Happy Valentine's Day!

Last year for Valentine's Day we wandered around art museums and shops in The Marais in Paris. This year we decorated cookies with friends, had a special breakfast, and enjoyed being together.

One of our special Valentine's Day plates we used for breakfast.

Holiday cookie decorating. What I live for.

On the menu: Eggs Benedict, Mango, and Banana. Oh yeah, and chocolate.

A big, red Lego robot. What every five year old boys wants for Valentine's Day.

And even though this year was much less exotic, I have to say, I loved both days just as much because I got to spend them both with these three guys I love more than anyone in the world!

Happy Valentine's Day!

It's So Funny, How I Don't Blog Anymore...

Oh, the reasons, there are many, including a stressful summer (more about that in a minute), school starting, a Halloween party that pretty much took over my life for, like, a month, and then 23 people for Thanksgiving, and now that whole Christmas thing lurking over my shoulder.

Whew!

So, I want to be back at it. I want to share. Even if you'd rather not read what I have to share. So there you go. It's all about me, I guess.

So, back to my stressful summer. I just want to get it out there, be done with it, move on. Basically, I had some health concerns while we were living in France last year. I would have these strange muscle spasms and, for the first time in my life, was dealing with anxiety at an almost debilitating level. I was still functioning and getting everything done that I had to do, but I would wake up at night with a racing heartbeat and fear of nothing and everything at the same time. It wasn't pretty. But I love Paris, and the students, and our experience there, and I chalked up the aches and pains and panic attacks to a absolutely crazy year.

For those of you just joining us, let's recap what I experienced in the span of about 9 months or so. First, we FINALLY finished building our house, and let me tell you, building a house has been one of the most trying experiences of my life. And one of the most amazing opportunities. But the time August rolled around and the moving trucks pulled up with the last boxes, I was spent. And just a month before that we found out we were going to be moving to Paris for a few months, which was amazing, but, as you can imagine, a little stressful. I tried to do too much, and the fall was filled with me running from one place to the next trying to fit in my regular life stuff with additional French classes and getting our house organized and then packed up to leave again.

Oh, and then there was the pneumonia. So much fun. And almost a year ago to the day we were taking off to San Francisco to get our French visas, with me still on antibiotics, Max getting over the stomach flu, and all of us limping along feeling things had to get better.

They did, and Paris was also one of the most trying times of my life and one of the greatest opportunities. Seems to be a running theme here.

Anyway, back to the health issues. I got back home and decided that if I didn't feel better I was going to go see my doctor and find out what might be up. Well, she ran some tests, and they came back "funny," (and I don't mean ha ha), so she said to wait 8 weeks and then take them again. So, two months of worry and then I took them again, and they still came back SLIGHTLY POSITIVE (whatever that means) and she wanted me to see a specialist. Well, to make a long story even longer, I had to wait for over two months to get into see a rheumetologist, and when I finally did, guess what? He wanted to run more tests. So, three more weeks of waiting.

Needless to say, I've learned a lot about patience in the past year.

Finally, the day came to get my FINAL ANSWER on the tests, and I knew they feared I had Lupus, which is a terrible and debilitating disease. Steve and I went to see the doctor together, and he told us that I didn't have Lupus (big sigh of relief), but he ran a genetic test on a hunch, and found out I have a genetic disorder that causes me to have a type of arthritis called Ankylosing Spondylitis that I've probably been suffering from since my late 20's or early 30's. And it could be treated with simple anti-inflammatory. I never thought I'd be happy the hear I have arthritis, but I was overjoyed to find out what the problem really was and that it could be treated.

So, after my diagnosis, thing have been looking much better. I am actually seeing some huge improvements in my neck and shoulders that I thought were just the ABC's of being me, but have almost disappeared due to the medication I'm taking. And while I do feel a bit geriatric taking arthritis medication, I'm feeling better than I have in years.

So there. That's the reason. Really, I just didn't want to talk about it, but now I have and, luckily, things weren't too serious, and I can move on. I do have to say thank you to all my friends and family who were a support to me while I was going through the hellish waiting this summer. I couldn't have done it without you.

So, look for more posts, I am planning to make them as often as possible, hopefully every day before long. I really do miss acknowledging the simple, beautiful things in my life, like the paper star I started this post with.

