We had a great time when B came to visit, which obviously kept me away from the computer and out having fun. (Remind me to tell you about how we roasted a whole pig in a giant pit when his dad came to visit for a few days.) Once he left, we were really sad but it seemed like the summer had just whizzed by and it was already time for me and the girls to start packing so... I changed our tickets to stay for an extra 10 days. Its not so much more and we still get home in plenty of time for school but we don't have to try and entertain ourselves in the city for so long. B actually was the one to suggest that it was far better to keep the kids here, where they can run around outside and play at the lake, than to take them back to the apartment.
I am so relieved. I needed a bit more time to get myself back in the mood for city life. It gets harder every year!
Lots more photos to post but I have the Mother of all Computer Viruses on my laptop and I have it at the shop right now. Once that gets sorted out, I can start downloading a few more of the 1000+ photos I have sitting on my memory stick. Its going to be a big job.
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
weekend in review
Well this weekend was all ups and downs. It was nice to have so many plans, but it is really exhausting! And if I had known about the time change, I think I would have been dreading this weekend. But finally, that was a breeze and the real problems were all the blame on the French.
I'll do the bad stuff first. I don't want be spreadin' B's bidness all around, but he has had a rough couple of days, poor guy. For the last few months, his business has been audited and they got the results on Friday. Now, it seems to me like this was pretty much the result that he had predicted but apparently he had harbored secret hopes that it would go differently. The auditor made some pretty far-fetched assumptions to come up with his valuations which means that the 'bill' to be paid is astronomical. So now, they need to hire a lawyer to appeal the 'bill' and all this will probably take a year or two. And since B is a pathological worrier, that means a year or two of worrying constantly about the result. Sigh.
The second problem that he had this weekend was a lot more exciting (really? you say. More exciting than discussing accounting errors? Oh Internets, I know it is hard to keep up with my thrilling life over here. But seriously, wait for it...) - his bank was robbed! Personally, the last word that I would use to describe the situation is 'shocking' but I'll let you judge. The bank office where we had our checking accounts and safe deposit box has been closed for renovations for the last few months. This branch is near B's office so I hadn't seen it until a few weeks ago when we drove by in the car. B pointed out the window and said 'Look at how safe they keep our money...' The front wall of the bank had been removed and was replaced by... plywood. You know, thin flimsy pressboard. Can be snapped in half by a hefty toddler jumping on it in the middle. Well, apparently, they had moved the front desk part to another location down the street and just weren't terribly worried about the safe deposit boxes so plywood was considered sufficient protection from the bad guys. Geez- I don't even think that plywood is sufficient protection from strong wind, but you know, thats just me. I asked him if had left anything in the safe and he said yes. I said that I hoped it wasn't anything important because personally, that wall of plywood didn't reassure me much. And I guess I was right because Sunday morning, B stopped by his office to pick up something and he saw firemen and police all over the bank- or I should say, former bank. There had been a fire. Set by the bank robbers, who broke into the safe. B called me right away and he was practically in hysterics because the police wouldn't tell him anything. Again, I can't say that I was at all shocked and I pointed out that if the fire was only caught at 8 or 9 on Sunday morning, it was probably only set a bit before (its right on avenue de l'opera and there are lots of people around even early on Sunday morning so it couldn't have burned for very long). That would mean that the robbers had probably been in the bank all night and had had plenty of time to get in all the safe deposit boxes. It was probably a safe bet that whatever he had in there was gone. Well, we spend the rest of the day, on practically on hourly basis, having this same discussion over and over and OVER again. He tried phoning up this morning and the staff at the replacement office didn't even know that there had been a break-in. Oh, French people and their great attitude of 'Whatever. Not my problem.'
At least I can't complain about not getting enough sleep this weekend. I'm not saying that I couldn't have slept for hours more each morning but atleast there were no noisy neighbors to wake me and the time change totally worked in our favor. Tonight will be the real test, but last night Georgia was in bed at 8:30 (a bit later than usual due to the time change and a late nap) and didn't wake until 6:45. I managed to settle her back to sleep til 7:15, when I gave her a bottle and when she was done and had woken us up by banging her bottle against the bars on her crib (honestly, she finally wakes up happy one day and do we get to hear her cooing in bed? No. Its like waking up to an episode of Prison Break.) Despite the noise, this is magical. People, seriously, a Full Nights Sleep. Even if she did wake me up at a very critical point in my dream about hanging out with Brad Pitt and our kids in the park ( we were exchanging very longing looks but I refused to kiss him because Angie would shoot daggers at me each morning before she left for the movie set and I was afraid of the paparazzi taking a photo of it. Don't know where B was during all this. Perhaps at the bank, sifting through safe deposit ashes? Anyways, best dream I've had in AGES. But also kind of random since the scraggy goatee Brad's rocking right now is actually pretty gross. )
I guess I'll just keep working backwards. Saturday night got sort of screwed up since I was supposed to go out with an old uni friend in town for the weekend but we got our wires crossed and I ended up with a babysitter and no place to go. I told B that after my hellish afternoon of hangover + kids birthday party (boy, kids sure like popping balloons, don't they?), I was bound and determined to ditch the kids for a few hours of quiet adult company. He made reservations at the Thai place at the Village St Paul and we had a lovely dinner, discussing a dream vacation inspired by my brother and his sailing adventure. We are going to fly to Panama, get on a sailboat and sail to the Galapagos Islands, where we can spend a week diving and hiking and visiting stuff. Can't wait. The nice thing about B is that once he gets an idea in his head, he won't let it drop (OK, full disclosure; this is also the most irritating thing about him. Funny how that works, isn't it?). I was teasing him this morning when he asked me to cross my fingers and say a pray for him, since he was off to the bank to see about things. I told him that I would be praying hard because if everything turned out fine, he would be so excited that I would be able to book an awesome vacation for May; but if he got bad news, I didn't have a snowball chance in hell of going anywhere til the fall because he would nix all my ideas simply on principal (the principal being that people who are robbed don't have money for vacation. Never mind that the stuff in the safe has nothing to do with our finances...)
Friday night, I had my weekly girls night out which was fab. I am sad all over again about my friend who moved home to the Netherlands. She is so lovely and I realize more and more that she was sort of the corner stone of our group of friends. You know how there is often the person who is the connection between different groups? And without that person, no one is the catalyst to get different people together? Its funny how it works out; I talk to all these people when I bump into them on the street or in the shops or at the school gate, but the only time that we go out is when Hestor is around. Hmm. So dinner was fun although we went to Chez Janou to eat. I don't know. Lots of people love that place but I think it is a pain. First of all, the no seating til your whole group arrives is ridiculous because the bar area is like a cattle pen from 8 til 8:30. The guy that runs the place is obnoxious, even though he sort of acts like its just his schtick. Ugh. The Rude French Waiter act is maybe funny for tourists, but I'm so over it. Just whatever, ignore me or bring my dinner but don't harrass me, please. Thank goodness that I was too drunk at the end of the meal to care about the tip. I think I paid 7 euro too much and I hope that one of my girlfriends too the change. It would kill me to think that I left it as a tip for that meal. The food was fine, don't get me wrong, it just wasn't great. Anyways, I think i like that place better in the summer when you can sit outside on the terrasse.
