I'm in Paris!!

I have never been someone who was interested in blogging. Just the thought of it makes me feel utterly exposed. But I decided that this would be the best way to truly share my adventure with all of the people that matter the most. For my sister who is buying high and selling low (I hope not) at her hedge fund job in New York. For my father who was WAY too excited about the jumbo suit case that he bought for me - $500 marked down to $100. What a deal! FYI – it was on sale because it meets no airline standards and almost cost me an additional $700 to bring. It will however make the smoothest rolling body bag ever. And for my fiancé, who I just plain love more than anything and know will look the cutest in the beret that I bring back for him!

I would like to dedicate this blog to my mother who has pushed me to follow my passion, instilled in me the strength to “be a traveler, not a tourist” and has taught me that true courage is letting go of the familiar. I love you with all of my heart and will be forever grateful for this wonderful gift to see the world.

It is day 2 and I am quickly becoming obsessed with all things Parisian. Mainly the shoes. Converse sneakers are apparently tres chic and I must get a pair sooner rather than later. Preferably high tops with an already worn in look to them that screams “I would never wait in line to see the top of the Eiffel Tower”. The footwear fascinates me. Knee high boots, sky high stilettos, and suede booties – how do these women do it?! My Nikes are quickly becoming an embarrassment and I am close to trading in function for fashion.

French is just the most romantic language. It is like a song. My name has never sounded more beautiful - sshhennneeefer. Unfortunately for me, in my quest to be Parisian, I am destroying the language. But at least I am trying. My roommate and I sat down in a café this afternoon for a snack. I hid my “French for Dummies” book under the table and had the page strategically opened to “I would like…” when the waiter came to take our order. My roommate watched with encouragement as I struggled to explain what I wanted, finally pointing to “french fries” in the book. When the waiter walked away I turned to her and go “What exactly did I just order?” She replied “Apple fries” with conviction. And I said “So then what is he bringing me?” Her reply – “Nothing.” Not speaking the language is an amazing diet. Keep this up and I will look smokin hot in that wedding dress in no time!

We are still in pursuit of the “perfect” Parisian apartment. I always knew that I worked best under pressure, but I might have met my match. As a former manhattenite and avid mover (much to my parent and wallet’s dismay), I can say that Paris rivals New York City when it comes to real estate. I just figured that I would arrive in Paris and be whisked away to some cozy flat overlooking the Seine. Where the heck is my Alexander Petroskey!??!??! Damn you Carrie Bradshaw... you’ve sure set the bar high for us american girls!