom know that we're seriously considering moving to Austin in a year or so. It's something we discussed during our last trip and we've been talking about it since. I'd always known that we'd move back to the States someday, but it was a surprise to hear Gui tell me he'd like to move there soon - like in a year. Of course, I'm ecstatic about the idea, but there's still loads of stuff to work out before we make any concrete plans. It's difficult for me to think about Gui leaving his family and friends because I know how hard it's been for me. Despite his overwhelming reassurances, I still feel like he'd really miss his home, and I don't want him to have any regrets or disappointments once we leave. I could tell his mom was sad when he mentioned it, a little surprised and slightly disappointed. It's hard not to feel like I'm taking her baby away from her.

But, we have a lot of time to work everything out and make some final decisions. These past couple of weeks, though, I've really enjoyed being back in Paris. Sure, Winter in Paris blows, but I've still managed to stay light-hearted and optimistic even through the dreariest days. I know that Spring and Summer are around the corner, and despite having been properly seduced by the charm of my hometown, I'll admit that I'm a little worried that Paris might win me over yet.

I'm simply overjoyed at the news that a friend from home is going to be moving to the Paris area in less than three weeks! We had just started getting to know each other before I made my way over at the end of last year and again in June when Gui and I visited, but we've kept in touch through blogs and emails as she's continued working towards getting her visa to be an au pair in Paris. She got news a couple of days ago that she'll be arriving on September 7th, which is just insanely soon! Unlike the first time I packed my bags and headed to France, this will be her first time travelling outside of the US - ever!

Walking to the marché this morning, I started thinking of how I felt the first time I traveled across the world and what thoughts and emotions were running through my mind. My first trip outside of the States was to Trinidad and Tobago (yeah, that was awesome), and then I took a trip to England before making the big move to Nottingham for a few months. I was young, so carefree, so wide-eyed. My summer in Rome was the first time I'd been in a non-English-speaking country, and being in a school setting, having friends and knowing people in the same situation as myself was, I think, what made communication so easy and kept me distracted from my nerves or self-inflicting complexes about speaking another language.

Having lived in and around Paris for a total of about seven months, I can say that many of my initial ideas about this city have changed, but not all for the worse. Reading blog, after blog, after blog of people who've been here and done everything I've done has undoubtedly made the transition so much easier. I thank the blog gods for giving people a place to rant and rave about their woes and joys so that we might all learn from them and feel just a little more normal when our lives begin to unfold like a comic book.

So, in an effort to offer my Paris-bound friend some advice about what to bring, what to leave behind and what to expect, here are a few odd things that cross my mind about my move here.

• I desperately wish I would have bought more shave gel on our last trip to TX. I seriously can't bring myself to pay 5 euros for a can of Gillette shave gel when I know I can get the same for less than half the price on the other side of the world. Some things are just too hard to let go of.
• I'm cursing myself for thinking that I'd somehow expect my mom to go through the bags and boxes of clothes that I've left behind in order to pick out what I might need for the winter time so that she could send it to me. I should have been more organized and made more of an effort to gather and label my things for easy reference and shipment to France instead of pawning it all off on my poor mom. Now, I'm left with a very boring and monochromatic wardrobe that's getting old really quickly and will no way last me through the crazy winter we're bound to have. (I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I find a job so I can do some guilt-free shopping at the winter soldes.)
• Flats are my best friends here. I wish I had the insight to buy more flats before coming (even those cheapy Target ones) because one really can't have enough with these crazy cobblestone sidewalks popping up all over the place. If I could, I'd buy a new pair everyday, but we all know that's not possible!
  
• And, by flats, I don't mean tennis shoes. I brought four pairs of "trainers" or "tennis shoes" with me here, - and I don't mean the New Balance track & field kind, but the cute brown and gold Coach tennis, sporty Pumas, and stylish Diesels - and I've found nothing says not à la mode more than a girl in sport shoes. So, my tennis shoes only come out when I'm moving stuff or actually running (uh, that's pretty much never). Comfy flats are where it's at!
• Resisting the urge to pass a friendly smile to strangers hasn't been as difficult as I imagined, but the guilt I feel after flashing a blank face out of habit to someone trying to be friendly is mortifying. For me, it's harder to revert back to being smiley after I've already conformed to my newfound survival tactics.
  
