How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are

I'm buying this book this week:

How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are: Love, Style, and Bad Habits: Anne Berest, Audrey Diwan, Caroline De Maigret, Sophie Mas: 9780385538657: Amazon.com: Books

 

I want a Frances Ha sorta love

This happened to me once and I would love for it to happen to me again. I miss cuddling and listening to music together and walking hand in hand. I miss the little things of relationships. But, I'm not ready to put myself out there yet so I'm waiting, I guess.

“It’s that thing when you’re with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it… but it’s a party, and you’re both talking to other people, and you’re laughing and shining… and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes… but – but not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual… but because… that is your person in this life. And it’s funny and sad, but only because this life will end, and it’s this secret world that exists right there in public, unnoticed, that no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us, but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s – That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.” -Frances Ha (Greta Gerwig)

But when I got drunk on Friday night I did ask out the hot ass Spaniard from May. So we'll see where that goes.

Of Montreal

Last weekend I went to Montreal. My friend was still sleeping and I was ready to burst out on a Sunday morning. I was sick of looking at my Instagram and Facebook newsfeed in the French couple’s divinely comfortable bed I was lying in. I turned over and put the iPhone down. I looked out the window. Outside their window is a huge tree that silhouettes the rest of the backyard. I look out the window at the virile green leaves and I pretend this is my house, this is my bed in the trendy neighborhood of Montreal. The baby’s crib in the one room belongs to me too, to my French speaking baby,that answers to a French name. My husband is out at the bakery getting this week's treats. He will not forget to bring me back a chocolate croissant; this French wife’s favorite.

At the end of the fantasy I keep thinking of the chocolate croissant. I now need a chocolate croissant. “I am in the Mile End neighborhood of Montreal, Canada. I need a chocolate croissant,” the American brain in my head demands.

I pick the iPhone back up – the only necessary evil in my life it seems – and I go to my yelp app. I type in the search bar, "cafes + chocolate croissant". I find Mamie. I see it is only 11 minutes away by foot. I get dressed. I tell my friend I am going to a café to get said pastry and coffee. “Ok” mumble sleepy mumble. “Do you want anything?” mumble mumble “Noooooo….” Sleep sleep sleep.

I put on my red converses and head out. When travelling, I find one of the most thrilling moments is when you step out the door onto the street and realize you have no idea where you are going, but you are intending to go somewhere very specific. A catch 22 thrill? Down the street to Avenue mon pins – left. Then to Rue St. Denis.

I pass flower gardens, calico cats on their regular Sunday routes. I pass a house in the middle of this trendy hood that disguises itself as a greenhouse. What a glory it must be to hide away in that during the harsh Canadian winters. Magnifique.  Sip your warm coffee in there and pretend you are in Java. That’s certainly what I would do. Then walk out red faced into an artic world of icicle covered bikes.

 

All the home entrances have spiraling staircases – dripping with ivy and bursting with hydrangeas. What a beautiful porch to sip some wine on and listen to your friend play some guitar – or better yet – as I witnessed, letting Edith Piaf’s voice caress the flowers from your porch side iphone amp.

 

When I reach the boulangerie there are only three of us in there. I forget to take a ticket, since there is no one there, really. But still, I must take a ticket. I take a ticket. #“38” – ok. I wait. All of a sudden from peace to mayhem, four separate groups of French speakers tumble into the door. They are all pointing and proding and poking and discussing what they must to get. Just as I need my croissant they have come for their Sunday ceremony. They do indeed have a chocolate croissant. It is called, the “Oh Mon Dieu”.

My number is called in French. I do not recognize it, but I see it in red lights on the ticket counter so I know it is time to order. A swarthy baker asks, “what would you like”

“Je voudrai Oh Mon Dieu”  I say– the swarthy baker smiles

“et petite brioche et … Capuccino.”

“Do you want cinnamon or chocolate on top of –“

“Both” I say with a big smile.