I bought them 10 years ago in a outdoor market in York, in the United Kingdom, and I love them, and have made them a part of my Christmas decorations every year. They make me happy, like so many other simple things in my amazing life.

And I just wanted to share.

And I want to share much more in the many days to come.

Sleeping in Seattle

I don't know what it is about my birthday, but it always makes me want to get out of town. So, this year, I went to Seattle with my wonderful friend Alison, and it was just about the best birthday trip ever. We chose Seattle because it was the cheapest flight we could get to a place Alison had never been, but it was such a good choice. It had been over 15 years since I had been, and I forgot how much I love it. After my first visit back in the 90's I was ready to move there, and even applied for a few jobs (which didn't pan out), so I guess it just wasn't in the cards. But luckily I can still visit, eat fantastic food, and shop to my heart's content. Check it out.

My birthday breakfast, Eggs Benedict with crab and avocado. Great way to start the celebration.

Signs of fall in the city.

On the ferry to Banbridge Island (a.k.a obligatory tourist shot).

Lunch at the Streamliner Diner.

Wall of gum at the Market Theater in Post Alley.

It had to be done.

Pike Place.

Shopping is F-U-N.

The craziest balloon animal maker I've ever seen. Seriously, click this image to enlarge to see what I mean.

Table of tags from a million past gas station workers. And, amazingly, no Max in the bunch.

Nature's perfect food, falafel. Not quite as good as it was in Paris, but the best I've had in the US.

Happy Birthday to me!

Curves and Cow Heads

My friend Susannah left for Paris yesterday. She and her family are there while her husband teaches at a University there, and it's brought back a lot of memories, and I think for the first time since we got home I actually am missing Paris. Not that it wasn't a completely amazing experience, but after last year (which, to remind you, included building a house, a bad case of pnemonia, as well as moving my whole family overseas) it's been nice to be home. I'm loving my new labeler and organizing closets.

I know, nothing like life in the fast lane.

But I have to say that it feels good to be nostalgic. I feel like our time in Europe was such a whirlwind, especially the end when we left Paris and then spent ten days in London and two weeks in Amsterdam. It was wonderful, but left me overwhelmed in the blogging department. So, expect a little catch up in the next few weeks, starting with today.

I really did learn a lot about beauty and art in Paris because it surrounds you there, and thinking of this brought me back to one of the most beautiful things I saw during my time there.

I was at a tourist shop with my sister Angela when she visited and I was waiting outside on the corner while she made her selections. I had walked down the street a million times, but I had never stopped on this particular corner and taken a look around. I spied what looked like an building from a movie set at the end of the street and, after my sister was done, we went to check it out.

Turns out it was one of the best examples of Art Nouveau architecture in Paris, so I had to snap some photos:

Every little detail of this building was a piece of art in and of itself. The doorway was so beautiful I could have just studied it's details all day.

One of my favorite parts of Art Nouveau is the weird assymetry and whimsy. Like the oval shaped window thrown in randomly (behind the tree). It just made this example over the top. As I was taking the photos an American tourist couple stopped to see what I was doing. I explained that this was the most stunning example of Art Nouveau architecture I had ever seen. The woman said it reminded her of Gaudi, and then added "And it certainally is GAUDY, isn't it?" Ugly Americans. Even when they're cultured enough to know who Gaudi is, they have to go ruin it by making a stupid comment. Whatever.

I especially loved the color in this building. Next to all the monochromatic gray Haussmann buildings in our neighborhood, it stuck out like a really beautiful sore thumb.

Curves and Cow Heads. Both should be required in all buildings in my opinion.

Even the artist's signature was beautiful. And this guy deserved credit for this masterpiece.

So, I wanted to share. Despite all it's haughtiness, Paris is truly one of the most beautiful places on earth. And I was so lucky to be there, even if it added to the absolute craziness of my year.

And I really am terribly jealous of Susannah.

Is that so wrong?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Yes, I have been away for a while. Why, you may ask, well many reasons, so I'll give you a list:

Blogging Burnout: Seriously, you try living in Europe for a few months and blog about ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING, and you'll see what I mean.