That reminds me, while talking about restaurants. On Sunday afternoon, while strolling through the Marais with the girls, we decided to stop for a coffee. That whole area around rue Francs Bourgeois was just heaving, per the usual, so I decided that we should head up rue Turenne a bit to find somewhere less busy. We went into Le Cafe de Deux Musees and it was fantastic! I had been there ages ago and sort of forgot how nice it was. We ordered the apple tart (mainly because the waiter said that was all that they had left...) and it must have been just out of the oven as it was still warm. It was honestly just so gorgeous that it immediately went to the number one spot on my list of Best Tarts Ever. So yummy. The wait staff were all really nice and cheeky (take note, Chez Janou, there is a difference between cheeky and rude). The salle is nice and old-fashioned. And the regular menu looked nice and well-priced. We took the card and hopefully we'll remember to go there for one of our mid-week, low-key date nights. I am on a mission to find some new restos in our neighborhood because we have gotten into such a rut and then last week, it started raining as we wandered around looking for a place to eat and we ended up in a very sub-par place just off place St Catherine. Ok, it got is in and out of the rain which was our main goal at that point but the food was abysmal. Oh well. I guess that I've learned my lesson- never go out on a warm evening in March and expect to have all night to stroll around and find a nice place to eat. Unless you left the house with an umbrella.
I'm also going to try Au Petit Marche on rue Bearn. One of my girlfriends recommended it and its also close by so I'll post a review as soon as I get around to eating at all of these places. It shouldn't be too long. The warm weather, and Georgia's improved sleeping habits, have made me antsy to get out of the house more often. I think I might even need to go have a look through Craigslist to see if I can't find a nice American student looking to pick up a few hours of babysitting.
A have a few minutes before I need to go and get Georgia from garderie so I am going to make a real To Do list and try and be a bit productive this week. I am embarrassed at my lack of motivation lately. In fact, I am so embarrassed about it that I won't even go into the details. Lets just say that its amazing that I manage to leave the house fully dressed.
I'll do the bad stuff first. I don't want be spreadin' B's bidness all around, but he has had a rough couple of days, poor guy. For the last few months, his business has been audited and they got the results on Friday. Now, it seems to me like this was pretty much the result that he had predicted but apparently he had harbored secret hopes that it would go differently. The auditor made some pretty far-fetched assumptions to come up with his valuations which means that the 'bill' to be paid is astronomical. So now, they need to hire a lawyer to appeal the 'bill' and all this will probably take a year or two. And since B is a pathological worrier, that means a year or two of worrying constantly about the result. Sigh.
The second problem that he had this weekend was a lot more exciting (really? you say. More exciting than discussing accounting errors? Oh Internets, I know it is hard to keep up with my thrilling life over here. But seriously, wait for it...) - his bank was robbed! Personally, the last word that I would use to describe the situation is 'shocking' but I'll let you judge. The bank office where we had our checking accounts and safe deposit box has been closed for renovations for the last few months. This branch is near B's office so I hadn't seen it until a few weeks ago when we drove by in the car. B pointed out the window and said 'Look at how safe they keep our money...' The front wall of the bank had been removed and was replaced by... plywood. You know, thin flimsy pressboard. Can be snapped in half by a hefty toddler jumping on it in the middle. Well, apparently, they had moved the front desk part to another location down the street and just weren't terribly worried about the safe deposit boxes so plywood was considered sufficient protection from the bad guys. Geez- I don't even think that plywood is sufficient protection from strong wind, but you know, thats just me. I asked him if had left anything in the safe and he said yes. I said that I hoped it wasn't anything important because personally, that wall of plywood didn't reassure me much. And I guess I was right because Sunday morning, B stopped by his office to pick up something and he saw firemen and police all over the bank- or I should say, former bank. There had been a fire. Set by the bank robbers, who broke into the safe. B called me right away and he was practically in hysterics because the police wouldn't tell him anything. Again, I can't say that I was at all shocked and I pointed out that if the fire was only caught at 8 or 9 on Sunday morning, it was probably only set a bit before (its right on avenue de l'opera and there are lots of people around even early on Sunday morning so it couldn't have burned for very long). That would mean that the robbers had probably been in the bank all night and had had plenty of time to get in all the safe deposit boxes. It was probably a safe bet that whatever he had in there was gone. Well, we spend the rest of the day, on practically on hourly basis, having this same discussion over and over and OVER again. He tried phoning up this morning and the staff at the replacement office didn't even know that there had been a break-in. Oh, French people and their great attitude of 'Whatever. Not my problem.'
At least I can't complain about not getting enough sleep this weekend. I'm not saying that I couldn't have slept for hours more each morning but atleast there were no noisy neighbors to wake me and the time change totally worked in our favor. Tonight will be the real test, but last night Georgia was in bed at 8:30 (a bit later than usual due to the time change and a late nap) and didn't wake until 6:45. I managed to settle her back to sleep til 7:15, when I gave her a bottle and when she was done and had woken us up by banging her bottle against the bars on her crib (honestly, she finally wakes up happy one day and do we get to hear her cooing in bed? No. Its like waking up to an episode of Prison Break.) Despite the noise, this is magical. People, seriously, a Full Nights Sleep. Even if she did wake me up at a very critical point in my dream about hanging out with Brad Pitt and our kids in the park ( we were exchanging very longing looks but I refused to kiss him because Angie would shoot daggers at me each morning before she left for the movie set and I was afraid of the paparazzi taking a photo of it. Don't know where B was during all this. Perhaps at the bank, sifting through safe deposit ashes? Anyways, best dream I've had in AGES. But also kind of random since the scraggy goatee Brad's rocking right now is actually pretty gross. )
I guess I'll just keep working backwards. Saturday night got sort of screwed up since I was supposed to go out with an old uni friend in town for the weekend but we got our wires crossed and I ended up with a babysitter and no place to go. I told B that after my hellish afternoon of hangover + kids birthday party (boy, kids sure like popping balloons, don't they?), I was bound and determined to ditch the kids for a few hours of quiet adult company. He made reservations at the Thai place at the Village St Paul and we had a lovely dinner, discussing a dream vacation inspired by my brother and his sailing adventure. We are going to fly to Panama, get on a sailboat and sail to the Galapagos Islands, where we can spend a week diving and hiking and visiting stuff. Can't wait. The nice thing about B is that once he gets an idea in his head, he won't let it drop (OK, full disclosure; this is also the most irritating thing about him. Funny how that works, isn't it?). I was teasing him this morning when he asked me to cross my fingers and say a pray for him, since he was off to the bank to see about things. I told him that I would be praying hard because if everything turned out fine, he would be so excited that I would be able to book an awesome vacation for May; but if he got bad news, I didn't have a snowball chance in hell of going anywhere til the fall because he would nix all my ideas simply on principal (the principal being that people who are robbed don't have money for vacation. Never mind that the stuff in the safe has nothing to do with our finances...)
Friday night, I had my weekly girls night out which was fab. I am sad all over again about my friend who moved home to the Netherlands. She is so lovely and I realize more and more that she was sort of the corner stone of our group of friends. You know how there is often the person who is the connection between different groups? And without that person, no one is the catalyst to get different people together? Its funny how it works out; I talk to all these people when I bump into them on the street or in the shops or at the school gate, but the only time that we go out is when Hestor is around. Hmm. So dinner was fun although we went to Chez Janou to eat. I don't know. Lots of people love that place but I think it is a pain. First of all, the no seating til your whole group arrives is ridiculous because the bar area is like a cattle pen from 8 til 8:30. The guy that runs the place is obnoxious, even though he sort of acts like its just his schtick. Ugh. The Rude French Waiter act is maybe funny for tourists, but I'm so over it. Just whatever, ignore me or bring my dinner but don't harrass me, please. Thank goodness that I was too drunk at the end of the meal to care about the tip. I think I paid 7 euro too much and I hope that one of my girlfriends too the change. It would kill me to think that I left it as a tip for that meal. The food was fine, don't get me wrong, it just wasn't great. Anyways, I think i like that place better in the summer when you can sit outside on the terrasse.
