I can't stop thinking about the passengers on flight 447, about their families, their friends and loved ones who are trying to make sense of it all.

It just makes me feel so unbelievably sad.

And lucky, and slightly apprehensive.

Is it crazy that I'm still holding out hope that they might all be floating around the Atlantic on life boats waiting to be rescued? Crazy or not, I'm hoping and praying.

It's hard to believe that Gui and I moved into our apartment just over a year ago; that last year we were organizing our new life as a married couple - running through the aisles of Ikea weekend after weekend, building and rebuilding furniture; that I was setting out into the unknown world that is Paris with no friends nor any idea of what my life would be like here. It's crazy how much can change in one year.

Paris has gone from being a confusing labyrinth of roundabouts to an easily navigable town wherein lie my regular hideouts, favorite patisseries and most-frequented shoe shops. I know where I can go if I need to pick out buttons for my latest knitting project, if I'm all out of baking soda or need to get a gift for out-of-town guests. Meeting friends or family for dinner in the middle of town is no longer a strenuous task and I know exactly how long it takes me to get from one stop on a metro line to another. Add into the mix a solid set of friendly faces that I regularly meet up with for coffee, picnics, drinks and dinner-parties, and there could hardly exist a better definition of home.

Yet, continuously fermenting in the back of my mind is the thought of returning to Austin, and it's because of that thought that I've never really embraced Paris as I really should have. The walls of our apartment are still bare because I'm hesitating to "homify" the place; our kitchen still lacks a mixer, real coffee maker and blender, and my clothes go un-hemmed for lack of a sewing machine because I'm resisting the urge to buy things I already have back in the US. I keep telling myself, "Oh, well, it's just a waste of money if I do that or buy this since we're going to move back to Texas anyway." And thus, my nostalgic feelings and homesickness settle in, making Paris feel less like home and more like an inconvenient place to be.

I think after settling into the reality of what I thought my life would be like here - exhausting French classes, more coat-wearing than flip-floppping, a tiny kitchen and even tinier bathroom, walking instead of driving, putting my career on permanent hold and taking out loans to stock-up on refried beans - I just kind of decided to give up on my efforts to make myself at home. So, it's weird now. I feel like I physically live here, but mentally see it as a mere means to an end. And who wants to live like that?

I think the epiphany came when I was at a book-signing for my favorite food blogger, David Lebovitz's latest new book. I was standing in W.H. Smith, flipping through his novel-style recipe book and realizing that I live in Paris. There I was, standing in a bookstore just in front of the Tuileries Garden, just off of Place de la Concorde, a mere 20 minutes from my apartment, waiting for friends to meet me after their day at work so that we could get our shiny, new books signed by a local author. We strolled through the neighborhood afterward for a quick drink and for one evening I really felt like I was in the place I was supposed to be. Maybe it had a little to do with the familiarity I felt when flipping through Lebovitz's book that cited familiar places and similar experiences, or maybe it was because I was in an English bookstore that reminded me of one back home, or maybe it was all the people I ran into - the friends and familiar faces that made it feel like the world is so small. However it came about, it started a series of thoughts about how I really live my life here, and I came to the realization that I've really been holding back.

Although it doesn't change much about our intention to move to Texas (which we're still planning to do in the next 4-8 months), changing my mentality about how I want to live here while we're still here (and when we return) really gives me a new perspective on how I spend my time each day. Holding back because of what might come is a silly way to pass the time, and I don't want to short-change myself from having a seriously amazing time living it up in gay Paree. I guess in short, what I wanted to say is, I'm getting a blender...and may be doing a little decorating, too.