• All the friendly peeps in Paris make up for those unfriendly ones. I've learned to take the bad with the good here - it's usually not always one or the other. One friendly smile, or short conversation about the weather from a complete stranger (especially an older one) is enough to keep my spirits up for the rest of the day.
  
• I don't mind walking around the city or through the marchés and shopping centers, but I really hate walking to my metro station. It's only a 6-8 minute walk from our apartment, but it's the walk I despise the most. I don't know why. I'm thinking it's a subconscious reflection that comes from my years of car-dependency, and walking any further than the garage makes the part of my brain that deals with laziness start going crazy with fury. Hmmm.
  
• As much as I gorged on Tex-Mex on our last trip, I wish I would have eaten more.
  

This time of year in Paris is when Parisians decidedly make an excuse to meet the neighbors. It’s called the Fête de Voisins, and it’s the equivalent to a block party in the States, only instead of closing down neighborhood streets, folks take it to the common area of their buildings (although I learned that when the weather is particularly great, buildings on small streets will put up barricades and have a combined Fête de Voisins). I’d been looking forward to this for over a week now. We had to sign up for what we planned to bring, and after waiting to see what others had put on the list, I decided to bring a pasta dish, hummus with warm pita, and a liter of Coke.

Even though I’d been the one to convince Gui to go to the Fête in the first place, I was a little nervous about the whole thing once the day arrived. All those questions start rolling through my mind...will they hate the fact that I’m American?...will they be offended that I can’t properly speak French, yet I’m living in their country?...will anyone speak English to me?...will they like my pasta or think its weird?

The poster said everything would begin at 8pm, so right at 8, I hollered at Gui to help me take everything down. I knew we’d be one of the first to arrive, and we were, with the exception of one tenant and the host of the party (who we later came to know as the “president” of our building, even though he didn’t live there). We chatted for a bit – Gui let them know I didn’t speak French very well, and the first female we met, who happened to be young and very Austin-y I thought, spoke perfect English to me the entire night.

It all turned out pretty well, but there were some noticeable differences in how things are done around these parts compared to what I’m used to. No one served themselves from someone else’s dish until the person who brought the dish started serving it. So, that meant that no one touched my pasta until I finally got up, served myself and Gui some and asked if anyone would like some pasta. Same for the hummus. It was pretty bizarre, and it kind of bothered me that I had to ask if anyone was interested in eating the food I’d prepared – talk about being put on the spot.

We met the lady who lives next door to us, and found out she’s been living in her place for the past 50 years - we learned a lot about our building from her. Apparently, before she lived there, during the war, a bomb blew out the fourth floor of the building and when the got around to rebuilding it, they added another (5^th) floor – which is the floor we live on now. It’s pretty neato, actually. The rest of the folks who live on other floors are a great mix of young and middle-aged peeps, all who were incredibly nice and completely welcoming to us newcomers. There’s only one proper family that lives in our building, and I’m not complaining about that. The two kids, though, were rather well-behaved and their parents seemed to have them in check, which is always a good thing.

I was definitely nervous for no reason, since everyone seemed to be interested in my story – how I got here, how I’m adjusting, what I’ll be doing. It was comforting to have my worries laid to rest, and to now know a few familiar faces around my new ‘hood.

So, we're on the right path to being organized and settled in our new apartment. We're still missing some of the essentials, like curtains, rugs, lamps and space for our dishes, but we've got the really big stuff out of the way. Gui and I had fun constructing our bed, which we're both really happy with (you've done it again, Ikea). We had it built and ready for use just in time to stay in our new place from Sunday night. On Monday, while Gui was at work, I managed to finish constructing the rest of our Ikea buys - our table and four chairs (nearly rubbed the skin off of my thumb doing that) and the dessert cart that we're using in our kitchen. It's been fun putting it all together, but I'm really anxious to finish it up now. Hopefully, after one more shopping trip, the place will be in good enough shape to share pics with everyone before we go on vacation.

By the way, the only thing that I keep thinking about is what and where I'm going to eat while I'm in Texas...I think I'm a little homesick.

This was my first birthday spent in Paris, and although I didn’t set my expectations high, it was a total bomb. We planned to be moving into our new place all weekend. We I had a schedule planned out and we figured we’d be finished with all the big stuff well before the camionette (rental truck) was due back at 6pm.