That reminds me, while talking about restaurants. On Sunday afternoon, while strolling through the Marais with the girls, we decided to stop for a coffee. That whole area around rue Francs Bourgeois was just heaving, per the usual, so I decided that we should head up rue Turenne a bit to find somewhere less busy. We went into Le Cafe de Deux Musees and it was fantastic! I had been there ages ago and sort of forgot how nice it was. We ordered the apple tart (mainly because the waiter said that was all that they had left...) and it must have been just out of the oven as it was still warm. It was honestly just so gorgeous that it immediately went to the number one spot on my list of Best Tarts Ever. So yummy. The wait staff were all really nice and cheeky (take note, Chez Janou, there is a difference between cheeky and rude). The salle is nice and old-fashioned. And the regular menu looked nice and well-priced. We took the card and hopefully we'll remember to go there for one of our mid-week, low-key date nights. I am on a mission to find some new restos in our neighborhood because we have gotten into such a rut and then last week, it started raining as we wandered around looking for a place to eat and we ended up in a very sub-par place just off place St Catherine. Ok, it got is in and out of the rain which was our main goal at that point but the food was abysmal. Oh well. I guess that I've learned my lesson- never go out on a warm evening in March and expect to have all night to stroll around and find a nice place to eat. Unless you left the house with an umbrella.
I'm also going to try Au Petit Marche on rue Bearn. One of my girlfriends recommended it and its also close by so I'll post a review as soon as I get around to eating at all of these places. It shouldn't be too long. The warm weather, and Georgia's improved sleeping habits, have made me antsy to get out of the house more often. I think I might even need to go have a look through Craigslist to see if I can't find a nice American student looking to pick up a few hours of babysitting.
A have a few minutes before I need to go and get Georgia from garderie so I am going to make a real To Do list and try and be a bit productive this week. I am embarrassed at my lack of motivation lately. In fact, I am so embarrassed about it that I won't even go into the details. Lets just say that its amazing that I manage to leave the house fully dressed.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Turkey, 2008
"Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as as well be your own instead of someone elses."
-Billy Wilder.
Right now my instinct is to get the hell out of Dodge and go on vacation. Preferably on a boat. Where there is lots of sun and an endless supply of fruity cocktails. Maybe I should join these guys?
If only my instincts and my bank account could sit down together and figure out how to make this happen...
Monday, January 18, 2010
A very productive weekend
Despite having spent the weekend fighting off a cold, I actually got lots done. I suppose that it what happens when you are stuck in the house for hours on end and can't go out and waste time on pointless errands. Exactly what I needed.
Now, the number one task on the to-do list was the ski holiday. Booked! B extended an olive branch (after laughing heartily at my suggestion that I fly with the two girls to Phoenix , "15 hours on a plane? For fun? Sounds like a great vacation. Feel free to book the tickets." Ok, maybe that was such a brilliant idea after all...) and called his stepmom to see if she would babysit Georgia while we were skiing. She said that she would be glad to and that immediately made planning so much easier. Then B told me that he had spoken to his SIL who suggested La Clusaz as a really family friendly ski station. I actually trust her advice, so I looked on line, we found some really nice hotels that do demi-pension and had pools/spas, and B immediately phoned up to check for vacancies. In a half hour, it was sorted. Ahhh. Now all that remains is the small question of packing our bags- of course, I realized that Ella has no snow gear so this afternoon I am off to try and buy a ski suit. I don't have a jacket this year so I also have to do some hunting. I was thinking of one of these from Alex Mabille for Pyrenex, but I need to try one on before I can really decide. Despite being from a cold climate (or maybe because of it, I suppose) its hard for me to work up enthusiasm for snow sports and the clothing it involves. Now, bikini/sunhat/beach bag shopping, that is stuff I can get behind.
Only one hiccup- I realized, once we had it all sorted out that we would be gone on Georgia's first birthday. Does that make me a HORRIBLE mother or just a horrible mother? We are going to try and fix this somehow but as B pointed out, Georgia won't know the difference if we celebrate a day late. Good point. Why doesn't that make me feel better?
The next big job that I promised to do was the photo albums. Well, I made good progress, but there are ALOT of photos. Even more than I thought there were. I finished up album #4 and am well into album #5, but I still have a stack of photos 2 inches high that need to be stuck in the book. That can't be more than 75 photos, right? 100, tops. Slim possibility that it is actually 150 and I don't dare count or I may have to kill myself. And this is only for Ella. Then I have to do my album, which is much smaller project, and finally, get started on Georgia's. Dios Mio.
I did continue with my cupboard clean-up/out. I attacked my make-up bag. Small in size, big in irritation factor since everyday involves digging around and getting my hands covered in purple powder from that one time an eyeshadow lid came off. I swiped an organizer out of B's nightstand- it was supposed to be for electronics but he never used it and it looked just the right size for me. I wiped everything down and fit it in to the little compartments. Success! And can I just tell me what secret joy I get every morning when I pull it out of the cupboard, all the little pots arranged neatly in rows, the lipsticks ready to grab with my spotlessly clean hands. Ahhh. Its the small pleasures that make life worth living.
Meanwhile, Georgia makes sure that is one step forward, two steps back... Photos to follow.
Now, the number one task on the to-do list was the ski holiday. Booked! B extended an olive branch (after laughing heartily at my suggestion that I fly with the two girls to Phoenix , "15 hours on a plane? For fun? Sounds like a great vacation. Feel free to book the tickets." Ok, maybe that was such a brilliant idea after all...) and called his stepmom to see if she would babysit Georgia while we were skiing. She said that she would be glad to and that immediately made planning so much easier. Then B told me that he had spoken to his SIL who suggested La Clusaz as a really family friendly ski station. I actually trust her advice, so I looked on line, we found some really nice hotels that do demi-pension and had pools/spas, and B immediately phoned up to check for vacancies. In a half hour, it was sorted. Ahhh. Now all that remains is the small question of packing our bags- of course, I realized that Ella has no snow gear so this afternoon I am off to try and buy a ski suit. I don't have a jacket this year so I also have to do some hunting. I was thinking of one of these from Alex Mabille for Pyrenex, but I need to try one on before I can really decide. Despite being from a cold climate (or maybe because of it, I suppose) its hard for me to work up enthusiasm for snow sports and the clothing it involves. Now, bikini/sunhat/beach bag shopping, that is stuff I can get behind.
Only one hiccup- I realized, once we had it all sorted out that we would be gone on Georgia's first birthday. Does that make me a HORRIBLE mother or just a horrible mother? We are going to try and fix this somehow but as B pointed out, Georgia won't know the difference if we celebrate a day late. Good point. Why doesn't that make me feel better?
The next big job that I promised to do was the photo albums. Well, I made good progress, but there are ALOT of photos. Even more than I thought there were. I finished up album #4 and am well into album #5, but I still have a stack of photos 2 inches high that need to be stuck in the book. That can't be more than 75 photos, right? 100, tops. Slim possibility that it is actually 150 and I don't dare count or I may have to kill myself. And this is only for Ella. Then I have to do my album, which is much smaller project, and finally, get started on Georgia's. Dios Mio.