I love knitting, but I'm always feeling a little guilty for cheating on my dusty books with my fancy yarn and needles. Reading is more of an instant gratification than knitting is for me, as I'm very much a "product knitter" (as opposed to a "process knitter"). So I find myself more often choosing to get through a few chapters than a few rows knowing that I'll be more satisfied. I can usually knit a couple of rows while watching a movie or show, but it's more of a distraction to have the TV on than anything. I know lots of people download books to listen to, but I don't really have any desire to change the traditional way in which I currently read my books. So when Aimee recommended listening to talk-radio, I was all over it. I didn't realize how much I missed listening to my favorite talk-radio stations back home until I tapped into some NPR archives and started streaming morning radio shows from my hometown. It's a little luxury that I never knew I was missing since I've been living in the land of public transportation. Belting out wrong lyrics to my favorite songs in the privacy of my own car has always been a nostalgic point for me, but I really feel like I've stumbled upon a little slice of home after tuning in to talk-radio shows these past couple of days.

Last night, while knitting, I was listening to a show Aimee had recommended called, "This American Life," and the topic of the latest broadcast was half-hearted apologies; it featured a story about a man who 40 years ago did some unethical things with dead bodies in the name of cryonics but still can't bring himself to admit his mistakes or offer a full-on apology. It was a pretty interesting story, and at the end of the show, they featured a related poem by William Carlos Williams which he supposedly wrote as a note for his wife to read. It's apparently an oft-spoofed poem, and I found myself thinking of so many ways in which I could apply its quasi-apologetic tone to my own life. So, I did, and I came up with a few spoofs of my own, one of which I'm sharing here:

This is Just to Say
by Misplaced Texan

I haven't done yesterday's dishes
or the laundry
that's been piling up all week

nor have I vacuumed
the floors that also
need a good wipe-down

Forgive me
it was sunny on my day off
and the green grass
so inviting
so plush

I've got a few posts in the works (really!), but this has been an incredibly long week for me which left me with seriously no time to myself (I should actually be in bed right now, too). Nevertheless, Easter has always been a big celebration in my family - I'm pretty sure my mom was still making me an Easter basket no more than two years ago, and I recall a day of dyed eggs and egg-hunting last year - so, I'd like to at least wish everyone a happy one this year!

My friend, Deanna sent me this link that I found seriously funny, so maybe you will, too!

Easter 2008 (and the little faces I'll be missing this year):

We got a call on Monday from our bank's anti-fraud department asking if we'd authorized a transaction at an ATM in Brazil. Uh, no. We still don't really know how our card information was stolen, but it was and it's really disturbing. I always hear and read about things like this happening to people - some high-tech thief installs a copying device at ATM machines and steals the card information from unsuspecting folks trying to take cash out, etc., etc. But, until now, I'd never been personally affected by such a scheme. We were really lucky that it wasn't a high-dollar transaction and that our bank alerted us and canceled the card before more damage could be done, but it still makes me feel absolutely violated. It also makes me rethink how we spend money and our dependence on our bankcard - I know that I'll be much more cautious and aware of who handles my card now and where we use it, even if I've always felt I was being cautious enough.

But, as if dealing with stolen credit cards isn't enough for a Monday, not long after hearing from the anti-fraud department, I found myself witness to what I've now come to understand was the SECOND robbery of an apartment in my building in a month. It was the middle of the day and a thunderous banging sounded in the stairwell just below my apartment. At first, I thought the neighbors were doing travaux again, but when the floorboards and walls of our apartment started shaking with each blow, I opened the front door to see what the heck was going on. Just as my door swung open, a woman was running up the stairs for the elevator; I know I startled her, but she nervously said bonjour and told me they were looking for someone as she let herself into the elevator and descended. I really didn't know what to think at this point, but I knew she wasn't alone because I had heard someone else running down the stairs. What's ridiculous is that I had no clue if this woman was one of our neighbors or just some strange person running through our building. It's just not common here to get to know your neighbors, to know when they're in our out and to look after things while they're gone like you do back in suburban America.

