So, my spontaneous trip back to the good ol' US of A seems to have pushed me back to the side of sanity, which is precisely what I had hoped it would do for me. I can't even explain how much of a difference it's made to my nerves to have a few consecutive days of real life family - drama and all - back in my life. Even pulling an all-nighter on the plane-ride back and going to work for 5 hours just after couldn't bring me back to the funk I was feeling before I left.

Besides soaking up the giggles and snuggles and cries and shouts of my loveable nephews, I also got a little "I-just-need-to-be-an-American-and-do-American-things" in while I was visiting my sister in midwest America. It ain't Texas, but I still managed to find a delicious plate of enchiladas, tacos, rice and beans to grub on pretty much as soon as my plane slid onto the tarmac. I made a few Target runs, browsed through the local Banana Republic, J.Crew and Nordstrom stores, grabbed a couple of Starbucks cinnamon dolce lattes (which haven't made it onto the Paris menus, yet), stopped by Michael's and an LYS to check out the yarn scene, ran through the Taco Bell drive-thru, and had breakfast and three lunches at Chick-fil-a. Oh, how I missed thee, Land of Liberty!

I'll admit that it felt a little awkward being back at first - it's so much easier to be somewhere that doesn't require a bit of reflection about how to phrase a sentence before speaking. But, the awkwardness didn't last long and I fell back in the sadle in no time. The weather was pretty cooperative, save for the couple of nights of violent winds and rain that kept me awake. Luckily, it cleared up before Easter and I got to watch the boys hunt for eggs and fly kites.

I even got in a bear surgery while I was there. It's tradition for my dad to give his grandsons a bear when they're born, and they've become the boys' doudous, which of course means they take quite a beating after the years of being dragged around everywhere. Well, my nearly 6-year-old nephew asked me if I could stitch-up his bear (of the same age) in a couple of places because he'd had a bit of wear-and-tear. So, Dr. Auntie held a surgery and made Mr. Bear (as he's named) as good as new! I could tell my nephew was so honestly happy afterwards to see his Mr. Bear all fixed up.  But, he had no idea how truly grateful I was to be there to do that for him.  My last-minute planning couldn't have been better timed!

I was stoked to finally find my request to appear for my medical exam to get my carte de sejour in the mailbox today. I'm not so excited about the actual exam, which has become the slightly-comical destiny of every new French resident, but I'm just relieved that, after three months, I'm finally taking the next step towards solidifying my residency here. My récépissé expires on the 31st of this month, and a couple of weeks ago, after voicing a little concern about the whereabouts of my application, Gui bypassed the préfecture and secured my medical appointment over the phone directly with ANAEM (the French immigration agency). In fact, Gui left them a message about it and they did what no other French bureaucratic agency has done before - they called him back in a very timely manner! They even took down my information, researched the progress of my file and called him back to inform him of the status. And, would you believe that they let me pick the date of the rendez-vous when we explained our plans to be out of town during the month?! I'll still have to go to the dreaded préfecture and wait "patiently" for however many hours tomorrow afternoon to extend my récépissé, but I'm really relieved that I'm headed in the right direction.

It's slightly ironic, however, that this letter came when it did. Today, my emotions have been bouncing around like a slinky. I'm really sick of blogging about my frustrations and homesickness when my life is, in all fairness, rather great. But, I think Paris is provoking me. It's kind of like that to the blessed people who call it home - just as you pass the Eiffel Tower, sipping on an espresso, croissant in-hand and life can't get any better, you get to your métro station and lookie there, it's closed - because someone died there this morning. (Which actually happened to me today, sans the croissant and espresso.) It's as if the city is reminding you that as great as life can appear to be, sometimes it sucks. What an amazing feeling it is to walk to school everyday and pass the Pantheon, to stroll through the Jardin du Luxembourg in between classes and stop in for a French express before the bell rings, but when the dreary reality of la vie quotidienne resurfaces, the scales are once again tipped and life becomes just life once again. Today, I reminded myself at least three times each how much I love this city and how much I hate it. Yet, it's not really the city so much as it's my life living here.

It was never really any question when Gui and I married where we would start our lives as a married couple. My job situation, although relatively secure and stable wasn't ideal, and Gui needed to put his degree to work before it got too dusty and lost its appeal to employers. I knew I'd be in for an eventful and sometimes frustrating transition while I settled into being a real resident here, but I don't think I fully prepared myself for the personal challenges I've faced and have yet to face. For me, Paris and France in general never "stole my heart" or "talked to me" like it has for so many people who've made it here. It's certainly growing on me, and I seriously appreciate the beauty of such an historical place, but man, is it sometimes a frustrating place to be! I don't mind that I sometimes have to search high and low for things that bring me comfort, and I love that I've learned so many different techniques and ways of doing things that I once did so differently. I enjoy the diversity of the people, their varied traditions and often bizarre anecdotes. Yet, there's something that feels off-kilter about calling this place home. Almost interdit. I feel like a fraud, like someone who's living someone else's dream (except that in their dream, they didn't get to marry my husband), when I'd rather be sipping a margarita with the girls at happy hour after a grueling 10-hour day of work.