I did continue with my cupboard clean-up/out. I attacked my make-up bag. Small in size, big in irritation factor since everyday involves digging around and getting my hands covered in purple powder from that one time an eyeshadow lid came off. I swiped an organizer out of B's nightstand- it was supposed to be for electronics but he never used it and it looked just the right size for me. I wiped everything down and fit it in to the little compartments. Success! And can I just tell me what secret joy I get every morning when I pull it out of the cupboard, all the little pots arranged neatly in rows, the lipsticks ready to grab with my spotlessly clean hands. Ahhh. Its the small pleasures that make life worth living.
Meanwhile, Georgia makes sure that is one step forward, two steps back... Photos to follow.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Ski holidays
We all seem to be more or less healthy again so now I have really got to get on top of this ski vacation and book something. Technically, I did tell B that I was done with being his personal travel agent after he changed the dates on me AGAIN. To borrow a line from Charlie Brown, I wanted to knock his block off. Honestly, he does this to me every single time. He tells me a date that he is free but doesn't write it on the calendar at work, so without fail, someone else books their holiday and then one day, as I am running through the details that I have sorted out, he casually mentions that the date I'm basing it all on is no longer any good for him. ARG.
When he did it to me two days ago, I flew off the handle and said to just forget about the entire vacation, in that case. I had spoken to my mom early in the day and she really wants us all to fly out to Phoenix in February or March and meet them. Now that they are practically retired, they are going to spend 6 weeks out in the sun and they are begging me to come and visit with the girls. How tempting. A bit of sun, a babysitter, Bravo tv... I told B that instead of starting all over with the stupid ski plans, I would just book airline tickets for a flight to Phoenix and be done with it.
But then I thought it over. If I think he is being such a jerk, what kind of punishment is it for me to save him money by not booking an expensive vacation, instead giving him two weeks of calm at home while I wrestle with two kids on an international flight? Basically, I would only be punishing myself. So, my new plan is to book the ski holiday outside of the vacance scolaire and maybe still take the trip to Phoenix with the girls while Ella is off school. Tickets are really cheap for February, although the flight is minimum 14 hours. Yikes.
Only, that means that I still have to find a hotel for a ski holiday....
Geez, I don't know why I am being such a baby about this. I just have to book a hotel. B, in a peace gesture, said that I could book anything I wanted, anywhere I wanted. I bumped into a good friend of mine yesterday who is Swiss and she suggested Villars-sur-Ollon as a great family ski station in Switzerland. It does look nice, but it also looks like it would be difficult for us to drive to. I found a really nice family hotel in Courcheval but I need to verify on the map where exactly Courcheval is (I have to admit that I am BAD at French geography). B suggested Avoriaz, but I think that is only because his brother said that we should go to Avoriaz.
And then I was thinking Meribel, because whenever we go to Tignes or Val d'Isere, we pass the turnoff for Meribel hours* before we reach our destination and each time, I think to myself, "Meribel is supposed to be nice. We should just stop here."
I just need to decide something. I promise, tomorrow, I will have this done.
In totally unrelated news, the sun was finally shining today, allowing me to escape the house for a few hours with Georgia. I don't know which of us needed it more. I walked all over as I had a few little errands that I had been putting off so long as the temp was in the negatives. I bought Georgia a pair of shoes. Aren't they cute? They are from the boutique Filament on rue de Lesdiguières in the 4th, just off the Bastille. They also sell fur liners to put inside, which turns them into the sweetest little winter boots but, unsurprisingly, Georgia's feet were too big to fit in the shoe with a liner so I ended up just getting the shoe. She already had a pair in Liberty print when she was tiny but I've always loved the ones in the metallic leather. After making the poor vendeuse empty the cupboard to show me all the colors they had in this size, I chose these in a color called mauve, although they look a bit more lavendar to me. If you are ever in the neighborhood, this is a shop worth stopping by. They have a great selection of kids toys and clothes. The dress-up costumes are amazing. The soft toys that they have are also incredibly unique. I just always find something here that I love.
On the way home, I dropped into Papier+ for another photo album for Ella. I have taken over the dining room table, spreading out all the photos in chronological order so it was rather irritating to realize that there were only 5 pages left in the last album. I refuse to pick up the mess, because once its out of sight, back in the boxes, I'm sure it will be months before I manage to get at it again. No, no. I just have to push through and get this done. Now that I have another album, it should be done by the end of the weekend. Once the girls are in bed, I can normally get a lot done. Now if only, I could find a nice album for Georgia... No matter how hard I try not to let things slip for baby number 2, I can see that I am not taking nearly as many photos as I did with Ella (which is frankly a good thing, no kid needs thousands of photos of themselves). Don't get me wrong, its not like her life has gone undocumented its just that my standards are a bit higher. She can't just sit there being cute, like Ella, she's got to actually do something. Thats setting the bar pretty high for a kid that can't even roll over yet... (Crazy but true. I've never seen her roll over, although I have found her in bed on her tummy once or twice, so I guess she can do it. But, on the other hand, she's almost walking on her own. )
I don't why I'm still typing. I've got a To Do list a mile long and no babysitter today. Lets see if I can actually make a decision and cross something of that list.
*Ok, well, not actually hours. But that last little bit of twisty turny driving really feels like takes as long as the autoroute part, Paris to Albertville.
When he did it to me two days ago, I flew off the handle and said to just forget about the entire vacation, in that case. I had spoken to my mom early in the day and she really wants us all to fly out to Phoenix in February or March and meet them. Now that they are practically retired, they are going to spend 6 weeks out in the sun and they are begging me to come and visit with the girls. How tempting. A bit of sun, a babysitter, Bravo tv... I told B that instead of starting all over with the stupid ski plans, I would just book airline tickets for a flight to Phoenix and be done with it.
But then I thought it over. If I think he is being such a jerk, what kind of punishment is it for me to save him money by not booking an expensive vacation, instead giving him two weeks of calm at home while I wrestle with two kids on an international flight? Basically, I would only be punishing myself. So, my new plan is to book the ski holiday outside of the vacance scolaire and maybe still take the trip to Phoenix with the girls while Ella is off school. Tickets are really cheap for February, although the flight is minimum 14 hours. Yikes.
Only, that means that I still have to find a hotel for a ski holiday....
Geez, I don't know why I am being such a baby about this. I just have to book a hotel. B, in a peace gesture, said that I could book anything I wanted, anywhere I wanted. I bumped into a good friend of mine yesterday who is Swiss and she suggested Villars-sur-Ollon as a great family ski station in Switzerland. It does look nice, but it also looks like it would be difficult for us to drive to. I found a really nice family hotel in Courcheval but I need to verify on the map where exactly Courcheval is (I have to admit that I am BAD at French geography). B suggested Avoriaz, but I think that is only because his brother said that we should go to Avoriaz.
And then I was thinking Meribel, because whenever we go to Tignes or Val d'Isere, we pass the turnoff for Meribel hours* before we reach our destination and each time, I think to myself, "Meribel is supposed to be nice. We should just stop here."
I just need to decide something. I promise, tomorrow, I will have this done.
In totally unrelated news, the sun was finally shining today, allowing me to escape the house for a few hours with Georgia. I don't know which of us needed it more. I walked all over as I had a few little errands that I had been putting off so long as the temp was in the negatives. I bought Georgia a pair of shoes. Aren't they cute? They are from the boutique Filament on rue de Lesdiguières in the 4th, just off the Bastille. They also sell fur liners to put inside, which turns them into the sweetest little winter boots but, unsurprisingly, Georgia's feet were too big to fit in the shoe with a liner so I ended up just getting the shoe. She already had a pair in Liberty print when she was tiny but I've always loved the ones in the metallic leather. After making the poor vendeuse empty the cupboard to show me all the colors they had in this size, I chose these in a color called mauve, although they look a bit more lavendar to me. If you are ever in the neighborhood, this is a shop worth stopping by. They have a great selection of kids toys and clothes. The dress-up costumes are amazing. The soft toys that they have are also incredibly unique. I just always find something here that I love.