Still, the sound I had heard and the frantic demeanor of the woman made me uneasy, so I went downstairs to see if there was anything amiss. I saw bits of wood on the floor as I turned the corner of the staircase, and realized soon after that the door to the apartment below had been completely broken into. I'm not sure if a tool was used or someone kicked it in, but however they did it, they found their way past a big, heavy French-style door and into the empty apartment of an unsuspecting neighbor. I immediately called Gui to find out what I should do, but both of us were still really confused with the scenario. Perhaps it was a lover's quarrel, or maybe someone forgot their keys and was mad. Maybe that lady was our neighbor and she was off looking for whoever had damaged her door. We just didn't know what to think. I knocked on the door of the only neighbor I do know to get some advice, but she didn't answer. A couple of hours later, as more people returned from work and noticed the broken door, I went downstairs to give my account of what happened. Another neighbor had seen a man running downstairs the same time I saw the woman, but he didn't do anything, either because, like me, he had no idea what was going on.

What really disturbs me about this whole situation, though, is what I discovered today. I came home to find a sign on our building's front door warning us that someone in our building was not only burglarized this past Monday, but three Mondays ago as well (a different neighbor), yet no one bothered to tell us about the first incident until now. I know for a fact that if I had been informed of the previous burglary when I heard the sound coming from below my apartment, I would not have hesitated to call the police or even try to catch someone in the act. Not that I would have gone all "Texas-neighborhood-watch" on them (at least not in France), but maybe I could have done something! All I know is that I hope that whoever's making their robbery rounds in our building has gotten what they came for and won't be coming back again. I've never hesitated to defend myself and property and I don't imagine I'd pause to reflect should someone come and try to bang down my door.

I might be the only person in Paris who checks the weather forecast every single morning before getting dressed and occasionally in the evening before going to bed. It's something I've done for as long as I can remember, and it started when I was a kid in school. I'd wake up every morning, open the doors to my closet and holler down the hallway to my mom for the day's forecast. "Mom, do you know if it's going to be cold today?" Usually the response was, "it's chilly outside, but it's supposed to warm up later on this afternoon," which is about right for a typical day in Austin. I've always been one to dress for the weather; sweaters for chilly mornings, rain boots and jeans (but never shorts) for rainy days, flip-flops for sunny days (but never when it's cold outside), etc.

Dressing for the weather in Paris didn't come as easy as it had in Austin where you've got a pretty good chance that it's going to be the same weather each day as it was the day before. But, for a while now I've relied on the weather channel to keep me informed of what to expect, and I have to say it's been much more reliable than even Guillaume thought possible. Last week, our trusty source predicted a sunny and warm weekend, and we got it. Gui and I spent our Sunday soaking up the day's namesake rays and hopping from terrace to terrace in search of the warmest spots. It was a really lovely taste of what's to come soon, and I'm so glad we took full advantage of it before the predicted gray skies and cooler temps rolled in the next day.

Today is no exception to TWC's predictions - we've got sunny skies and cool temps, which one would hope will set the tone for weekend ahead. Unfortunately, it doesn't look promising for the next couple of days, and we've still got some wet weather to get through before what appears to be some warmer and sunnier days ahead next week. So, I'm going to go out and play before those Saturday clouds arrive! I hope you're getting some sun, too wherever you are!

As a loud and proud Austinite, it's hard for me to admit that I've never really gotten into the live music scene. Besides a few shows to support friends' bands and some free gigs on campus, I've never really gone out of my way to buy tickets for a concert. I can probably count how many concerts I've gone to on one hand - most of them being big music events that I went to for free or that coincided with a road trip. I guess I never really saw the point in forking over 50 bucks to hear someone perform for an hour when I could listen to their music quite happily in my car or at home for as long as I liked. Which is why it's strange that recently, I've been getting the urge to see and hear live music. I guess lately I've been feeling like something is missing from my routine, and I think it has to do with the way I move around town. I'd always been exposed to music on a daily basis - singing in my car during my commute, streaming music at work, being spoiled with an unfathomable variety of daily live music - but, not having a car, an office job, or a city full of free live music venues has really limited my exposure. I'm learning how to change it up a bit, though - how to adapt to my current environment and find ways to integrate what's available to make me feel more musically alive.

