Happy birthday to my [young] husband!
Bon anniversaire, honey!
Last year we were in California, the year before in Texas, the year before you were in Canada, this year, for the first time in three years, you celebrate your birthday at home, in France. I'm happy to be here with you. I love you!
Last year we were in California, the year before in Texas, the year before you were in Canada, this year, for the first time in three years, you celebrate your birthday at home, in France. I'm happy to be here with you. I love you!
Notre apartement
We're finally settling into our apartment now. We still haven't decorated any and I'm dying to put up pictures and art on our bare walls, but all the furniture has been put together and set up and things are starting to come together.
Click here for the full slideshow and descriptions.
(I'm trying out Flickr to see how it compares to Google Images, so let me know how you like it. Click on the first photo to start browsing, and click on the next image to continue through the set of photos. I added comments and notes to some of the pics, too. Enjoy!)
Click here for the full slideshow and descriptions.
(I'm trying out Flickr to see how it compares to Google Images, so let me know how you like it. Click on the first photo to start browsing, and click on the next image to continue through the set of photos. I added comments and notes to some of the pics, too. Enjoy!)
Learning to be Parisian
I've been a hermit. While Gui runs off to work each day, I usually do some form of organizing that we've been putting off, and do laundry (gosh, I've never done so much laundry in my life!), and clean and organize and clean. It seems like the quest to furnish and organize our apartment is never-ending. I feel like there's so much to do.
As much as I'd like to say that the cause of my hibernation is that there's so much to do at our apartment, I know that it isn't. There's a part of me that's becoming a little intimidated. The feeling of being a foreigner is starting to set in for me, and that feeling has been keeping me at home everyday, away from the strange world that I'm now calling home. I'm just now realizing that I'm no longer that young college student, eager to put myself out there and dive into a foreign place and culture without hesitation. I reflect on my summer abroad in Rome and remember how brave and resourceful I was. It never crossed my mind that I should be worried about what people with think of me, of my accent or my appearance. I was so ready to submerge myself into a new culture and become one of them. The same goes for my time in England. Now, I question more, I think more, and I do less.
If I was my therapist, I'd probably tell myself that I've been feeling the need to nest as a way to make my own comfort zone in what I feel is an uncomfortable place. I'd diagnose myself with STDS (no, not that kind of STD, but the "Scared To Do Shiz" kind) and prescribe as a treatment, a day outside of my comfort zone in an effort to expand it.
So, I took that prescription on Monday and shortly after Gui left for work, I walked to the metro stop, boarded line 9 and headed toward the opposite side of town. I've been meaning to sign up for my French class, and I decided that there was no time like the present to get off my arse and do it. It takes an hour to get to the school, but I only have to change lines once, which for me is what matters most (for some reason Guillaume always looks for the shortest distance even if there are a gazillion stops, which in theory maybe saves 5 minutes if you're lucky and get a metro right away on the next line, but in practice, I'd rather save my legs some walking and leave 5 minutes earlier).
The metro is a great place to people watch, and I spent enough time on the metro to remind myself how attractive Parisians really are. Sure, Paris has its fair share of ugly folk, but it doesn't take much effort to find a really good-looking Frenchie around these parts...not that I'm looking or anything!
So, after getting off the metro and searching a few minutes around the neighborhood, I found the school (score! it happens to be 100 meters from Paris Plage) and after a little waiting, I signed up for my summer French class, and I did it all in French! It was really easy to understand the lady at reception, and everything she asked me I actually knew how to respond to in French. I think being in an environment where it's OK to sound like a jackass definitely makes me more confident in my skills. It took about an hour to get all signed up, and after that, I headed back home, across town. I made a much needed pit-stop at the post-office (I'm still a little intimidated about going there to send something other than a letter stateside because then I actually have to talk to a person, not a machine), and came back to my little comfort zone.
I'll have to find a few good reads to keep me occupied on the metro - as much fun as it was looking at the pretty people, I can only check out someone's fab 'do or swanky shoes so many times before I want to stick a heel in my eye. (In the words of my adorable nephew,) mmmmm...BORRRING. I'm taking suggestions for books to order on Amazon or to search for in the few English bookstores around town. I'm hoping to catch up on some classics that I've missed (Catcher in the Rye, War and Peace, Jane Eyre, The Prince) or philosophy (Plato, Camus, Aristotle), but I'd be interested to see what else is getting readers' attention these days.