On the way home, I dropped into Papier+ for another photo album for Ella. I have taken over the dining room table, spreading out all the photos in chronological order so it was rather irritating to realize that there were only 5 pages left in the last album. I refuse to pick up the mess, because once its out of sight, back in the boxes, I'm sure it will be months before I manage to get at it again. No, no. I just have to push through and get this done. Now that I have another album, it should be done by the end of the weekend. Once the girls are in bed, I can normally get a lot done. Now if only, I could find a nice album for Georgia... No matter how hard I try not to let things slip for baby number 2, I can see that I am not taking nearly as many photos as I did with Ella (which is frankly a good thing, no kid needs thousands of photos of themselves). Don't get me wrong, its not like her life has gone undocumented its just that my standards are a bit higher. She can't just sit there being cute, like Ella, she's got to actually do something. Thats setting the bar pretty high for a kid that can't even roll over yet... (Crazy but true. I've never seen her roll over, although I have found her in bed on her tummy once or twice, so I guess she can do it. But, on the other hand, she's almost walking on her own. )
I don't why I'm still typing. I've got a To Do list a mile long and no babysitter today. Lets see if I can actually make a decision and cross something of that list.
*Ok, well, not actually hours. But that last little bit of twisty turny driving really feels like takes as long as the autoroute part, Paris to Albertville.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Summer in Wisconsin
I really thought I had posted a message since we arrived- I guess I dreamed it? Weird. In that message I said that we had a good flight and were given seats together as we checked in at the gate. The plane left an hour and half late but we were off the plane and out of customs a half hour before my ride arrived at the airport (but then, in my 17 years of flying home I've learned to appreciate the baggage claim coffee bar...) Jetlag was once again a non-issue for Ella, which i never stop being grateful for. While waiting at immigration, I saw a woman who reminded me how lucky I am to have Ella who is an excellent traveller and also, how wise I am to have mastered the basics of international travel. This poor woman had 2 kids, one of whom was in a full scale meltdown and rolling around on the floor, but she was blinded by dry contacts and buried under a mountain of carry-on luggage. Clearly, she was not savvy to the Number One Rule of Travel:
1. Never travel with more luggage than you can carry yourself.
And that means counting children when the case warrants. Seriously, who in their right mind would travel with 4 small open tote bags, ie luggage that is impossible to set down without spilling out all over the floor? Here is some unsollicited advice- if you are travelling with children, a backpack is your friend. With any luck, you have a device to strap your non-walking child to your front. Your gear is all on your back. Then you have two free hands and the ability to manage two large wheely bags (checked prior to departure to verify that all wheels are fully functional). Voila- disaster averted, even if you have a screaming child and no luggage carts. Or you are suddenly required during a transfer to check your luggage in a distant terminal accessible only by slow moving walkway (true story). Sure, you can tell yourself that surely some kindly stranger will come along to help but in my experience a nervous breakdown normally finds you first. I will repack my bags three, four times to get to a point where I have reduced my luggage to a manageable amount. If its one thing that parenthood has taught me, its survival techniques. Only the fast and the strong survive.
So, it seemed like as soon as we arrived we were thrown into the thick of things, with all the 4th of July festivities. We got to enjoy my absolute fav bit of Americana- the Winter, WI 4th of July parade. Its the high school marching band, in their ridiculously hot woolen uniforms playing 'Play that Funky Music White Boy'; its the Little League team showing off their league champions trophy; its the Festival Queen in a neon pink polyester dress sitting on a hay wagon doing that silly pageant wave, its little kids dashing into the street to pick up candy thrown from the fire truck and nearly dying of fright when the Chief turns on the horns. I love every bit of it. And, of course, its twice as nice to bump into people I know and didn't expect to see- because its a small town so of course you see a million people you know. I love that I sit down, expecting to eat my sauerkraut covered brat alone at a picnic table, and end up sharing a plate of cheese curds with three of my aunts (and some strange, quiet man that plunked himself down right in the middle of us and we all thought was related to someone else). I love that the band playing Oldies Rock music all afternoon is a bunch of middle-schoolers, one of whom is a Chinese girl who is definitely shorter than her bass guitar is long.
Sadly, after a dinner of taco salade for about three times as many people as there were chairs in the house (another thing that I get weirdly sentimental about), I only managed to stay awake for the little fireworks at the house. The whole extended family, loaded down with bug spray and wool blankets, piled into cars to go see the town fireworks and 'oooh' and 'ahhh' while laying on the baseball field. I volunteered to stay home with the babies who were already asleep. When our neighbors decided to start setting off some major fireworks at 10:30, I jumped out of bed to close the window but, in my haste, failed to notice that there was a painting balanced on the top of the window, holding down a blanket to make it extra dark in the room. The picture came silently shooting down the blanket ramp while I tried to jiggle the window closed, hitting me smack on the bridge of my nose. So there I am in the dark, stiffling my screams so as to not wake the two sleeping children in the room, trying to get myself out from under the blanket while keeping the blood gushing out of my nose from getting all over everything- a bit of trick in the pitch black in a room set up like a obstacle course. I don't think I have ever had a bloody nose so this was quite an introduction. The blood stopped quickly enough but I swear I think that I really broke something. Its a week later and when I wash my face, I get a weird pressure down near my lip and my nose is super cracky if I wiggle the end. Thats not good, right?
So anyways, we have had beautiful gorgeous summer weather every single day. I am even counting the rainy weather because when it did finally rain, it was the most spectacular high-wind lightening storm that woke me in the middle of the night with the all the howling through the trees that was going on. We get woken up every morning by the flocks of birds peep-peep-peeping outside our windows (which is a nice change from being awoken in Paris by the garbage truck, but seriously, birds, can we take it down a notch or two?) When we drove into the driveway to our country house last week, I think Ella thought she had stumbled into a scene from a Disney film. First we had to stop so that a momma deer and her twin spotted bambis could get across the road. Then as we stepped out of the car, two squirrels jumped out of a tree and had some chattery little argument over a pine cone. And as we walked up to the door, a robin sitting on a post, sang us a little song before lazily flying away. Seriously, if a couple of dwarfs came whistling around the corner, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash.
All in all, I am so happy that we bailed out of Paris when we did. This is what summer holidays are supposed to be like. Ella has completely adapted to all the freedom she has to run around, in and out of the house with minimal supervision. I have seen my stress-level drop due the fact that I feel like a have a bit of space to breathe. It feels so nice to be out of that little rabbit cage we call an apartment! I'm already wondering how B is going to manage to drag us onto the airplane in the fall...
1. Never travel with more luggage than you can carry yourself.
And that means counting children when the case warrants. Seriously, who in their right mind would travel with 4 small open tote bags, ie luggage that is impossible to set down without spilling out all over the floor? Here is some unsollicited advice- if you are travelling with children, a backpack is your friend. With any luck, you have a device to strap your non-walking child to your front. Your gear is all on your back. Then you have two free hands and the ability to manage two large wheely bags (checked prior to departure to verify that all wheels are fully functional). Voila- disaster averted, even if you have a screaming child and no luggage carts. Or you are suddenly required during a transfer to check your luggage in a distant terminal accessible only by slow moving walkway (true story). Sure, you can tell yourself that surely some kindly stranger will come along to help but in my experience a nervous breakdown normally finds you first. I will repack my bags three, four times to get to a point where I have reduced my luggage to a manageable amount. If its one thing that parenthood has taught me, its survival techniques. Only the fast and the strong survive.