I think I'm coming to the realization that Paris might never be able to replace those people and places I love so much no matter how hard it tries; that as great as the moments I have here are, they would be even greater with those people to share them with. None of this diminishes the fact that I've had amazing times here with some of the most remarkable people who I expect to become lifelong friends. I guess I'm just materializing the recognition that my life here isn't going to be perfect because it will always lack those people and places that have made me the person I've become. Realizing that this makes me sound so much like my dad, I'm now starting to notice how perfectly I balance the traits of both of my parents. My mom is the free-spirited, care-free wanderer of life who lives for spontaneity, while my dad is the uber-traditionalist who champions dedication and planting roots as the fundamentals to living a good life. I guess it's no wonder I have such daily self-conflicts about being here. But having an on-again, off-again relationship with Paris is something I'm learning to live with and hoping to get better at. Even though I hate sometimes feeling so out of love with this place, I love my husband more than anything, and regardless of where he's at, that's where I want to be. Let's just hope he doesn't get the sudden urge to move to Russia - there's one language I could die happily before attempting to learn.

I snapped this picture of Gui last weekend at a friend's house. His face is not suitable for glasses, but these gave him an adorable nerdy look that makes me smile.

Last weekend, we were invited to a pique-nique to celebrate our dear friend, Anto's birthday. Could you believe that I'd never been on a proper picnic in Paris? It wasn't exactly picnic weather when I first arrived, but now that the sun's been blazing day and night, there's no reason I couldn't picnic everyday during the summer...if I wanted to.

So, I asked Gui what we should bring, thinking he would say something like sandwiches, some crudites like carrots and fruit and maybe a tarte. But, actually the picnic food of choice around these parts is a little less fancy. So, we picked up a container of our favorite hummus, some pita, a few meringue cookies, some rosé and a very cute bucket of barbe à papa (cotton candy).

When we arrived, it was around 8:30 pm and the sun was just settling down for the evening. We set up shop just next to Notre Dame and the scenery was great. I was definitely disappointed that I hadn't done this sooner! We enjoyed an evening of friends, rosé, and random but delightful snacks by the Seine (avoiding the blinding lights of some of the tourist boats). It was one of the nicest evenings I've ever spent in Paris - the city that I'm slowly and surely falling in love with.

I hate to admit it, but I'm captivated by this.

I’m ironing my dishcloths. Oh, and my bath towels, too. It’s not very common for people here to own dryers. We don’t even have a dedicated space or plug for one in our apartment. So, instead of throwing all my wet linens and things into the dryer so they can be all warm and fuzzy before I put them away, I have to carefully hang it all on a drying rack (which is currently in the middle of our living room) and wait a day or so for it to be crispy dry. And, I do mean crispy. Who wants to bundle up with a stiff, scratchy blanket or dry off with a rough, hard towel? Not me. So, to smooth everything out a bit, I’ve taken to ironing my stuff after it’s dried – a little tidbit I learned, courtesy of Gui’s mom. I always wondered why she ironed his towels and socks and sheets. I just figured she was being your typical French mother from Italian descent. Now, I get it.

Doing all this ironing has got me thinking. Well, thinking about ironing. I don’t mind ironing. It’s a bit annoying at the moment because we don’t have a proper ironing board and I don’t really have a system down yet for the laundry. But, I figured out why people like me and my sister don’t mind ironing so much. It’s a really great opportunity for us to be in complete control of something in every way. So much so that we can achieve utter perfection in our end result. It’s not often that perfectionists get to where they want to be, but when you have a steaming iron in your hand and a wrinkled dishcloth in front of you, there’s nothing keeping you from making it into the perfect, wrinkle-free linen you desperately want it to become.

I’m sure this all sounds a little strange, but I’ve really thought about it. And it makes sense – at least to me. But, as much as I’m enjoying achieving perfection and all, I’m surely not made for all housewife-ish duties. I don’t particularly enjoy doing the dishes, the laundry, sweeping or mopping. I enjoy cooking, but we haven’t done so much of that lately since we’re not doing much grocery shopping until after we get back from Texas. And, I like grocery shopping, but like I said… So right now, at least until we get back from vacation and I start taking my French classes, I’ll have to be satisfied with being a desperately-wishing-to-not-be-a-desperate-housewife housewife in France.

To be starting my life with the love of my life is a spectacular thing! We never intended to be married so soon, but it could not have been at a more perfect time or place. We exchanged our ouis (I exchanged a oui and a yes) among our French family and friends (as well as my amazing American mom) on an absolutely gorgeous sunny April day just south of Paris. It seemed like a dream. The surreality of the day totally outweighed the reality of walking on my 4-inch heels from the mairie to the park to the reception. It was the most lovely day I've ever witnessed in Paris - perfect weather, perfect champagne, perfect company. Even the translator that we were dreading to employ was the perfect answer to my imperfect French, and certainly made our ceremony that much more special. I also indulged in the best meal I've had in France that evening with Guillaume, his father and a few other relatives. I wish I could share the experience with you all in a blog post, but it's impossible. Suffice it to say that our French wedding was beyond any expectation I could have ever had, and it was the perfect start to the marriage commitment Guillaume and I look forward to fulfilling.

My mama is coming to Paris and I'm SO stoked! I can't believe in just 12 short hours I'll be waiting for her at the Charles de Gaulle baggage claim, ready to drag her around this crazy city with me. It will be surreal. It's her first trip across the pond - across any pond, really, and I feel blessed that I get to take her places she's only read about in books. I love my mom beyond words, and this will no doubt be an experience of a lifetime for me - for us both!

Guillaume made his proposal official after dinner the first night I returned to Paris. On bended-knee and all, he presented a lovely ring made from family heirloom gemstones that I'm now proudly wearing around my left ring-finger! Here it is.



Needless to say, I was very surprised and nearly speechless. I'm so happy.

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.