My classes start June 30th (20-hrs/week, yo!), so for three weeks, my hibernation will cease to exist. I'm hoping to meet some new people (from what I gather, there aren't many Americans/Brits/Aussies enrolled at this school, and it has a high population of students from Eastern Europe, Asia and South America...sweet!) and I seriously can't wait to have the confidence to be out on my own in the city without such a large language barrier. Je suis très content!
As much as I'd like to say that the cause of my hibernation is that there's so much to do at our apartment, I know that it isn't. There's a part of me that's becoming a little intimidated. The feeling of being a foreigner is starting to set in for me, and that feeling has been keeping me at home everyday, away from the strange world that I'm now calling home. I'm just now realizing that I'm no longer that young college student, eager to put myself out there and dive into a foreign place and culture without hesitation. I reflect on my summer abroad in Rome and remember how brave and resourceful I was. It never crossed my mind that I should be worried about what people with think of me, of my accent or my appearance. I was so ready to submerge myself into a new culture and become one of them. The same goes for my time in England. Now, I question more, I think more, and I do less.
If I was my therapist, I'd probably tell myself that I've been feeling the need to nest as a way to make my own comfort zone in what I feel is an uncomfortable place. I'd diagnose myself with STDS (no, not that kind of STD, but the "Scared To Do Shiz" kind) and prescribe as a treatment, a day outside of my comfort zone in an effort to expand it.
So, I took that prescription on Monday and shortly after Gui left for work, I walked to the metro stop, boarded line 9 and headed toward the opposite side of town. I've been meaning to sign up for my French class, and I decided that there was no time like the present to get off my arse and do it. It takes an hour to get to the school, but I only have to change lines once, which for me is what matters most (for some reason Guillaume always looks for the shortest distance even if there are a gazillion stops, which in theory maybe saves 5 minutes if you're lucky and get a metro right away on the next line, but in practice, I'd rather save my legs some walking and leave 5 minutes earlier).
The metro is a great place to people watch, and I spent enough time on the metro to remind myself how attractive Parisians really are. Sure, Paris has its fair share of ugly folk, but it doesn't take much effort to find a really good-looking Frenchie around these parts...not that I'm looking or anything!
So, after getting off the metro and searching a few minutes around the neighborhood, I found the school (score! it happens to be 100 meters from Paris Plage) and after a little waiting, I signed up for my summer French class, and I did it all in French! It was really easy to understand the lady at reception, and everything she asked me I actually knew how to respond to in French. I think being in an environment where it's OK to sound like a jackass definitely makes me more confident in my skills. It took about an hour to get all signed up, and after that, I headed back home, across town. I made a much needed pit-stop at the post-office (I'm still a little intimidated about going there to send something other than a letter stateside because then I actually have to talk to a person, not a machine), and came back to my little comfort zone.
I'll have to find a few good reads to keep me occupied on the metro - as much fun as it was looking at the pretty people, I can only check out someone's fab 'do or swanky shoes so many times before I want to stick a heel in my eye. (In the words of my adorable nephew,) mmmmm...BORRRING. I'm taking suggestions for books to order on Amazon or to search for in the few English bookstores around town. I'm hoping to catch up on some classics that I've missed (Catcher in the Rye, War and Peace, Jane Eyre, The Prince) or philosophy (Plato, Camus, Aristotle), but I'd be interested to see what else is getting readers' attention these days.
My classes start June 30th (20-hrs/week, yo!), so for three weeks, my hibernation will cease to exist. I'm hoping to meet some new people (from what I gather, there aren't many Americans/Brits/Aussies enrolled at this school, and it has a high population of students from Eastern Europe, Asia and South America...sweet!) and I seriously can't wait to have the confidence to be out on my own in the city without such a large language barrier. Je suis très content!
Visual summary
I know I promised to blog about our Texas trip, but the only people who read my blog were there anyway, so I think linking to an album will suffice for a summary. It was a blast, and I enjoyed every minute of it - even when my nephew shot me with a water gun while I was feeling like poop and so exhausted I could barely walk. Love you, Nate! :)
But, really, it was the perfect way to introduce Gui to the rest of the familia, and we couldn't have asked for anything more (except for maybe more time to eat at every place we had on our list). I can't wait for the next visit!!
But, really, it was the perfect way to introduce Gui to the rest of the familia, and we couldn't have asked for anything more (except for maybe more time to eat at every place we had on our list). I can't wait for the next visit!!
J'aime my new shoes!