So, it seemed like as soon as we arrived we were thrown into the thick of things, with all the 4th of July festivities. We got to enjoy my absolute fav bit of Americana- the Winter, WI 4th of July parade. Its the high school marching band, in their ridiculously hot woolen uniforms playing 'Play that Funky Music White Boy'; its the Little League team showing off their league champions trophy; its the Festival Queen in a neon pink polyester dress sitting on a hay wagon doing that silly pageant wave, its little kids dashing into the street to pick up candy thrown from the fire truck and nearly dying of fright when the Chief turns on the horns. I love every bit of it. And, of course, its twice as nice to bump into people I know and didn't expect to see- because its a small town so of course you see a million people you know. I love that I sit down, expecting to eat my sauerkraut covered brat alone at a picnic table, and end up sharing a plate of cheese curds with three of my aunts (and some strange, quiet man that plunked himself down right in the middle of us and we all thought was related to someone else). I love that the band playing Oldies Rock music all afternoon is a bunch of middle-schoolers, one of whom is a Chinese girl who is definitely shorter than her bass guitar is long.
Sadly, after a dinner of taco salade for about three times as many people as there were chairs in the house (another thing that I get weirdly sentimental about), I only managed to stay awake for the little fireworks at the house. The whole extended family, loaded down with bug spray and wool blankets, piled into cars to go see the town fireworks and 'oooh' and 'ahhh' while laying on the baseball field. I volunteered to stay home with the babies who were already asleep. When our neighbors decided to start setting off some major fireworks at 10:30, I jumped out of bed to close the window but, in my haste, failed to notice that there was a painting balanced on the top of the window, holding down a blanket to make it extra dark in the room. The picture came silently shooting down the blanket ramp while I tried to jiggle the window closed, hitting me smack on the bridge of my nose. So there I am in the dark, stiffling my screams so as to not wake the two sleeping children in the room, trying to get myself out from under the blanket while keeping the blood gushing out of my nose from getting all over everything- a bit of trick in the pitch black in a room set up like a obstacle course. I don't think I have ever had a bloody nose so this was quite an introduction. The blood stopped quickly enough but I swear I think that I really broke something. Its a week later and when I wash my face, I get a weird pressure down near my lip and my nose is super cracky if I wiggle the end. Thats not good, right?
So anyways, we have had beautiful gorgeous summer weather every single day. I am even counting the rainy weather because when it did finally rain, it was the most spectacular high-wind lightening storm that woke me in the middle of the night with the all the howling through the trees that was going on. We get woken up every morning by the flocks of birds peep-peep-peeping outside our windows (which is a nice change from being awoken in Paris by the garbage truck, but seriously, birds, can we take it down a notch or two?) When we drove into the driveway to our country house last week, I think Ella thought she had stumbled into a scene from a Disney film. First we had to stop so that a momma deer and her twin spotted bambis could get across the road. Then as we stepped out of the car, two squirrels jumped out of a tree and had some chattery little argument over a pine cone. And as we walked up to the door, a robin sitting on a post, sang us a little song before lazily flying away. Seriously, if a couple of dwarfs came whistling around the corner, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash.
All in all, I am so happy that we bailed out of Paris when we did. This is what summer holidays are supposed to be like. Ella has completely adapted to all the freedom she has to run around, in and out of the house with minimal supervision. I have seen my stress-level drop due the fact that I feel like a have a bit of space to breathe. It feels so nice to be out of that little rabbit cage we call an apartment! I'm already wondering how B is going to manage to drag us onto the airplane in the fall...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
sorry about the long break
Lent snuck up on me this year and for several reasons, I decided that I needed to have my Lenten efforts be directed towards taking a break from the computer. I only allowed myself a half hour a day on the computer (including emailing), no blogs, no games. I think it was really good for me. In any case, it needed to be done just so that I could prove to myself that I can live with out the internet. I had started to wonder if it was even possible anymore.
I wish I could say that I got tons done in the free time that I gained, but actually, I didn't launch myself into any particular project. Stuff happened, of course, but you would think that all that extra time would have allowed me to end third world hunger or carve a replica of Mount Rushmore, or I don't know, find a job but it just didn't happen.
God- what did I do with my time?!? I know I thought that I was busy so let me bullet point, for maximum effect:
-The first big event, and what contributed to my blogging hiatus, was The Haircut That Nearly Destroyed My Will To Live. Last year in November I let my regular haircutter give me a radically shorter cut. It was cute but I didn't think it was perfect so when I got a recommendation for a really awesome new place in the 6th, I thought I would try it. It was more expensive than what I normally pay, but I figured that short haircuts are harder and it would be worth it. So I made an appointment for a cut and a color. I ended up showing up about 15 minutes late because I got lost getting there. I guess that they were a bit irritated because of that and didn't start on me for another 20 minutes. I pointed out more than once that I absolutely had to leave at 5 to get my daughter from daycare and they said no problem. Except it ended up being a huge problem. The guy rushed through my cut and when I got home I was horrified. It wasn't even the same length on both sides of my head. It seriously looked like the cut I gave my Malibu Barbie with a pair of cuticle scissors back when I was 8. All lumpy and sticky-uppy and weird. Maybe 'short bus' is the adjective I'm looking for? Anyways, I called back and was like 'Dude, you have got to fix this.' No problem he said, come in right away. And clearly I belong on the short bus, because I went back and let him cut my hair a second time. All that happened is that I had a different terrible haircut, only this time I had almost no hair left on my head so there was no fixing it. I think I can honestly say that this was the worst haircut I had ever had- and ironically, it was also the most expensive. I wore alot of hats for the next couple weeks (thank god for the miserably cold spring we had here in Paris) and then I crawled back on my knees to my regular guy, who fixed with his wonderfully talented hands. It was still horribly short but atleast I no longer look like an escapee from Cell Block 8. I'm due for another haircut next week, so I think I can officially put this horrible horrible experience behind me. But remember the morale of the story- never cheat on your hairdresser or you will be walking around for two months with the folical equivalent of the Scarlet Letter.
-Celebrated Ella's 3rd birthday. Oh yeah, that was pretty big. Will definitely do a photo post because it was so awesome and a very lovely friend of mine brought her photographer husband along to immortalize the event so I have a ton of great photos.
-Celebrated my birthday in serious style. Honestly, I was pretty surprised that it turned out so fabulous because normally I insist on being on vacay when I blow out my candlesand this was the first time in years I spent my B-day in Paris. The beginning of March is such a shitty time to be hanging around Paris. Everything is grey, the sky, the buildings, everyone's clothing, my skin, my attitude- and it just makes you want to put a gun to your head but then also taking time to remind yourself about how old you are getting? Recipe for disaster. This year, somehow, the vacation just didn't happen (now I remember- we kept talking about different plans, I would spend something like 10 or 12 hours organizing things and then just before I booked it all, B would say, "Actually, I really feel like doing that..." This year, the gun was pointing in his direction) and my birthday was probably one of the best. B took off at lunch to come and take care of Ella so I had a nice long bath and then skipped off to the salon to get pampered, I got dressed up and met my girlfriends at a sexy new Champagne bar that I highly recommend (cucumber/melon champagne cocktail- so nice!), then B came and picked me up to whisk me off to dinner at Les Ombres for a fantastic meal watching the lights twinkle on the Eiffel Tour. Perfection.
