Where did the last 8 years go?

So here I sit at my kitchen table in Toulouse thinking about what a blur the past 8 years of my life has been.  Here we go:

2008- moved to Paris
2009 - got married and adopted Stella
2010 - Alan was born
2011 - moved back to DC
2011 - started M.Ed. program
2012 - became pregnant again
2013 - moved back to Paris for 3 months
2013 - Annabelle was born
2013 - moved to Vienna, VA
2014 - completed Master's degree
2014 - began working as an ESOL teacher
2017 - moved to Toulouse

It just crossed my mind, that 8+ years ago when Rob and I were living in Paris and I had no job and no kids, I started a blog...but I wasn't a very faithful blogger.  I was curious to see if I could find it and read what I had written and voila, here it is!  The last line of my last post  said something like, "we'll see how long this blogging thing lasts..." that was 2009, it is now 2017, clearly I am not very dedicated.  So why am I writing now?  I think mostly because of what I read in my previous posts. They were full of complaining, stories about the French and Paris and bad experiences I had and clearly felt the need to vent about.  I laughed out loud at myself, at remembering some of the actual experiences, and at how much I have changed in the past 8 years.

This time around we are living in Toulouse.  I began French lessons yesterday and my teacher gave me the homework of writing down my first impressions of Toulouse.  I have yet to do it (in French), but instead thought I'd go ahead and get my thoughts down.

The day we arrived, Sunday, April 9th, the weather was beautiful.  I don't remember the temperature, I just know that the sun was shining and it felt like spring.  I had been here in January during a very cold and rainy week, so it was a very pleasant surprise.  For the past two weeks it has been sunny every single day, so one of my first impressions is that the weather here is great!  At least much better than in my memories of Paris, which were gray, cold, and damp.  Also, the countryside is beautiful.  We do not live in the city center, rather in a small town about 20 minutes northwest of the city.  The drive I take every day to get anywhere, is a 2 lane road through fields of green and yellow.  Along the streets are both charming old houses and store fronts and more modern, less charming commercial centers (or strip malls as we call them back home).  Overall, its really very pretty and reminiscent of what one might conjure up in their minds when they hear the word "provincial".  Finally, the people are here are quite friendly!  I used to brace myself before every customer service experience when I lived in Paris.  Here, I haven't had to.  I have had excellent service and kind people greet me at every turn.  I even had a woman at the post office (I can't believe I didn't write about the post office 8+ years ago, as I loathed it) take me BEFORE the woman in front of me because she could see I had an easy transaction.  I have not (yet) heard the words, "ce n'est pas possible" (its not possible)!  I am definitely hoping that this is not beginner's luck and that Toulouse (and the suburbs) continue to be as hospitable as they have been these first two weeks!

Back in the saddle

Well, I think its clear that I do not have the commitment it takes to be a true blogger, however after some encouragement from my friend Amy (and quite frankly, jealousy that she has a blog and I don't), I decided to give it another try.

So, here I am, sitting at the computer with a glass of wine, breaking my New Years resolution "to not drink at home alone" (maybe not a good one to admit, but oh well, its already broken). Rob had a business trip to Greece, so despite the fact that I have a fresh bag of vegetables from the CSA I am a part of, I just made myself a "dinner" of frozen spring rolls from Picard. While writing this, I am trying to reflect on the image I had of life in France before I moved here. It included designer fashion, champagne, croissants and culturally sophisticated people. However, after over a year of living here, I discovered I had it all wrong. The truth is that most French people actually shop at Zara and H&M (at least it seems like they are ALL there when I decide to go shopping) and even though they do eat croissants, you can just as easily buy them at a boulangerie as you can at Picard, the store that sells only frozen food where I am but one of millions of loyal customers. While I have to admit the French make much more of an effort to go to art exhibits and enrich themselves culturally, you can turn any corner in the city (indoors and out) and find someone publicly urinating. However, despite my previous complaining about some aspects of life in Paris, I must admit I have really grown to love it here.

So, here we go again Mr. Blog...we'll see how long this relationship lasts this time...

Change for a Twenty

Okay, so I am not ashamed to admit that I am not a regular on the social scene in Paris.  However, I decided to dust off my heels and go out on the town tonight.  I am fortunate enought to have a young, fashionable friend, Anna-Maria, to show me the sights, so, I had really high hopes for the night.  So, after some drinks her in her 18s sq.m  apt, A-M, her Russian friend, Jane and Jane's friend, whose name is still a mystery to me, hit the town.  First stop: Showcase.  I had no idea where I was going, but Showcase was a club, under the Pont Alexandre III, right on the River Seine.  There was a Parsons party there, so it was a fashionable crowd, but luckily I had on my thrift-store purchased Chloe shoes to at least make me feel worthy of entering.  I have to admit, the club was cool...spacious, live band, good seating without having to buy a bottle, etc.  I was having a good time.  However, after successfully purchasing 2 drinks at the bar (typical for a night out, right?), my night took a turn for the worst.  I went to the bar for my 3rd drink of the night, and after placing my order and showing my 20 euro bill, the same bartender that had served me twice before, asked me if I had exact change.  Now, after living in France for 7 months, this isn't an uncommon question for me, however, I didn't have anything but 20 euros.  Then, she informed me that SHE didn't have any change and therefore couldn't serve me, and turned her back and walked away.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME???????  If this were L'Enfant Cafe, I MIGHT understand, but I was at a major club in Paris, France and I was being denied an alcoholic beverage simply because I did not have exact change.  I am still mad just writing about it. 