At the counter, he comes over with the pastries and as soon as he sets them down, leaves me. He is now making my coffee. A few minutes later he reappears with a frothy cup.

“THIS is not a cappuccino. THIS is a MASTERPIECE!”

I giggle luxuriously, smile, and say “merci beaucoup.”

“Caio!” he says. Was he Italian or French? I will never know.

I pass a number of brightly painted murals. The dreams of the artist that decided to place them on the brick wall for everyone else to see.

 

I walk back to my pretend French home and sit on the porch and devour each layer of the flakey choclate croissant. I wash down the thick, ganache with “the masterpiece.”

 

 

I began my day walking hand in hand with Joie de Vivre. I make a silent prayer she would not let go of my hand until I said so.   I prayed she would not get lost in the crowd of people waiting for their bags at the DC airport, or on the metro ride back to my apartment. I tell her thank you, please stay awhile.

 

 

Small things with Great Love

It's an understatement to say the world is in turmoil right now. Unfortunately, the world has and always will be in turmoil. Just as the world will be joyous, victorious, and in a journey towards peace.

Whenever I am experiencing a bad day, I remember the following things: I do not live in a community where I have no control over the direction of my life.

Can you imagine being forced into child marriage? Being imprisoned for having sex? What about slavery?

I thank God I do not live in a place which is always in chaos, where my entire life could be swept away at any time. I try to remember this when i have a bad day. Which lately, seem to be sparse.

BUT - all this turmoil means there is still much to be done. For a long time I thought I had to save the world. I had to do something EPIC, BIG, ASTOUNDING, to be worthy of living.

I've realized that small acts of kindness go much farther than you think. This past year was about getting my shit together so I could pay it forward. I'm starting to volunteer at a local non-profit. I'm tutoring in reading and writing with ages 6-18. It's once a week. It's just enough for me to feel like I am giving back, but not too overwhelming.

All we can do is promote peace in our small, unique way. Then we can start the healing process for the world. And, damn it is wounded right now. 





 
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-29063111

Montreal

I went to Montreal and was reminded of the concept and lifestyle that is "Joie de Vivre"

I intend to get back to that. I'm assuming for the next three months you will hear me singing in french, listening to french music (old and new pop). And fashion! I feel like i need to revamp my entire wardrobe.  If I could I would have stolen all the clothes from every Montreal girl I saw. They are so fashionable. Here is a guide to dressing like a Parisian girl from the summer to fall transition:

http://www.vogue.com/1061265/single-girl-paris-style-summer-dressing/?mbid=social_twitter

All the men in Montreal were SO SEXY. Totally my type: tall, dark, handsome, with scruff on their face. Messed up hair, chucks and plaid or t-shirts. Soooo flipping hot. I wanted to take them all on a bus and import them to DC for a year so I could date them all.

I ate my way through the city. This included foie gras (twice), calf's liver, shwartz smoked meat w/ pickle and cherry coke, lobster ravioli, poutine, chocolate croissants every morning with a large latte, LOTS of beer, a bison burger, macaroons, custard tarts, gelato and the list goes ON AND ON.

I feel the need for a juice cleanse. 

My take aways from this trip are:

• live with Joie de Vivre
• dress in a more Montreal/Parisian/Hipster style
• listen to more French music
• live along with the flow of life
• eat whatever i want, just not in excess - carbs aren't bad. nor is butter.

We stayed in a beautiful rowhouse in the Mile End district. I hope to one day be like the couple who lives there: fashionable, in a city, enjoying life! Which is what I do now but in a small small apartment and with no money. hahaha. 

I LOVE ALL THE WORDS.

http://www.behance.net/gallery/9633585/Found-In-Translation

GENIUS graphic art project.

words + art = c'est magnifique

Drunk in DC

This is what happens when a Morroccan man takes your cellphone and puts his number in it. I do not remember name of said man. I do remember he was Morrocan. That is all.

AND APPARENTLY WE TALKED about my love for Tagines?

Drunk in DC. Nothing like it.