-My birthday present was a new painting from our favorite galerie and one of our favorite artists, Pietropoli. If you look on the site for Pietropoli, it is Tableau 2 under work 2007-2008 but I can't link to that screen. I love this painting and the nicest thing is that after the vernissage, we went to dinner with the galerie owner and the artist and I was able to talk to him for ages about the painting we bought and his other work. Of course, we still haven't hung the painting because we don't have any place to put it, but that is just a detail. I'm sure one day we'll be the lucky owners of a house with enough wall space for all this art, so I just have to be patient.
-I spent 5 days in NYC with one of my best best girlfriends and had an awesome time, as I always do. Of course, this girlfriend is so motivated and ambitious that even in her unemployed state, she puts me to shame. She had just gotten back from hiking in the Guatmalan jungle, looking at artifacts and skeletal remains in caves. She keeps her Facebook page totally updated. She was at the gym everyday, and to top it all off, is currently planning on hiking to Mount Everest Base Camp. Hmm. I was feeling pretty good about having cleaned out my closets up until I spent a week with her. Still, so nice to have some time away from B and Ella even though I did end up missing them tons by the end. The highlights of this trip were picking out the tiles for the kitchen when I visited the Ann Sacks shop, buying a beautiful dress at Rebecca Taylor, which was destroyed in its first wash (oops), going nuts in the Jonathan Adler boutique (if only I had brought two suitcases!!), and then missing my flight home... Lucky for me, I have a ton of airmiles and managed to get on a flight the next day but I can tell you that for a few minutes there, it was looking like this was going to be the most expensive weekend in NYC in the history of weekends. Well, as far as my husband was concerned, anyways.
-Before destroying my new dress, I wore it to an amazing party on a yacht moored at quai Henri IV, just a short hop from our apartment. It was the weirdest thing- a girlfriend called me up at around 7 on a Sat evening and asked if I wanted to go to this party with her that same night. I was free and it was close by so I was in, but still, I asked her for some details. Who was giving the party? She didn't really know. Uhm, who invited her? Well, a girlfriend of hers, but it was still really confusing as to how this other girl got the invite. Ooo-kay. Well, then, what was the party for? Should we bring something along? No no, just show up early so we didn't have to do the boat cruise down the Seine. Its not the first time she dragged me along to some dodgy party but I hadn't been out in awhile so I said yes. Well, it was the best party with a live jazz band followed by an awesome DJ. There was open bar/champagne all night long and really really nice nibbly food. Everyone was gorgeous and rich (judging by the clothes anyways). And no one had any idea who was throwing the party. I stayed until nearly 2 and the main table, being guarded by two enormous bouncer/security type guys, was empty the entire time. Rumor had it that it was a party thrown by some Saudi prince. Who knows.
-I went back to the States suddenly because my grandfather died. Maybe I'll write more about that later but for now, I'll just say that it was fantastic to be able to go back for everything and in the end Ella and I had a really nice little holiday with my family. Even managed to get my mom's mountain of old photos sorted out. The task of putting them into albums is not going to be done for years, I would imagine, but even getting this far feels like a major accomplishment. If you had any idea of the hell I have been going through every year putting together the annual Photo Calendar for my parents, you would know that this will change my life. Or atleast improve the two weeks before Christmas, time I have normally spent rifling through drawers and boxes and old half-filled albums.
-B launched himself into a new home improvement project while I was away and changed our wood floor with a new one. It looks great and it was a huge job for him to clear out our house, all by himself, and then put everything back again, so I really appreciate it. BUT there is still painting and stuff that hasns't been done following the kitchen building work. I am tearing my hair out!!! We have piles of paint cans on the floor in our bedroom. There are boards and a set of shelves piled in the corner of Ella's room. The ladder has to be moved continually from one resting spot to the next. Tools are jammed under tables and in corners. B has a dozen plastic bowls scattered around, holding things like kitchen switch plates, bedroom door knobs, screws that need to be put in some particular place, etc. I tried to be very excited about the new floor but inside I was screaming "When are the ?/§%µ* kitchen renovation project going to end?!!??" I am guessing, possibly, it will happen before 2009 but I wouldn't put money on it.
-And I have just wound up the planning of our big spring vacation which looks like it is gbing to be AMAZING; two weeks in Turkey to celebrate my Dad's 60th birthday. We are in a beautiful little boutique hotel in Istanbul for a few days so we can see the sights before flying down to the Mediterranean coast for a Blue Cruise on a lovely private yacht, followed by a week in a villa in a charming and remote village from which we can visit all the great archealogical sites in the area. Seriously, how awesome is this trip going to be? The planning nearly did my head in, the days and days it took to sort everything out, but I really insist on staying in beautiful places and I don't (can't) spend a fortune. Its always possible to meet those two criteria but naturally all the best places are booked early so I had to google hard to find good stuff and you really have to have no shame re:haggling for the best price. It takes time though. I really ought to start adding a bit on my CV about my talents as a travel agent considering the amount of time and energy I put into planning our holidays.
So there it is, all up to date. Now, that I am over my bloggers' block, hopefully I can get back to regular updating. Once Easter ended, I wanted to start writing but it seemed like there was so much to talk about that I didn't know where to start. I also hired a new babysitter yesterday, someone to come during the day and take Ella for a few hours so that I can go to the gym and get some bigger projects done. This should also give me the time to do a bit of writing. I had been really dragging the last week or so, feeling overwhelmed by everything that I needed to do; I had the feeling that I wasn't getting anything accomplished. Oddly, I've noticed that I get this way nearly every spring- really exasperated with my life and negative about things. Maybe its because the sun is taking too long to arrive? I really can't figure out why, and I can't seem to avoid it either, so hopefully being proactive about things this year will head off the worst of it. Dreaming every night about laying out on the boat in the Turkish sun should do its part as well, to keep my spirits up.
Well, here's to getting back to blogging (and hoping that eventually someone notices...)
I wish I could say that I got tons done in the free time that I gained, but actually, I didn't launch myself into any particular project. Stuff happened, of course, but you would think that all that extra time would have allowed me to end third world hunger or carve a replica of Mount Rushmore, or I don't know, find a job but it just didn't happen.
God- what did I do with my time?!? I know I thought that I was busy so let me bullet point, for maximum effect:
-The first big event, and what contributed to my blogging hiatus, was The Haircut That Nearly Destroyed My Will To Live. Last year in November I let my regular haircutter give me a radically shorter cut. It was cute but I didn't think it was perfect so when I got a recommendation for a really awesome new place in the 6th, I thought I would try it. It was more expensive than what I normally pay, but I figured that short haircuts are harder and it would be worth it. So I made an appointment for a cut and a color. I ended up showing up about 15 minutes late because I got lost getting there. I guess that they were a bit irritated because of that and didn't start on me for another 20 minutes. I pointed out more than once that I absolutely had to leave at 5 to get my daughter from daycare and they said no problem. Except it ended up being a huge problem. The guy rushed through my cut and when I got home I was horrified. It wasn't even the same length on both sides of my head. It seriously looked like the cut I gave my Malibu Barbie with a pair of cuticle scissors back when I was 8. All lumpy and sticky-uppy and weird. Maybe 'short bus' is the adjective I'm looking for? Anyways, I called back and was like 'Dude, you have got to fix this.' No problem he said, come in right away. And clearly I belong on the short bus, because I went back and let him cut my hair a second time. All that happened is that I had a different terrible haircut, only this time I had almost no hair left on my head so there was no fixing it. I think I can honestly say that this was the worst haircut I had ever had- and ironically, it was also the most expensive. I wore alot of hats for the next couple weeks (thank god for the miserably cold spring we had here in Paris) and then I crawled back on my knees to my regular guy, who fixed with his wonderfully talented hands. It was still horribly short but atleast I no longer look like an escapee from Cell Block 8. I'm due for another haircut next week, so I think I can officially put this horrible horrible experience behind me. But remember the morale of the story- never cheat on your hairdresser or you will be walking around for two months with the folical equivalent of the Scarlet Letter.