Don't get me wrong, Paris is a magnificent place to hear music - it attracts so many musicians and artists to its historical venues year-round. It's just a different scene than I'm used to, and a bit more costly, too, which means I have to plan ahead and choose carefully the shows I see. I know that there's a really great jazz scene in Paris, but I haven't made much effort to discover it (mostly because Gui doesn't like jazz music). I recently saw that one of my favorite musicians is coming to town and snagged a seat to see her next week. I missed her when she came through Austin a couple of years back, so I'm glad I'll get to catch her while she tours through Europe.

For Valentine's Day, Gui bought us tickets to see John Legend perform in Paris on March 7th. This will likely be a much less intimate show than Rachael Yamagata's, but the place that he's playing is supposed to be really spectacular. I'm stoked! I was really surprised that he was able to get us tickets so close to the date, but then I discovered that not many people here know who John Legend is (well none of Gui's cousins or friends our age), which kind of hits home to my point about music being a bit of a different scene here than I'm used to. I'm sure there are loads of bands and artists that I just haven't heard of because they haven't gotten around to these parts yet.

So, I've been trying to find out what people have been listening to back home so I can keep up with what I might be missing out on being away from the Live Music Capital of the World. I'm still hoping that the summer will bring more opportunities to discover live music in Paris. When the weather's warmer and people are more cheery, I could see the City of Lights turning into a veritable music capital of its own. In the meantime, let me know what you've got in rotation in your car right now so I can catch up on the latest tunes while riding the metro.

So, I cut my hair. FINALLY. I'd been talking about getting my hair cut since I got to France nearly a year ago, but finding someone willing and able to work with my thick mane hasn't been an easy task. After a bad experience with an inexperienced stylist last summer, I was a little worried that I'd be unsatisfied once again with the hair salons of France. But, I got a good recommendation from a trusted source, and found myself feeling a few pounds lighter and a bit more stylish after a relatively short visit with a very talented stylist in 5eme arrondissement.




I really love it! It's still pretty long, too, but it seriously feels like over half of my hair is missing - which, for me, is a really good thing. It's a really practical cut for wearing bulky winter scarves and chunky knit hats, which is a must for all the trekking around Paris I've been doing recently. I haven't been doing anything too exciting, but I've managed to get out and about and check out a few shops and landmarks that I've been setting aside for later.

I've also been trying to regain my sense of domesticity lately. For a while there, I hadn't been in any sort of mood to cook, blog or create anything really. I even came down with a sort of "knitter's block" after finishing up my first cable project. Now, I'm slowly recovering and reacquiring my appetite for creativity - I'm catching up on the hoard of backlogged new items in my reader, searching for yummy things to bake and cook for dinner this week, and knitting more projects that I've been queuing up on Ravelry. This week, I've been invited to check out a choir to see if joining the group will be the right opportunity to focus on another long-lost "hobby" of mine - singing. I'm no Mariah Carey, but I've inherited my mom's love of singing to every song, every jingle that comes to my mind. I was in choir up until high school, and I remember being a relatively strong singer - even having the opportunity to sing backups at a SXSW show - but I never kept up with it. Hopefully, this will be a chance to rediscover my love of singing and share it with others who feel the same way about music.

So, things should be getting a little more interesting around here. Besides cooking, knitting, blogging and singing, I'll be working pretty soon, too. Next week, I'll start my first job in Paris at L'Oisive Thé, the tea salon owned by my friend Aimee. I'll only be working about 20-25 hours a week, but I'm really stoked about having a "day-job." The coolest thing about my new employment is that I'll be able to spend some of my days hanging out with Aimee - there's no doubt there will be lots of knit-talk and baking during the day, but I'm also banking on improving my French a bit. It couldn't come at a better time, either. I'm ready to have a regularly-scheduled gig to keep me occupied during the week, and spending it at a tea salon in the lovely Buttes aux Cailles just doesn't get any better, if you ask me.