Our first task was to pick up the sofa-bed from some peeps in north Paris who were selling it on Craigslist. Man, it’s a big sofa. It was a great deal for the kind of sofa it was, but after seeing the guys take it from the 3^rd-floor apartment to put in the truck, I was having second thoughts about how it was going to get into our 6^th-floor apartment. We have an elevator, but if you’ve ever seen an elevator in Paris, it’s not usually big enough to fit more than three people (or two Americans…hehe). Well, my thoughts were right on because it was the biggest b!*ch trying to get the stupid thing up the winding steps of our building. Talk about a nightmare. After nearly an hour of heaving-and-hoeing, we finally made it to our apartment. Now, you’d think it’d be easy-peasey at this point, but no way. Our apartment is positioned in such a way that it’s nearly impossible to fit the couch in easily without first calculating the Pythagorean Theorem and angular degrees of how to property position the thing to fit through our living room door.

When we finally managed to get the couch into the right spot, it was off to the next task of sifting through the aisles of Ikea – the nearest one being outside of Paris. At this point, it’s a little after noon and we’re pretty hungry and tired, but we trek on, knowing that we have lots to get done at Ikea, including picking up our bed, our table and chairs, and nearly everything else for the kitchen. After spending about two hours scouring the place for everything on our list, we made it to the checkout counter with two full baskets. Thinking everything is all hunky-dory, we swipe our bank card, punch in the code and get declined. We try again. Declined. And again – but for half the amount. Declined. What. The. Hell? Gui left the checkbook at home, and neither one of us is sure if we have enough on our American accounts to pay for everything in dollars (knowing that charging it in dollars would be really stupid). Gui makes a call to the bank who tell him that there shouldn’t be a problem, so to try again. But, it’s Saturday, and only stupid people work for the bank on Saturday because what he fails to tell us is that we’ve spent more than our limit for the month and there’s no way they can do anything about upping our limit for this month until Monday. So, we think we’ll try to get the money from an ATM – it worked earlier in the day when we paid for the sofa, so it must work now. Only this time, the nearest (and only, apparently) ATM in this poor excuse for a city is about a kilometer away in city center. No, there is not one single ATM in this massive “American-style” shopping center or anywhere near it. So, off we go uphill, downhill, through the town. About 20 minutes later, we’re at the ATM and what do you know, we get declined! I’m totally done at this point, and we decide to forget it at this point.

Because the truck rental was just for one day, we had to return it that day, and we ended up getting our stuff the next day using two small cars. It somehow all fit, but we still aren’t sure how. After the chaos at Ikea, I was so burnt out from the day and wanted nothing but food and sleep. Gui, being the good husband that he is, stopped at the Italian food shop in town and cooked me a wonderful pasta al’arrabiata for my birthday dinner which I thoroughly enjoyed with the nice Lambrusco he’d also picked out. The day was horrendous, and it’s certainly the worst way I could have spent my first birthday in Paris (which fell on a Saturday this year!!). But, I’ll never forget it and I’m at least grateful for the happy ending.

This weekend has been a crazy one. We managed to get a lot done, but at the cost of sleeping in late. Saturday was Ikea day, and after a bbq lunch with the family, we headed out to Thiais for what we hoped would be a new kitchen set-up, a bed and a couch. Ikea is insane. Much more so here than back in Texas. Everyone who works there is too busy to help you, and when you finally flag someone down to ask for help, they explain that the color you want is actually $300 more than than the beige one and whatever's on display or pictured in the catalog is actually not what you get, but instead some smaller version. I was super frustrated by the time we left and felt like we hadn't accomplished anything we had set out to, only returning with a bag of delicious Swedish cookies (which somehow eased my frustration a bit). That evening, we made a list of what we needed to get, from where and what our budget would be for everything.

Sunday was a much more productive day, and we managed to come away with a washing machine (we actually found it on Craigslist for a really awesome price), a stove and oven, and a refrigerator. We checked out a few couches, too, but didn't have much luck with finding one we liked, so we'll have to wait for next weekend to get that. The coolest part about our purchases is that the two biggest things (the stove and fridge) are going to be delivered to our 5th-floor apartment and installed by the delivery peeps. Score!

The best part of Sunday was hanging out in Montparnasse with Bertrand and Benjamin. We had a really great lunch on a tree-shaded terrace that lasted a few hours into the afternoon. The weather was ridiculously perfect, and we had a really lovely time catching up on each other's lives. It's pretty crazy that soon we'll all be back in France at the same time, talking about the visits we make to our counterparts in Austin. We should all have some sort of an agreement to visit each other once a year - trading off who visits who each year. Gui and I will start off with visiting Texas this year so next year it's up to you Texas folk to cross the pond (well, actually we have a plan to visit next year, too so maybe we'll start in 2010).

