Chocolate Cupcakes with Vanilla Bean Cream Cheese Frosting

I've decided that there is no point in trying out all these different cupcake recipes if I'm not going to keep notes on which ones I like best so I am going to start a new category on the blog to store the recipes for future reference. I've got a vague plan in my head about turning the empty shop down the street into an American Cupcake Bakery but I'm not entirely sure that I want to spend my days in an apron. I am the furthest thing from an academic snob, but I have a nagging suspicion that I would be much happier in a job in which I actually make use of my Masters in Economics.(Of course, if instead of a single cupcake shop, I make plans for a Cupcake Empire, it seems much more enticing). All the same, plans sort of swirl around in my head and in the meantime, my entourage is being assaulted on a weekly basis with a new test batch of cupcakes, providing me with free market research for my imaginary menu.

Today's cupcake, Chocolate Cupcakes with Vanilla Bean Cream Cheese Frosting, was a solid winner. I actually made them yesterday afternoon and they were much better after having spent the night in the wine refrigerator (maybe this is going to be my secret ingredient? essence of cork?) Just as a side note, that wine cave has proven to be very useful- for holding bottled water and now for chilling cupcakes- but is only barely used for its actual purpose, ie storing wine. Basically, its just an extra mini fridge. Anyways, the chocolate cake was fantastic with a really fluffy light crumb and a gorgeous, almost brownie-like texture on the top. For the frosting, I bought every cream cheese type thing that they had in my grocery store, figuring that I wanted to find a good replacement once and for all; my last batch of frosting was made with mascorpone and I didn't like how runny it was. Kiri and St Moret don't cut it, in my book, as they are far too wet for a frosting. I finally 'craked the code.' I would go so far as to say that Saint Florentin cheese is EXACTLY the same thing as Philadelphia Cream Cheese. Seriously, for the Americans in Paris, this is powerful information. You no longer have to traipse over to one of the American epiceries and pay 7 euro for a pack of imported stuff. I found mine for something like 1.50 euro at the Monoprix. I see a wonderful summer of cream cheese taco dip ahead of us...














The cupcake recipe I used was from the Cupcake Blog, adapted to my kitchen.

Old-Fashioned Chocolate Cupcakes
4 regular cupcakes + 15 mini cupcakes
210° C oven (I had mine on convection to bake them faster)


1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter, room temp
1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons sugar
1 large egg, room temp
1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons cake flour
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup high quality unsweetened cocoa powder like Van Houten
1/4 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

1. Beat butter until softened. Add sugar and beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes.
2 Add egg and beat until well combined.
3. Measure the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cocoa powder into a small sized bowl and whisk to combine.
4. Measure out the milk and vanilla and stir to combine
5. Add about a third of the dry ingredients to the butter/sugar and beat to combine. Add about a half of the milk/vanilla and beat to combine. Continue adding, alternating between dry and wet and finishing with the dry.
6. Scoop batter into cupcake cups about 2/3’s full. Bake full size cupcakes for about 20 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean. Mini cupcakes only need 9 minutes. Please note that I used silicone pans and a metal pan would speed up baking time.

As you can see, I filled my cups too full and they collapsed a bit in the center once they cooled. I was using silicone muffin pans so I wasn't able to tap it against the counter to get a good idea how full they were. I think that with this recipe its better to err on the side of caution and underfill rather than overfill.




















Vanilla Bean Cream Cheese Frosting

1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
4 oz St Florentin cream cheese
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 vanilla bean, seeds scraped out
2-3 cups powdered sugar

1. Using an electric mixer, beat the butter at medium speed until creamy.
2. Add the cream cheese and beat until combined.
3. Add the vanilla extract, vanilla seeds, and 2 cups of powdered sugar and beat at low speed, occasionally stopping to scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl, until light and fluffy. Add more powdered sugar to arrive at the consistency and sweetness you like.

Pourpîer

Anybody know what this is in English? I found it at the vegetable stand and it was so funny looking that I had to buy it. Basically you eat it as salad, I guess. The flavor was fresh and lettuce-y, nothing special really but it did have a nice crunch. B thought it looked like lilypads.