Kernel Panic: So, as soon as we got back from Europe, my laptop kept having what, in the computer geek world, they call a kernel panic. It would just shut down for no reason, then not let me start up again and put me in a perpetual loop with this lovely image:

You know when Apple starts giving you warnings in several languages your computer's days are numbered. I took my dear, sweet laptop into the Apple Store a bunch of times (which was no problem, if you remember how I feel about the apple techs), and they finally gave me a shrug and told me it would cost at least $300 to fix. Well, I may have been an English major and no math whiz, but I was able to figure out in no time flat that it was time to upgrade, which leads to the next item on my list...

I Bought An iPad: You know, when these little babies came out I thought it was a great idea, but didn't plan on getting one for a while. I was totally last on the bandwagon with the iPod and iPhone, so I usually take these things slow. But with the threat of having to SIT AT A DESK to check my email looming over me, I decided that now was the time, first generation and all. I have to say, it's great, but not so much for the blogging. I don't have all my photo library at my fingertips all the time, and I often dip into it for my posts. But the good thing about it is that I don't have my photo library at my fingertips all the time, which means that I don't have to stress about losing all my family memories with one tragic click. You remember what that did to me before. I'm still not completely over it.

I Changed My Blog Template: Why, you may ask? Well, it all comes down to bedding. Yes, bedding. While we were in London I decided I had to partake of the Orla Kiely bedding at Heal's. I was all set to buy this one:

but once I got to the store I felt it really was a bit too girly for Steve to have to sleep in every night, so I bought this one instead:

And it felt a little too tech nerdy to be sleeping in my blog template every night, so I did the old switcheroo. You'll have to tell me what you think.

I've Been Re-Evaluating My Life: Okay, totally CHEESEBALL, but true. I've been thinking about a lot of things, many of which I plan to share in future posts, but lets just say for now that I have realized that life is a lot more fun that I was giving it credit for. I'm learning to enjoy it more by spending more time in the sun with my kids, doing more yoga, sleeping more, reading more, and spending more time with friends. It's been good.

We Got A New Cat, Then It Got Shot: Yes, you read that right. After our cat Briscoe died last Fall, we promised the kids that we would get a new cat as soon as we got back from Paris. And believe you me, we kept our promise. The day after we got home (at 3 AM, no less) we were adopting a cute little tabby cat and we named her Yoko. Long story short, she got shot a couple of weeks ago. I'll save the details for another post, but after the boys were done crying their eyes out, they both asked if we could get a new cat, so the next day we did. Here he is, Smoke:

He's an awesome Tabby/Siamese mix with amazing blue eyes, and we love him. Now if he would just stop peeing on our duvets, he would be perfect.

Well, that's all for now. It's good to be back, and while I'm not committing to writing every day (part of the life evaluation thing), I plan to write a lot, and hope you'll all decide my life is interesting enough to check out from time to time.

What French Women Taught Me About Fashion

While I was walking around a market in Amsterdam with my friend Lara, she asked what women were wearing in Paris this year. I gave her a list: black leggings made from shiny, fluid fabric that looks like leather, short denim shorts with tights and tall boots, tall boots with just about anything, crazy, colored tights, and the list goes on and on. There really isn't just one thing. I liked some of it, some of it not so much, but I did learn one very valuable lesson from French women when it comes to style.

I think it hit me one day of the first warm, sunny days we had in Paris when I walked by a busy cafe and a woman was sprawled out on her chair like a cat in a very transparent, very small camisole, enjoying the sun. And she looked amazing. And, you could tell, the last thing on her mind was how she looked.

I started looking around and realized that this epitomized the real edge that French women have on fashion, they are fully committed to it, and more comfortable in their skin than even the most put together American women. Of course there are exceptions, but I feel that it's very rare to see an American woman who is truly comfortable in her own skin, let alone her fashion. I took the above picture of a woman walking down the street near our apartment because she looked so amazing (and had some really amazing shoes) and was wearing pink. Pink! Layers and layers of it with ruffles and flowers. I wouldn't have been caught dead in that outfit, but she looked BEAUTIFUL!

So, I guess what I want to take away from this is to find my own style, wear it well, then commit to it, believe it, and forget about it.

Twiglets & Ginger Beer

Well, as you may have guessed from by brief hiatus, I am no longer in Paris, but have spent the last week in London, which I love, love, love. It feels like being home since Steve and I lived here about 10 years ago, and I have been sleeping, eating, and enjoying traveling without those pesky 18 college students to worry about (even though I love you guys).