There are still a few things on our list of things to do before we officially move in on Thursday (it's strange that we have the keys to the place, but don't officially take over until the 15th), but we're hoping to have most everything taken care of by the weekend. This weekend is actually my birthday, but we'll be spending it doing what I hate doing the most - moving. It'll be a nice gift, though, to be able to sleep in our new place and start turning it into a home. I'll take some pics and upload them this week!

Gui and I accomplished so much today. It was yet another day off for him, and poor guy didn't even get to sleep in this morning. There was too much to do! Around 9:15 we headed to the Champs-Elysees to sign the documents for our new flat!! Yes, we're proud key-holders of a very lovely apartment in Boulogne-Billancourt, just southwest of the peripherique. Let me just say that getting an apartment in Paris is NOTHING like getting one in the States. It seriously felt like I was signing a mortgage, not a lease. We had to initial every single page of a nearly 50-page packet of documents three times so we could have three originals. And on top of paying a deposit and the first month's rent, we had to fork over nearly 900 euros for a stupid placement fee...yeah, money that we'll never see again that's going to pay this woman who's giving my hand a cramp. I think it's ludicrous, but I guess that's how they roll here. After signing our lives away ('seems like we're doing that a lot lately), we swung by our new pad to check the place out; the las time we were there, the floors were covered with plastic and the place was getting a fresh coat of paint causing the entire floor to stink of turpentine. This time, it was in a lovely state - the floors are really nice and we discovered a few things that we hadn't really paid much attention to before - like the nice mirrors on the hallway wall and the small but very functional window in the bathroom. I think we'll be happy here for a while.

After a tried and failed attempt to take a short nap, we rushed over to the prefecture (administrative offices for the town) to get a clear understanding of what we needed to start the carte de sejour process. It was a pretty hysterical moment for me - facing the reality of all the stories I'd read about this process. It was almost as if a dream I'd been having for so long was turning into a very real and tangible situation...the administrator was just as I'd pictured - wearing an armpit-stained shirt and a hellish scowl across her face. To begin with, we didn't have a number because the number dispenser was dispensing tickets that said they were closed. Luckily, Gui's mom came with us (she does this for a living, so we wanted her input) and she told us to just go to the first floor and wait in line. We found the line that wasn't calling numbers and stood in it. When the window became available, the woman asked us what we needed and then asked if we had a number. Of course we didn't have one (and she knew damn well that they weren't handing them out), but when she spotted a crumpled ticket that said service fermé, she picked it up and said "oh, ok, there's your ticket, now go ahead, what do you need?" So, after she proved her point (that we need to have a ticket, even if it's not a ticket at all, but we need to at least appear to have tried to take a ticket before even thinking about coming to her window), we proceeded with requesting the information about the cds. We had no intention of doing anything but picking up a list of required documents for our next meeting, but she made it clear that she was going to examine all the things she requested (my passport, Guillaume's identity card, our marriage certificate) before doing anything else or answering anymore questions. After looking over our stuff, and not saying much, she finally said, "You've got an appointment, so you'll need to bring the following documents with you to that appointment." No mention of the date, time or location of the appointment, but just that we got one! When we inquired more about this elusive rendezvous, she simply said it was "Thursday at 3pm." Gui can't just leave work whenever he wants, so he asked if he could pick the date and time. That's when she clarified that the appointment was scheduled for 3 months from now - Thursday, August 1st. So, we left it at that, took the paperwork that shows what we need to bring back in August (and is required for me to travel to and from France until then), and went on our way. That's when she finally gave a toothy grin and asked us to have a nice day. I guess it just takes some time for French folks to warm up to you.

Well, that was our day today. We tried to take care of some banking business, but were only able to schedule an appointment for the end of the month...better than nothing. Tomorrow's another early day - we get to check out our wedding photos (yay!!) and start some furniture shopping at Ikea (double-yay!!). We still have so much to do, but the important stuff is at least on the right track towards accomplishment! Things are looking peachy.

...especially compared to Paris! I finally got out of the house today when I took a trip to the local Kroger for some peach pie, Blue Bell vanilla ice cream, and other various necessities my mom needed to replenish. I'm heading home to Paris tomorrow and the nostalgia set in as I pushed in the industrial-sized shopping basket toward the produce and bakery sections. It's so nice to know where everything is in a grocery store, or to at least have an idea of where to find it. And So. Many. Choices!