So, furious, I find Anna-Maria and her friends on the dance floor.  The no-name russian girl was taking pictures of herself and her 17 inch-long extensions, but the others were starting to have a good time, but also ready to depart.  Despite my fury and readiness to go home, I let them convince me to go to another bar, Tania, off of the Champs-Elysees, so I gave in and decided to give the Paris nightlife another shot.  Upon arrival, there were 3 people at the door, none of whom said hello, how are you, allez-y, etc., so we just went inside.  It was empty and smelled like carpet from someone's grandmas's house, with red velvet furniture everywhere.  I decided to give it a chance and get a drink.  However needed to save cash for a cab, I  asked the bartender what beer they had: Heineken and Corona.  Hmmm, Corona sounded good.....so I got a Corona.  For 10 euros.  It was luke-warm and lime-free.  It took at least 2 minutes after paying for me to get the bartender's attention, need I remind you, the bar was EMPTY, to ask for a lime.  I mean, did I really just pay 10 euros for a Corona and not even get the lime without having to ask??????   I tried... Paris, your buildings are pretty,  but I am starting think that your people just suck.  

Street legal?

I would think not, but about .5 seconds after I took this picture a police paddy-wagon (they don't travel in groups of less than 3) pulled up next to him and didn't blink an eye.  This was in the middle of the city...maybe he's scared of motorcycles and the 4 wheels make him feel safer?  Either way, I have a secret love for 4-wheelers (check photos of apt. walls in Sevilla and you will find a Cutty Sark 4-wheeler bar sign).  Ride on!

New cultural experience: french aerobics class

In the dramatic lead-up to "getting a bikini-ready body for your wedding", I have decided to dust off the Club Med membership card and get into a workout routine.  After several months of simply using the cardio equipment and weight machines, I noticed that all of the excitement at Club Med revolves around the fitness classes.  Never wanting to be left out of fun and excitement, I decided to take part.  After having seen some of the step classes and being totally intimidated by what looks like choreographed step routines fit for a competition, I chose to start off with Body Sculpt, since that is, in fact what I am looking to achieve anyway, right?

Not really knowing what Body Sculpt entails, I just looked around at my classmates and picked up whatever they picked up: mat, giant elastic bands and hand weights.  I found my position close to the freshly painted column towards the back of the room and waited for class to begin. I was a little skeptical when the instructor, Frederique, was the same woman that I saw sneak out onto the sidewalk for a quick cigarette break last week (not joking!).  Rather than run through the whole 55 minute work out, I will list the highlights:

1) The Jane Fonda look-alike who looked like she had come straight from the coiffeur with perfect hair and make-up.  She was so thin that her spandex pants were baggy and despite being in the front row and putting all of her energy into the workout, she never broke a sweat

2) The various moves we were doing as part of the warm-up, if someone had asked me to give them individual names they would be: the scarecrow, the elephant, the speed-skater and the monkey.  At one point I wasn't sure if I was participating in Body Sculpt or Hot Moves for the Club.  I also was unsure if some of these exercises had any legitimate physical fitness benefits or if the teacher was just secretly trying to make an entire room of people look as stupid as possible

3)Mr. Vain, yes, hearing this early 90's hit song was one of the highlights of the class.  Aside from it being a middle school favorite of mine, I felt a sense of pride knowing that even though I don't understand what the instructor is trying to tell me to do next, I know all of the words to this song

4) The men: unlike the US where fitness classes are usually female-dominated, they are co-ed here in France.  Not that it takes a lot of talent, but the men in this class completely put me and my moves to shame.  I think maybe they practice at the clubs

Apart from the cultural experience, I found Body Sculpt to be one hell of a workout...next up Body Pump and Body Combat...

Better late than never

After 6 months of living in Paris, France with my fiance, I decided that it was time I do something constructive with my free time and start a blog.  This is an attempt to stay connected, share my stories before I forget them, and keep me occupied so I don't waste my days away looking at wedding websites and travel deals.  I hope to post photos, recount our adventures around Europe, and discuss food and recipes.   However, I can't make any promises because it is likely that I will get consumed with the eating and drinking that is meant to inspire my postings.