And as I have come back to my hotel every afternoon, thinking I should be writing on the blog but instead mindlessly surfing the Internet, I have been indulging myself in one of my favorite UK snacks, Twiglets & Ginger Beer.

If you're scratching your head, you're not alone. I put "Twiglets & Ginger Beer" on my Facebook status update and have yet to get one comment, so either people are totally stumped, or they think I'm totally lame.

Anyway, first let's start with Twiglets. Really, these things are totally bizarre, and when they were first introduced to me by our friends Tim & Alison I thought they were kidding. They are these whole wheat, pretzely-like snacky food that are coated in the equivalent of Marmite, which is Vegemite, which is that stuff that Men at Work talk about in "A Land Down Under," which is that stuff made of nasty tasting yeast that Aussies, for some reason, think tastes great on just about everything. When I first tried them I was repulsed, and said "Ewwww," but after chewing and swallowing I stopped and said "wait a minute, give me another one of those things...," and thus, an addiction was born.

The Twiglets are totally pungent, so what better to match it with but Old Jamaica Ginger Beer. It's a little like ginger ale, but then again, nothing like ginger ale. It's a soda, but tastes like real ginger instead of the syrupy, nasty flavor in ginger ale. It can be really strong and almost hot tasting, but I find the Old Jamaica is just right. And it comes in diet. Score.

I don't know what it is, but there's something about that nasty yeasty taste and that sharp ginger taste that makes up for all the bland, heavy, French food I've had over the last few months. I know, I know, Marie-Laure, but I just never did completely get it. What can I say? I'm an ugly American.

So, here I am, having my afternoon snack, writing about my afternoon snack. I know, it's a little less ambitious than most of my blog posts of late.

But come on. I'm on a vacation here!

Locks of Love

Well, Icelandic volcano or no, my time in Paris is quickly coming to an end. And our time with the students, although most are still in Paris, has already finished. It really was an amazing experience to get to know them each, and I can truly say that each of them taught me many important things during our time together.

We've been getting together each Monday night for FHE, and we wanted our last meeting to be one to remember. Then I was reading my friend Reba's blog and learned about the tradition that has been going on for years where couples put a lock with their names up on some of the pedestrian bridges across the Seine and then throw the key in the river to symbolize their everlasting love. I wanted to do it for the family, but I thought of the student's time here in Paris, and how I am sure this experience has changed each of them. So, I thought it might be a nice idea for them each to put their own lock on the Passerelle Léopold-Sédar Senghor to symbolize that they are leaving a little part of them in Paris that will be here forever.

I know, I know, it doesn't really follow the rules, but rules were made to be broken, right?

So we all got together and shared what we had each learned personally during our time in Paris, and then put our locks on the bridge. It was a great evening, and truly one of the highlights of our time here for me. Here's some photos.

The students decorating their locks to attach to the bridge.

Then on to dinner.

Steve got the Boeuf Tartare. Why? I have absolutely no idea, although I do know that he often likes to eat food that's based on a dare.

Finding a home for our locks.

I knew we were in trouble the day before we went to the bridge and I told the boys about the tradition and let them decorate and put their name on their own locks. Jack lovingly decorated both the lock and the key, and then cried like he had lost his best friend when we attached it to the bridge and he realized it wasn't coming home with him. Luckily one of the students didn't make it, so he inherited his lock to stop the sobbing. He's already been back to visit his lock once and wants to see it again before we leave Paris on Friday.

Throwing the keys into the Seine.

Lots of locks. The row is some of the students, and ours is the large one in the middle with Max's and Jack's attached.

And, luckily, someone was smart enough to make a key for you to find your lock again when you return. Ours is in section 23A.

I really have loved my time in Paris, and I have to admit that it has thrilled me, humbled me, inspired me, and kicked my butt on more than one occasion.

It truly has been everything at once.

And, as I am spending my last couple of days here, I am starting to realize that leaving that little part of me here in Paris is really going to hurt.

J'adore: Shopping In Paris

And no, not the kind of shopping you might think, although I have done my fair share of that kind too. No, the shopping I'm taking about it grocery shopping. And to be completely honest, it's been a bit of a love hate relationship. Things don't always taste just right, sometimes I have bought the wrong thing completely (like the day I used the kind of sugar you only use for jam in brownies and they ended up very sour), and, you know, everything on the groceries is written in FRENCH.