Anyone who knows me, knows that I love to grocery shop. LOVE IT! It's so much fun walking up and down the aisles, dreaming of the delicious dishes that might make it into my belly from the plethora of ingredients in this 30,000+ square foot box. And, after spending some time shopping at Monoprix, Franprix and Auchan over the past few months, it sure does feel so great to leisurely push around a cart in a wide-open space where other customers smile and politely excuse themselves for having their cart slightly more than halfway into the aisle you're trying to get through. Not to mention the oh so pleasant odors of freshly-baked bread and cakes that hit your nostrils just as the big, sliding glass doors swoop open. Kroger is no Trader Joe's, but it was still able get me excited about grocery shopping again. I think I'll have to dig a little deeper than my neighborhood Monoprix back in Paris to get that feeling when I'm back, and after doing a little searching, I'm anxious to check this place out. And this one, too.

I've been reading for months now fellow expatriates' experiences with the infamous carte de sejour that in my particular situation is required to hold if my intention is to reside in France - which is the case! I've heard everything from horror stories to fairy tales from others' experiences dealing with French prefectures. I'm still not completely sure what to expect when Gui and I make our first appearance at the local prefecture in Boulogne (where we will, presumably, be residing). Actually, the whole apartment thing is proving to be very important for the carte de sejour - we have to show proof of our residency within the bounds of the prefecture, as well as an unceasing communauté de vie (community of life...or sharing a residence), presumably in our own place with both of our names on a mortgage or lease. So, I can't actually start the process until we've signed for a place, which puts a little more pressure on our apartment-hunting process.

What I've gathered about the carte de sejour (cds) so far, is this:
#1, I will need to make an ungodly amount of copies of everything I have with my name on it, with Gui's name on it, and that proves in any way my existence as his foreign-born wife (translated if need be)

#2, I shouldn't expect to have copies or originals of everything I need on my first visit (from what I've heard, I think it would be setting some sort of French record if I could get it all done in one go)

#3, I will have to submit to a medical exam that consists of taking off my top, squishing my boobs against an x-ray machine and answering questions about my smoking habits

#4, I will be asked politely if I'd like to have to sign a contract that indicates my willingness to receive French values and integrate within its society. This contract will require my presence at two day-long classes, one on French history, one on French culture, and will also test my French speaking abilities in order to prescribe the appropriate number of language course hours they will offer me for free. As cool as free sounds to me, I'm pretty sure my lowly skills will get me stuck in a 400-hour program (that's the maximum) that will mandate a 35-hour week of learning French for 12 weeks. Now, don't get me wrong, I'd love to do just that - all my life, in fact - but I need to make some money, yo. I'm ready to get back to work. Even though I read somewhere (actually somewheres since I saw it on two people's blogs) that the French government will compensate you for your time if you have to take classes on a full-time basis. Problem is, I haven't read this on any official website and I haven't worked since November of 2007 (a disbelief even I struggle to fathom)!! Why would they compensate a (now, technically) housewife-ish foreigner like me?

And finally, #5, I should expect for this entire process to take anywhere from 4 months to a year (which is a little comical since the first cds is pretty much always issued for only a year's time...or so I hear). And get this, you have to apply for a renewal cds two months prior to the expiration of your original cds. Oh, the Frenchness of it all. Who says the French system is a bureaucratic nightmare? Hogwash.

This all brings me to another topic that I'm still struggling to sort out about my move to France. I'm still stuck about what to do when I finally get there. I'm still waiting for a reply from a school I applied to long ago, which in my mind indicates a negative response to my application for admission to their master's program in Paris. I'm going to give them a call on Monday, fo' sho' though. I seriously think I should pursue a year-long master's degree at this point, but my bank account and bills are begging me to get back to work.

Can I really make someone else pay my bills? That's yet to be seriously asked or answered, so I'll wait until that time comes (if ever). But, I'm finding the whole dependency thing is not really for me. I think my my ego is too big, my mind too enthusiastic and my eyes too coveting to not be making and spending my own money. I'm still at a selfish point in my life, where I want to satisfy my wants and pursue my goals at whatever cost it takes (this is likely why I haven't yet joined my more mature friends who are impregnating themselves by the droves). So, there lies my predicament - stay jobless another year to get a master's while my husband pays my bills OR find a jobby-job asap and get back to acting like a real adult. It'll be interesting to see how this one turns out. No doubt I'll be letting you know.