-Celebrated Ella's 3rd birthday. Oh yeah, that was pretty big. Will definitely do a photo post because it was so awesome and a very lovely friend of mine brought her photographer husband along to immortalize the event so I have a ton of great photos.
-Celebrated my birthday in serious style. Honestly, I was pretty surprised that it turned out so fabulous because normally I insist on being on vacay when I blow out my candlesand this was the first time in years I spent my B-day in Paris. The beginning of March is such a shitty time to be hanging around Paris. Everything is grey, the sky, the buildings, everyone's clothing, my skin, my attitude- and it just makes you want to put a gun to your head but then also taking time to remind yourself about how old you are getting? Recipe for disaster. This year, somehow, the vacation just didn't happen (now I remember- we kept talking about different plans, I would spend something like 10 or 12 hours organizing things and then just before I booked it all, B would say, "Actually, I really feel like doing that..." This year, the gun was pointing in his direction) and my birthday was probably one of the best. B took off at lunch to come and take care of Ella so I had a nice long bath and then skipped off to the salon to get pampered, I got dressed up and met my girlfriends at a sexy new Champagne bar that I highly recommend (cucumber/melon champagne cocktail- so nice!), then B came and picked me up to whisk me off to dinner at Les Ombres for a fantastic meal watching the lights twinkle on the Eiffel Tour. Perfection.
-My birthday present was a new painting from our favorite galerie and one of our favorite artists, Pietropoli. If you look on the site for Pietropoli, it is Tableau 2 under work 2007-2008 but I can't link to that screen. I love this painting and the nicest thing is that after the vernissage, we went to dinner with the galerie owner and the artist and I was able to talk to him for ages about the painting we bought and his other work. Of course, we still haven't hung the painting because we don't have any place to put it, but that is just a detail. I'm sure one day we'll be the lucky owners of a house with enough wall space for all this art, so I just have to be patient.
-I spent 5 days in NYC with one of my best best girlfriends and had an awesome time, as I always do. Of course, this girlfriend is so motivated and ambitious that even in her unemployed state, she puts me to shame. She had just gotten back from hiking in the Guatmalan jungle, looking at artifacts and skeletal remains in caves. She keeps her Facebook page totally updated. She was at the gym everyday, and to top it all off, is currently planning on hiking to Mount Everest Base Camp. Hmm. I was feeling pretty good about having cleaned out my closets up until I spent a week with her. Still, so nice to have some time away from B and Ella even though I did end up missing them tons by the end. The highlights of this trip were picking out the tiles for the kitchen when I visited the Ann Sacks shop, buying a beautiful dress at Rebecca Taylor, which was destroyed in its first wash (oops), going nuts in the Jonathan Adler boutique (if only I had brought two suitcases!!), and then missing my flight home... Lucky for me, I have a ton of airmiles and managed to get on a flight the next day but I can tell you that for a few minutes there, it was looking like this was going to be the most expensive weekend in NYC in the history of weekends. Well, as far as my husband was concerned, anyways.
-Before destroying my new dress, I wore it to an amazing party on a yacht moored at quai Henri IV, just a short hop from our apartment. It was the weirdest thing- a girlfriend called me up at around 7 on a Sat evening and asked if I wanted to go to this party with her that same night. I was free and it was close by so I was in, but still, I asked her for some details. Who was giving the party? She didn't really know. Uhm, who invited her? Well, a girlfriend of hers, but it was still really confusing as to how this other girl got the invite. Ooo-kay. Well, then, what was the party for? Should we bring something along? No no, just show up early so we didn't have to do the boat cruise down the Seine. Its not the first time she dragged me along to some dodgy party but I hadn't been out in awhile so I said yes. Well, it was the best party with a live jazz band followed by an awesome DJ. There was open bar/champagne all night long and really really nice nibbly food. Everyone was gorgeous and rich (judging by the clothes anyways). And no one had any idea who was throwing the party. I stayed until nearly 2 and the main table, being guarded by two enormous bouncer/security type guys, was empty the entire time. Rumor had it that it was a party thrown by some Saudi prince. Who knows.
-I went back to the States suddenly because my grandfather died. Maybe I'll write more about that later but for now, I'll just say that it was fantastic to be able to go back for everything and in the end Ella and I had a really nice little holiday with my family. Even managed to get my mom's mountain of old photos sorted out. The task of putting them into albums is not going to be done for years, I would imagine, but even getting this far feels like a major accomplishment. If you had any idea of the hell I have been going through every year putting together the annual Photo Calendar for my parents, you would know that this will change my life. Or atleast improve the two weeks before Christmas, time I have normally spent rifling through drawers and boxes and old half-filled albums.
-B launched himself into a new home improvement project while I was away and changed our wood floor with a new one. It looks great and it was a huge job for him to clear out our house, all by himself, and then put everything back again, so I really appreciate it. BUT there is still painting and stuff that hasns't been done following the kitchen building work. I am tearing my hair out!!! We have piles of paint cans on the floor in our bedroom. There are boards and a set of shelves piled in the corner of Ella's room. The ladder has to be moved continually from one resting spot to the next. Tools are jammed under tables and in corners. B has a dozen plastic bowls scattered around, holding things like kitchen switch plates, bedroom door knobs, screws that need to be put in some particular place, etc. I tried to be very excited about the new floor but inside I was screaming "When are the ?/§%µ* kitchen renovation project going to end?!!??" I am guessing, possibly, it will happen before 2009 but I wouldn't put money on it.
-And I have just wound up the planning of our big spring vacation which looks like it is gbing to be AMAZING; two weeks in Turkey to celebrate my Dad's 60th birthday. We are in a beautiful little boutique hotel in Istanbul for a few days so we can see the sights before flying down to the Mediterranean coast for a Blue Cruise on a lovely private yacht, followed by a week in a villa in a charming and remote village from which we can visit all the great archealogical sites in the area. Seriously, how awesome is this trip going to be? The planning nearly did my head in, the days and days it took to sort everything out, but I really insist on staying in beautiful places and I don't (can't) spend a fortune. Its always possible to meet those two criteria but naturally all the best places are booked early so I had to google hard to find good stuff and you really have to have no shame re:haggling for the best price. It takes time though. I really ought to start adding a bit on my CV about my talents as a travel agent considering the amount of time and energy I put into planning our holidays.
So there it is, all up to date. Now, that I am over my bloggers' block, hopefully I can get back to regular updating. Once Easter ended, I wanted to start writing but it seemed like there was so much to talk about that I didn't know where to start. I also hired a new babysitter yesterday, someone to come during the day and take Ella for a few hours so that I can go to the gym and get some bigger projects done. This should also give me the time to do a bit of writing. I had been really dragging the last week or so, feeling overwhelmed by everything that I needed to do; I had the feeling that I wasn't getting anything accomplished. Oddly, I've noticed that I get this way nearly every spring- really exasperated with my life and negative about things. Maybe its because the sun is taking too long to arrive? I really can't figure out why, and I can't seem to avoid it either, so hopefully being proactive about things this year will head off the worst of it. Dreaming every night about laying out on the boat in the Turkish sun should do its part as well, to keep my spirits up.
Well, here's to getting back to blogging (and hoping that eventually someone notices...)
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