Yesterday was my birthday. Usually, I spend my birthday in Canada as it comes along conveniently a few days after Christmas. I must have planned it that way in utero. Time-efficiency turns me on. Must be my Capricorn nature. This year I was in Paris for Christmas and my birthday, whic
In December 2010, I announced at this here blog that I would be quitting my advertising job after a long year of saving up and paring down. I packed my bags and took off for Europe. In December 2011, I announced that I would be moving to Paris to be with the lovely Christophe, whom I
Christmas in Paris is a sparkly wonderland of delight, especially at the big department stores. They craft the most wonderful wonderland of window displays. (Say that three times fast.) Each year, a big designer is chosen to make it happen. This year it was Christian Dior. One word: E
I’m the Penpal of the Week! I actually titled this Penal of the Week over on Facebook. *Hangs head in shame.* But then I laughed laughed laughed and left it unedited, hoping the laugh would be contagious. Sometimes we have to do these things for the greater good of all mankind.
The French aren’t exactly brunch people, which is surprising when they are the inventors of la quiche and l’omelet. Generally, you’ll see a Parisian ordering an espresso with a croissant. In 2012, I’ve acquired a nice little group of brunch buddies. My possé of
Christmas, in some ways, is my worst nightmare. It’s the shopping. I’m not great at shopping. It takes me forEVER to make a decision and I’m picky. Constant refrains at the mall include, but are not limited to: “It’s too itchy.” “I’ll th
Sam over at Bentlily, the fantastic site where she writes one poem a day, offered up a writing prompt today: Write a poem about what your father smelled like. Integrate a piece of furniture and a season into the poem. So I did and here it is… What my father smelled like I’