There are two important things I need to blog about.

Firstly, Guillaume and I will be heading to Austin for some fun with friends and famille from June 1st-8th. But, first, we're going to be spending the weekend of May 30th in San Antonio (can you believe Gui's never been?!), enjoying some yummy food at Mi Tierra, the Riverwalk and who knows, maybe even a [pitcher of] margarita[s] or ten. We're super-stoked about a Texas visit, so if you're going to be in Austin for that week, make plans for breakfast, lunch, dinner, steak-night, brunch, happy-hour, or whatever other event that involves food and drink (Texas-style, of course) with Guillaume and me. I'm really excited about him finally returning to Texas (this time as my husband...OMG!) to catch up with friends, but I'm still a little nervous about his first encounter with all my aunts, uncles and cousins! He seems to be looking forward to it, and I know it's going to be a good time, but my family can be a bit...hmmm...loud...crazy...strange! I mean, look at me for goodness' sake!

Now for my second bit of news. I'M NOW AN OFFICIAL FRENCH FAMILY MEMBER! Well, at least according to France. I got my visa today that certifies me as a "family of French," which is probably more appropriately translated as "family to a French person," but seriously it says famille de francais. Anyway, all I know is I'm official. I have two months to get my resident card from the local prefecture in Boulogne-Billancourt (where Gui and I have decided to get an apartment...oh dear, I think I need to add another bit of news here, but it's not really official yet, so I'll wait until we actually have a signed lease, but either way we're living in Boulogne so I'm still going to their prefecture), then I'll be set to work, study and altogether settle in France! We plan to make a visit to the prefecture within two weeks of my arrival in Paris so we can get the ball rolling asap. I need to work, yo. Well, I need to study French first, actually, but I still need my resident card before I can do that, so there you go.

I must add that the French consulate in Houston is really nice, as are the two women who work there. Of course, there was a bit of paperwork that they required that was indicated NO WHERE on their website as required for my particular visa, but it was no biggie. Thank the heavens I way over-prepared and brought copies of just about any paperwork with my or Gui's name on it, just in case.

It was a really pleasant ordeal, actually. I was an hour and a half early for my appointment, but they saw me within an hour and I was out of there with a shiny, new visa glued in my passport before my appointment was supposed to commence. Good stuff. It was a far cry from the near mayhem and crazy lines I saw at the American Embassy in Paris, but I guess the US is slightly bigger than France, so...

That's our question these days. Today, we went to look at a couple of apartments in the Paris suburb of Boulogne-Billancourt, which is where Gui is working and just southwest of the peripherique. The apartments were both very charming, definitely large enough for us (well, by Parisian standards - I can't believe I once lived in a 1200 sq foot apartment in Austin for half the price it would be in Paris!), and the location of both were very ideal and near lots of transport (including a nearby metro stop). Guillaume didn't see the first apartment, but it had great windows, large rooms, lots of closet space and a mere 3 min walk to the nearest metro. The kitchen and bathroom, however, were a little sub-par and the community space (mainly just the stairwell) was in a complete state of disrepair. And, at a price nearly 100 Euros more expensive than we're comfortable paying, it wasn't looking to be a strong contender.

Guillaume joined us at the second place, which took him only 15 minutes to find from work (a big plus). Aside from the overwhelming scent of turpentine permeating throughout the building (they were repainting the apartment), the place was fairly similar to the last, but quite a bit nicer. It was the same style, nearly the same size, though the rooms seemed very slightly smaller, the kitchen was about a meter longer, and the bathroom was in a much better condition, as well. But, besides one hall/coat closet, there was no closet space whatsoever, the kitchen was still pretty tiny and separate from the living room, and although there was much light coming in, the windows seemed a bit small for the place. Apart from all this, I could actually see myself living there with Gui.