While we were in San Antonio, I found a pair of the cutest flats at Gap and decided to get them because I figured if I found something better in Austin, I could always take them back. I don't know why, but I'm always really skeptical about buying something at the first place I see it...it worries me to think I'll find a better bargain or a higher quality items somewhere else. Anyway, I held on to these shoes - tags and all - until I got back to France (I had no need to wear them in Austin where the 100-degree temps called for strictly open-toed shoes). So, after a rainy day, I slipped these babies on and took to the streets, and found that they were totally worth the wait to wear them. I absolutely love how they feel and they go with practically everything I own. And, I know I could never have found a better or comparable deal here in Paris, so I'm a very happy shoe-wearer these days.
Things are not always what they seem
Yesterday I made a quiche. It's such a great recipe that after tasting it at her place, I made Melynda send it to me while Gui and I were living in Long Beach. I remember Gui going back at least twice to put another slice on his plate at Melynda's, so I immediately asked her to send me the recipe (it didn't hurt either that the recipe is pretty much a no-brainer if you get the pâte brisée pre-made). So, I've made this quiche a few times since, and it always brings a smile to Gui's face when I tell him that it's baking in the oven.
The recipe calls for bacon, which isn't something easily or cheaply found here, and is definitely not sold at the small supermarket by our place. What is sold, however, is lardon (fatty pork pieces that taste and cook similarly to bacon) which I can't help but think was the original ingredient for this recipe until it adapted to the more commonly found bacon in the States.
I find quiche to be such a delightful, satisfying dish that's filling, tasty and just pretty to look at. While I was picking up the lardon, I grabbed the rest of the ingredients I needed: Emmental (Swiss cheese), pâte brisée, and demi-écrémé - what I assumed was half-creamed milk. It wasn't until after I mixed the demi-écrémé with the eggs that I realized something was a little different. The mixture wasn't as dark or thick as it usually is. Maybe it was the eggs? Or, maybe the cream...did I translate that correctly? I remember Gui's mom asking me what I like to have in my cafe au lait, and when I told her "half-and-half," she showed me a box of demi-écrémé, to which I nodded and replied, "yes, half-cream and milk." It seemed right, but now, as I'm thinking about it, why did she always have such a large container of demi-écrémé in her fridge when she only drank espressos? Maybe demi-écrémé isn't "half-creamed milk," heck, I don't even know what half-creamed milk is. Half cream and half-milk, no? After googling it, I realized - while the quiche was baking in the oven - that I'd used skimmed milk in my quiche, instead of half-and-half. Doh!
The quiche turned out ok, actually. It tasted great, but wasn't firm like it's supposed to be. It worked, though and Gui was happy to eat anything even remotely resembling his favorite quiche. I'm quickly learning to keep my French-English dictionary handy when grocery shopping or translating ingredients. Oh, and I also learned that half-and-half is called demi-créme or créme light or something like that; just not demi-écrémé.
Unfortunately, I feel that this isn't going to be my last airhead moment while living here. In fact, just today I went to the store to buy bottled water. After looking at the grandiose water aisle, I grabbed the bottle in front of me, read eau minerale naturelle, took two and checked out. When Gui came home just a few minutes ago and offered me a drink, he asked why I bought the weird-tasting water that makes you regular. I bought wha? Yeah, apparently, the "natural mineral water" I thought I was purchasing was actually water for old people who have trouble going. Hey, I was just looking for something to keep me hydrated, if there's a few extra minerals in there, so be it. It might actually be better for me, what with my newly-acquired cheese-enriched diet. I'm just a little embarrassed at what the cashier was thinking when all I bought were those two bottles of "regularizing" water.
It's so nice to have pâte brisée stockpiled in every supermarket in town.
Des lardons cooking away in their own fatty goodness.
I couldn't keep Gui from stealing a few pieces before they went into the quiche.
The best part of the crust is the mustard spread on top and baked in before the quiche. You can taste the difference.
Almost nothing smells better than onions cooking in pork fat. :)
Yummy lardon sprinkled about.
Emmental added.
It looks and smells like a quiche, but is it a quiche?
The skimmed milk didn't really thicken, so it turned out less solid than usual.
I guess it turned out OK. But, as you can see, it didn't turn out to have the best texture in the world.
The recipe calls for bacon, which isn't something easily or cheaply found here, and is definitely not sold at the small supermarket by our place. What is sold, however, is lardon (fatty pork pieces that taste and cook similarly to bacon) which I can't help but think was the original ingredient for this recipe until it adapted to the more commonly found bacon in the States.