Sunday on the balcony

I think that today I definitely had the best brunch in Paris. It was so lovely that I almost don't want to say where I went- seeing as how my traffic is still pretty low, I guess that I can risk it. On Thursday, when B had off, we wandered over to the Flore en Ile on Ile St Louis for an ice cream and when I was flipping through the menu, I saw that they had a proper brunch menu. It sounded good, plus its only a five minute walk from our church so I made a mental note to try it out some day. When I saw how gorgeous it was out this morning, I knew that we had to find a nice terrasse for lunch and luckily I remembered the Flore en Ile. It was perfect, a terrasse without much car traffic going by, a really nice brunch menu (I had a perfect cheese omelette, and I am super fussy about my eggs so thats really saying something), a view of Notre Dame and the river, and best of all, no trendy young things hogging up all the nice tables for hours; it was probably 60% old people from the neighborhood and 40 % tourists. The price wasn't bad either at 21 euros as the table was groaning under all the food they brought out- there was even freshly squeezed orange juice.

After all the food, we definitely need to a bit of exercise so we walked over to the Marché aux Fleurs to get some new plants for the balcony. We probabl had a better winter than most years- I lost the same three lavendar plants that I loose every year. For some reason (too much sun? too much wind) one side of my planter is jinxed and those plants never make it for more than 6 months. So we picked up a few pots of lavender officinalis , the only variety that seems to like our balcony. I decided that i was sick of white geraniums and, besides, our plants were looking a bit tired after 5 years. I watch gardening shows and look through Met Home and tell myself that I will do something cool next time I buy plants for the balcony- lots of grasses. Maybe giant yucca plants in inox pots. Sculptured pines? So what did I buy? Bright pink geraniums. What can I say? I'm just country, I guess.

When we got home, we put Ella down for a nap and B and I dug into the massive job of cleaning out all the dead leaves, pruning, trimming. We decided that a lot of the plants needed to be repotted with fresh dirt so that required an extra trip out for extra potting soil. And then there was all the clean up. Anyways, we worked hard and when it was all done, I popped open a bottle of nice cold pink champagne and we sat down to enjoy our work. Every year we say that we have to simplify things because the watering alone probably takes up an hour or two a week. Then plants are always dying and needing to be replaced. We have to arrange for someone to take care of things when we go on holiday. Its hard work. But it is so nice on a hot summer day to collapse into one of the chairs and suck in that cool green air. Its amazing how much difference it makes to have the plants. And I suppose I really am a country girl. It might just be a poor substitute for a garden, but it gets me through until I can get back to WI and the real thing.

BBQ Pork Sandwich

I'm back on the Bikram Yoga bandwagon but its killing me. Contrary to their claims that a class will totally energize you, I come home from class and take a two hour nap. This explains why I haven't had any time for blogging- I leave the house 30 minutes before class, I do a 90 minute class, I slump against a wall in the locker room and drink water for 20 minutes, take 20 minutes to shower and dress, and another 30 minutes to get home, plus the 2 hour nap, and basically that is my entire afternoon. Its hard now, but I know that when I get my Turkey vacation photos back, I'll be very very happy to have made the effort.

I thought that maybe the diet was the problem and maybe I just needed more food in order to survive the classes intact so last night I decided to cave and just cook the meal I was craving rather than sticking to the usual rabbit food. Problem was, I didn't have a recipe for what I was craving. Somehow, I had gotten it in my head that the best thing in the world would be a barbequed pulled-pork sandwich. I don't even remember when I might have eaten one of these, but there was no fighting the cravings. I NEEDED one.

So this, my internet friends, is the recipe that I came up with. I decided that I needed to write it down in as many places as possible because it turned out so gloriously perfectly scrumptious that I would sooner kill myself than face a future where there was no possibility of eating one of these sandwiches again. They were really truly that good.