The cool, but weird thing about both of the apartments is that the living room is a closed-off area with its own door and windows, so it provides much privacy if we should have visitors staying with us. The downfall to this, is that it provides for a very closed-off kitchen as well, and that's something I'm a little hesitant about. I love having a place to cook where I can also be involved in what's going on in the living room, especially when we have guests. I've realized after searching around the internet, that I'm going to have to decide if I prefer providing privacy for our visitors or inclusion for the cook. Another thing to consider is that many of these apartments are going to provide either large kitchens and smaller rooms or larger rooms and minuscule kitchens. I'm kind of leaning toward the larger kitchen idea, though. I mean, without a Taco Bell, Wendy's, Chick-fil-a, Whataburger, Maudie's, or Sonic around each corner, I'm pretty much forced to eat McDonald's everyday or cook; and let's be honest, you can only have so many Royales with cheese before dying from overconsumption of flavorless meat.

So, tomorrow's another day. After we pick up 3 cases (yes, that's 18 bottles) of champagne from Auchan, we're going to try to check out a couple more apartments. As I search through location listings, I find myself grinning with disbelief when I type in that my preferred apartment size is between 35 and 45 m² (that's about 375-450 square feet, people!!)!! Such is my life for now, but I'm not complaining. I saw about 5 kids walking home from school today with a tasty baguette tucked under their arms; I could do nothing but smile and thank my lucky stars I get to live here. :)

OK, so UPS hasn't completely ruined my life...yet (it takes time to steal someone's identity, doesn't it?). That being said, they did give us a scare that they wouldn't deliver our documents as requested the second time around. But, they did, so we're happy about that, and now it's just a waiting game to see if my mom will get her passport in time to fly out to Paris. It's definitely a nail-biter.

I spent the first part of the weekend with my mom, driving into Austin together and enjoying a good dose of tex-mex. We even waited in line for nearly an hour (stomachs grumbling and all) to get seated at a favorite, famous Austin eatery. It was totally worth it, though. I was telling my mom how waiting for that long is pretty much unheard of in Paris - I mean, why wait an hour to eat when you could just as easily go next door for an equally good meal, or heck, find a panini stand and be sure to have a fully satisfied belly?

It's just really crazy that this will be my last week (for a long while, at least) in my hometown. Hopefully, I'll get to see everyone and eat everywhere I love before making the move official. My friends are planning a very secret bachelorette party for me next weekend (absolutely can not wait!), and my cousin from Georgia is coming to celebrate - which is the coolest thing ever. On top of that, we'll be lunching and dining and happy-houring the week away, so much to look forward to in this final week.

The weather in Austin has been some of the best I can remember and the food seems to be tastier by the bite. The long-standing, come-and-go relationship I've had with this city is coming to an end as I leave it for the (possibly) final time, and it isn't letting me go without a good fight. It won't be easy to leave, but I've got to make myself a home in my new city with the love of my life. I'll be back, Austin, so don't worry. And next time we rendezvous, I hope it'll be with my new family and for a time long enough to really enjoy your company.

I don't even know where to begin. So much has happened since my last posting. My wonderful friends came to visit me and Gui in Paris. We had such a great time here and really enjoyed the short side-trips to Brussels and Amsterdam. Brussels is my new favorite place...whoever created that city has my greatest thanks. We all kept a beer diary throughout our trip and filled our diary with entries of every new beer we could treat our taste-buds to. Of course no trip to Belgium could be complete without indulging in chocolate and of course, mussels in Brussels!

We had the time of our lives in Belgium, which might explain my lukewarm experience in Amsterdam. The city, history and architecture are beautiful; the people and the atmosphere are another story. My two favorite moments in Amsterdam were 1) the trip to Anne Frank's old house (I didn't want to leave - so amazing), and 2) the canal boat ride through the city at sundown. Overall, the trip was a great success. We had a ton of fun, and it was great to see my friends on the other side of the pond.

(pictures from the trips to come soon...)

I spent my last 10 days in France sharing as much of my time with Guillaume as possible and trying to organize my affairs for my return back to the States. I've been back now for 3 weeks, and it feels like so much longer. Being apart from Gui never gets any easier. This time was particularly difficult. In the past, we'd always managed to work out a way to spend most of the year together, but this time was a little different. We had come to a crossroads where both of us were embarking on journeys towards our long-term goals, and neither of us knew when we'd see the other next. For us, it made no sense to make plans for our futures without considering how the other would fit in it. So, long story short, we are now making plans for me to indefinitely return to Paris in May after we exchange our vows on April 26th this year. It's the most wonderful feeling to be on the same path with the person I love, and to know that we'll no longer have to tailor our separate lives to be together. I'll be posting my experiences and obstacles throughout the transition, many of which I'm sure will be very difficult and frustrating. But, it is almost an understatement to say that these days I'm a very happy girl.