I find quiche to be such a delightful, satisfying dish that's filling, tasty and just pretty to look at. While I was picking up the lardon, I grabbed the rest of the ingredients I needed: Emmental (Swiss cheese), pâte brisée, and demi-écrémé - what I assumed was half-creamed milk. It wasn't until after I mixed the demi-écrémé with the eggs that I realized something was a little different. The mixture wasn't as dark or thick as it usually is. Maybe it was the eggs? Or, maybe the cream...did I translate that correctly? I remember Gui's mom asking me what I like to have in my cafe au lait, and when I told her "half-and-half," she showed me a box of demi-écrémé, to which I nodded and replied, "yes, half-cream and milk." It seemed right, but now, as I'm thinking about it, why did she always have such a large container of demi-écrémé in her fridge when she only drank espressos? Maybe demi-écrémé isn't "half-creamed milk," heck, I don't even know what half-creamed milk is. Half cream and half-milk, no? After googling it, I realized - while the quiche was baking in the oven - that I'd used skimmed milk in my quiche, instead of half-and-half. Doh!
The quiche turned out ok, actually. It tasted great, but wasn't firm like it's supposed to be. It worked, though and Gui was happy to eat anything even remotely resembling his favorite quiche. I'm quickly learning to keep my French-English dictionary handy when grocery shopping or translating ingredients. Oh, and I also learned that half-and-half is called demi-créme or créme light or something like that; just not demi-écrémé.
Unfortunately, I feel that this isn't going to be my last airhead moment while living here. In fact, just today I went to the store to buy bottled water. After looking at the grandiose water aisle, I grabbed the bottle in front of me, read eau minerale naturelle, took two and checked out. When Gui came home just a few minutes ago and offered me a drink, he asked why I bought the weird-tasting water that makes you regular. I bought wha? Yeah, apparently, the "natural mineral water" I thought I was purchasing was actually water for old people who have trouble going. Hey, I was just looking for something to keep me hydrated, if there's a few extra minerals in there, so be it. It might actually be better for me, what with my newly-acquired cheese-enriched diet. I'm just a little embarrassed at what the cashier was thinking when all I bought were those two bottles of "regularizing" water.
It's so nice to have pâte brisée stockpiled in every supermarket in town. 
Des lardons cooking away in their own fatty goodness.
I couldn't keep Gui from stealing a few pieces before they went into the quiche. 
The best part of the crust is the mustard spread on top and baked in before the quiche. You can taste the difference.
Almost nothing smells better than onions cooking in pork fat. :)
Yummy lardon sprinkled about.
Emmental added.
It looks and smells like a quiche, but is it a quiche?
The skimmed milk didn't really thicken, so it turned out less solid than usual. 
I guess it turned out OK. But, as you can see, it didn't turn out to have the best texture in the world. I've had a busy week
I've been over-indulging in everything I love this past week, including the following:
Tex-Mex breakfast in bed - huevos rancheros, refried beans, potatoes and homemade tortillas on our first morning in San Antonio (yes, there was complimentary champagne, too).
The Mexican Plate (cheese enchilada, beef taco, tamale, rice and beans) at Mi Tierra - man, this place is so good.
Honey-smothered sopapillas for dessert.
Guillaume pretending he had something to do with the creation of the delicious goodness that is my mom's tortilla. It was still a sweet thought.
Celebrating with the whole family.
I'll blog about more specifics of our trip soon. It was such a fun week, but much too short. I wish I could have brought everyone back to Paris with me. There's never enough time to catch up, but I guess that just means I'll have to make more trips back!
Tex-Mex breakfast in bed - huevos rancheros, refried beans, potatoes and homemade tortillas on our first morning in San Antonio (yes, there was complimentary champagne, too).
Beef and Chicken nachos on the Riverwalk (beef always wins), complete with the tastiest Herradura margarita I've ever tasted!
The Mexican Plate (cheese enchilada, beef taco, tamale, rice and beans) at Mi Tierra - man, this place is so good.
Honey-smothered sopapillas for dessert.
Breakfast at Joe's Bakery, starting with Menudo and amazing (constantly refilled!) coffee, ending with a delicious carne guisada taco. YUM!
Sushi with friends at Maiko - downtown Austin. The crab-filled fried avocado with habanero sauce was TO. DIE. FOR. I've dreamt about it ever since.
Mom's homemade tortillas - I still get the little one...this time in a heart shape!
Guillaume pretending he had something to do with the creation of the delicious goodness that is my mom's tortilla. It was still a sweet thought.
Being around the two cutest faces in the world.
Celebrating with the whole family.
I'll blog about more specifics of our trip soon. It was such a fun week, but much too short. I wish I could have brought everyone back to Paris with me. There's never enough time to catch up, but I guess that just means I'll have to make more trips back!
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