Charades with the Plumber

I have received such amazing and thoughtful emails from family, friends, and even complete strangers (wild, I know!) raving about my blog. The downside to this is that my readers are so devoted that I literally get hate mail when the blog is not updated quickly enough. I wish I could give the excuse that I my computer contracted a virus when I downloaded a program to watch American television but I know that is not the issue here. I do blame the download for the influx of spam to my email inbox. No, nothing needs enlarging. Thanks.

Aaahhh Paris… what can I say? As with any travel experience, especially over a three month stretch of time, there are bound to be good days and bad. I know that you all probably don’t want to hear this, my mother especially, but this past week has been particularly rough. No nothing catastrophic… just the minor day to day freak outs that seem important in my tiny American world. Delayed trains, long lines, smokers, people bumping into me on the street…this in addition to not feeling well all weekend. Not speaking the language is hard and starting to wear on me a bit. I smile A LOT hoping that that compensates for my cluelessness. This seems to work better on the men…some trends are universal. My lack of French has also allowed me to perfect my Charade skills. Resume building every day.

I had an epiphany the other night while lying in bed. Paris is full of contradictions. The more time I spend here, the more I question what is/should be considered normal. No one would dare walk around with a cup of coffee in Paris, yet here it is totally normal to eat your ham and cheese (and butter) sammy on the go. The architecture is exquisite, yet the risk of a fire is immense due to the smoking taking place right beneath it. The less showers one takes, the more comfortable they feel invading your personal space. The women’s thighs don’t even come close to touching, yet butter flows like water. Everyone wants to practice their English with me…except for my landlord, the waiters, the transit crew, the cafeteria workers, the sales ladies, the plumber, and everyone around me when I am lost. Go figure…

Speaking of the plumber, I am sitting in my cozy apartment anxiously awaiting his arrival. I would be complaining if it weren’t for the wedge of brie and grapes keeping me company…quickly getting smaller and smaller. After two bottles of a Drain-o like equivalent, I have concluded that the Parisian drains are just not equipped to deal with my shedding issue and twice (sometimes three) times a day shower habit. In other hair news, don’t save-the-date for our wedding yet as my fiancé is bound to call it off when he sees that my eyebrows have overtaken my forehead and are getting dangerously close to blending in with my hairline.

I am off to the Louvre tomorrow morning early. I am going to rent the headset so that I am forced to soak up every single cultural nugget. I will have a lot to report back on tomorrow. OOHH and in case you are wondering… Spring fashion has started to arrive! Stripes and navy and boat necks, oh my! I am digging the nautical-ness and even donned a popped collar at school the other day in celebration! I was so born to be Parisian.