The nerve.

But today I did what I am guessing will probably be my last "big" shopping trip, one where I have to take the trolley and get a major work out getting up the stairs because it's close to overflowing. And it made me a bit sad. I do not for one instant miss my car and driving to do my errands, and I have to say that is probably the thing that I will miss most from living here: the self reliance of walking everywhere, or even taking the metro. I do have to admit that I have a really nice grocery store right across the street and another good one around the corner, so there is no slogging the groceries on the metro like I had to do on the tube in London when we lived there. So I am spoiled that way, and it takes a ton less time to walk and do my errands (even when I pick up bread at the bakery and fresh veggies on Rue Cler) than it does when I drive at home. And I will miss Rue Cler; it is beautiful.

But really, I just hate cars. And I am lucky enough to have a good one that's fairly new and in good shape. But I love briskly walking the neighborhood with my ugly, hunter green trolley with electrical tape on the handle, keeping up with all the amazingly beautiful, impeccably dressed French women pulling their (not so shabby) trolleys to do their errands. It makes me feel like one with Paris, and I feel the pulse of the city around me. I feel alive when I run my errands here, and at home it just seems like a blur of turn signals and stop lights and looking forward to getting it over.

I will miss the Carrefour City. And it's theme song that plays as you're shopping "Carrefour, Ci-tay." Although it does come in second to the theme song at the Franprix around the corner "Franprix, votre grocery préfere, Franprix." And I love that the Carrefour is open from 7 AM to 11:45 PM. And on Sundays from 9 AM until whenever they feel like closing (which is probably about 1PM). I'm not kidding. I love and hate that about the French: they are very protective of their downtime.

So it was with a heavy heart today I carried my heavy shopping trolley up the steep, winding staircase to our apartment.

But hey, I'm looking at the bright side. At least I can sing along to my iPod when I run my errands avec car at home. Believe you me, the French would not like it one little bit if I walked down Rue Cler singing Feist at the top of my lungs.

The nerve.

What Do You Make For Easter Dinner In Paris? Mexican, Of Course

Okay, maybe I should clarify by saying "What do you make for Easter dinner in Paris when you are feeding 20 American college students?" When I made some (very bad) Mexican for some of the students one Sunday (we've been having two of them over every week during the program), the word spread like wildfire that I made the BEST MEXICAN FOOD EVER.

Seriously, it kind of sucked.

So, when I decided to have everyone over for Easter dinner, the requests for Mexican were overwhelming, and because I have grown to love the students like my own children, I had to oblige. And let me tell you, making Mexican food in Paris is not an easy feat. First of all, the French don't seem to like anything spicy, and cheddar cheese is almost impossible to find for less than 20 Euros per pound, there's no sour cream, and after searching for months, I only found one supermarche that carried jalepeno peppers. And I never did find pinto beans, but luckily had my sister bring some when she visited in March. So, I pieced together a pretty good semblance of a Mexican meal, and I have to say, in the end, I was quite proud of it, as strange as it was.

Who knew that a big pot of pinto beans could be so exotic?

Me telling everyone to come and get it. Max was wise and ate on the top bunk to avoid the feeding frenzy.

The spread: Homemade guacamole, salsa, refried beans, chicken tacos, with a few little French additions, like creme frâiche instead of sour cream, gouda cheese instead of cheddar, and romaine lettuce instead of iceberg.

Luckily cooking for college students is like shooting fish in a barrel. Especially when they haven't had Mexican in months.

And for dessert, the best brownies in the world. I'm not kidding. If you've always been looking for the perfect brownie recipe, look no further because here it is. And those things that look like cyclops eyes are actually chocolate eggs filled with ice cream and caramel to look like whites and yolks (stuck on with Nutella). I had to be a little festive in the middle of the fiesta.

Jack loves the ladies, and the ladies love him right back. I may have something to worry about in a few years...

And Max convinced a few of the students to get into a little Uno smackdown too.

It really was a great Easter. I usually have a big Easter feast with friends and family at our place, but this was just as much fun. I certainly missed my friends and family, but it has been pretty awesome to have a whole new family here in France.

Thanks students, I love you guys!