Home Again

Home Again Home Again

I’m back. I think I left my heart in Paris. If not my heart then definitely my sense of timing. I’m eating dinner for breakfast and breakfast for dinner… I’m all mixed up. I had thought, “jet lag-schmetlag! I don’t get jet lag. That’s for sissies”. And it’s true on the way to Paris I was so excited I didn’t sleep for two days. I was so excited I wanted to be up and walk the streets at night and in the early morning. Those late late hours and early early hours were hours I would never want to miss. There is nothing like getting to know a town than you do in the hours that everyone else is sleeping. Who needs sleep!

So yesterday at six in the evening, which felt like afternoon now that the sun is staying up so late, I thought I would just sit down on the couch and snuggle with my cat Pounce for a few minutes. I had no idea that I would fall DEAD ASLEEP for FOUR HOURS!!!!! Oh my! I put my head next to his purring body, felt the soft evening sunlight on my eyelids and then when I woke up two minutes later it was pitch black middle of the night! What happened? I totally meant to put up a blog post, cook dinner, finish wrapping all my Paris souvenirs. I had no intention of going to bed at 6 in the evening!!!!

I guess that explains why I was yawning so much yesterday in the middle of the day. I’m still on Paris time. And I want to go back.

There are two things left that I didn’t get a chance to blog about. One was meeting Anne and her fantastic purse. And the other was a chocolate shop.

But first about Anne!!!! Where do I start? Anne is so funny and amazing and she speaks perfect English even though French is her first language! I think it should be required reading that before you go to Paris you get yourself acquainted with a Paris blogger and then you shove all shyness aside and actually meet them!!!

Here is where I would like to go on and on and on about the beauty of blogging and how it has opened up a whole new world of like minds for me. I never knew I would make a friend in Paris. But now I have and it’s the coolest thing ever. Now I have someone I can write to and help me plot my next return. Seriously I’ve been thinking of all kinds of outrageous plans to get back to Paris.

We met for tea and I must have asked her a thousand questions. All the secrets and mysteries of the French people have been revealed to me. So it REALLY IS okay not to tip your waiter more than 50 cents and the reason French women are not fat is because they don’t eat pastries EVERY DAY! All those croissants and pain au chocolates I’ve been eating are for special WEEKEND BREAKFASTS! Ha! But she said it was okay in my case since I am “on holiday”. Good to know, good to know. It was so fun to actually meet Anne. Now I just have to figure out a way to get her over here!

The second thing I didn’t get a chance to blog about before we left was the chocolate shop. We had intended to go to this chocolatier that Coquette blogged about, but there was an ill disposed woman cleaning the glass doors when we arrived and she didn’t seem too keen on letting us in. So we walked a few blocks and went to the French boutique of this Dutch choladier instead. I’m so glad we did! I don’t care if the chocolatier is based in Holland… the chocolate is divine!

The shop was an experience in itself. On the street level there were rows and rows and rows of pretty little chocolates all lovingly placed in the display counter by hand. A funky floor and wacky wired chandelier completed the decor. There was a whole second story where you could drink seven different kinds of hot chocolate and I am still moaning softly, “why why why didn’t we just go upstairs and try some” but we didn’t. We did however meet the funniest English speaking chocolate shop worker ever. He whistled while he worked, he tied ribbons with flair and he made jokes about our lack of knowledge of chocolate.

My mom said she wanted the same box of chocolates that I bought except in milk chocolate instead of dark chocolate not realizing her grave error of comparing dark chocolate to milk chocolate. They ARE NOT THE SAME and should not even be compared he informed us. We laughed and tried to explain that no, we didn’t think milk chocolate was the same as dark, we just wanted the same size box. He winked, wrapped up our purchases with ribbons and bags and sent us happily on our way. Oh, I almost forgot! His eyeglasses were upside down! They were designed that way. He told us that he collected glasses and wore a different pair every day. If only I lived near by and I could pop in every day to see them!

So now I’m back and I’m looking at my own home town through tourist eyes. It’s good to be back but it is even better to know that deep down in my heart I will always be a world traveler.

These are just a few parting shots.

Un Coupe Tres Jolie!

Un Coupe Tres Jolie!

So what do you think my favorite souvenir from Paris is? Yes!!! You guessed it! My new hair cut!!! The shag had to go, it was just too much trouble. Between bobbing pinning my long long bangs back or just constantly pushing them behind my ears, I was just at my wits end with the shaggy hair shagging. I know it was a nice cut and I see it on all kinds of stylish women but it just wasn’t the cut for me. I think what clinched it was when my mother-in-law told me how cute I looked in short hair. That was all it took. From that moment on I was on the look-out for a hair salon no matter what language they spoke.

I walked into the trendiest salon I could find on our hotel street and motioned the universal signal for “chop” at my chin. My cute gay hair dresser perfectly understood and gave me the best flippy haircut I’ve ever had. Plus he totally gave me “the massage” while getting my hair shampooed. Better than I’ve ever had before, I mean massaging my cheek bones and the back of my neck. I almost started purring. I actually started to worry that he might not be gay… it was that good.

If you live in Paris, you must check this place out. Here is the address: Azumi Coiffure at 111 boulevard Saint-Michael, 75005 Paris. Please tell them the American girl from California sent you. Tell them that I really really love my haircut. I don’t think I was able to convey that properly in my guide-book French even though I was smiling big big smiles all the way out the door.