BBQ Pork Sandwich

500-600 gram pork roast
2 onions, sliced
1 red pepper, sliced
2 tbsp molasses
1 tsp garlic
salt and pepper
1/2 cup vinegar

SAUCE:
1 cup ketchup
1 tbsp mustard
1 tbsp molasses
1 tbsp worschester sauce
2 tbsp sweet chili sauce

Heat oven to 200 C on convection. Put sliced onions and pepper in the bottom of a heavy casserole dish. Take roast and sprinkle thoroughly with salt and pepper. Place in the dish on top of onions and pepper. Spoon the molasses over the meat and sprinkle the garlic (I actually used garlic powder since it was easier) over the top. Rub into the meat and over the sides. Put the lid on the pot and roast in the oven for atleast 2 hours, or until the meat is falling apart. (If you just came from yoga, this would be an excellent time for a nap!) When the meat is thoroughly cooked, remove the pot from the oven and put the roast on a cutting board. Immediately dump the vinegar in the pan to deglaze the carmelized bits on the bottom. Using two forks pull the pork into small pieces and return to pot.

In a bowl, mix all the ingredients for the sauce together. Taste and adjust the seasoning until it is spicy enough for you. Pour the sauce over the meat and stir everything together. At this point, you can immediately eat the meat because it smells so good that you cannot even wait for your husband to get home from work before tearing into it, or you can return the entire pot to a warm oven to cook the sauce a bit and blend the flavors.

I bought little brioche buns that look like hamburger buns for this recipe but they were a bit too sweet for my taste. There is something too weird about eating this on baguette although B did it and said it tasted great to him. Maybe on pain au lait? I need to experiment a bit more. I think it would be the most perfect picnic food since it doesn't have to be warm to taste good. And it would be a good way to cement friendships- if I served this at a party, people would be swearing their undying fidelity for the chance to eat one of these awesome sandwiches again. And the best part of this recipe is that it is so easy- I probably spent about 10 minutes total in the kitchen working on this. I know, I'm not quite the Pioneer Woman yet, but I'm getting there.

Elton John was right- 'sorry' IS the hardest word

So, its been a bit tense around the house here the last day or so. B and I got in a big fight; it started out as a teeny tiny fight but he's gotten me more irritated as time passes so I am curious as to how this is going to end. I suppose its got to get sorted out tonight since we are going out alone together and while it is easy enough to not talk while in the house, it might be more difficult to do while sitting alone at a restaurant for an hour. I don't care how hard it is, I am not saying I am sorry and thats what he is waiting for. He can go µ%?/ù himself because its not happening. He saw something on TV the other night and made a bad joke that made me a bit mad. As much as B likes going to Wisconsin, he's always making comments, as if everyone there is so backward and ignorant that its a wonder that they can get their shoes on the right feet. So I said that I really didn't think it was funny when he said everyone there was so stupid because 'those people' are also my family and friends and, actually, me. So he could he stop it please? He said it was even more stupid for me to get mad about something like that since it was just a joke.

Now, just as a side note, I think this is the lamest excuse possible. I've heard all kinds of people use this excuse to say all kinds of insulting things. But it was a joke! Uhm, its not a joke if no one laughs. I'll give some lee way concerning intention. If someone insults me knowingly its clearly not the same thing as accidentally making a comment that I don't appreciate. But 'It was a joke!' is not like some kind of 'Get out of jail free' card.

So anyways, he insults me, I tell him I don't appreciate those kind of jokes, and then HE stomps off to the bedroom and pouts because he says that I was being unreasonable and hyper-sensitive. He won't talk to me until I apologize. I have to admit, this left me a bit speechless. He gets to insult me and also gets the apology? Up til this point, I was irritated by his stupid joke, but not mad. When he insinuated that he was the victim is when I saw red.

I don't think its necessarily a French thing (although I blame all his faults on his Frenchness), but I don't think that this is a culture that accepts responsibility very well. If B were a case study, I would say that Frenchmen tend to ignore problems as long as possible, get excessively angry and rage aimlessly and loudly about the problem once they do have to acknowledge it, and then give long convuluted excuses as to why nothing can be done to solve the problem. However, stepping up and just saying, "My fault; sorry about that. Is there anything I can do to fix it?" is pretty much the last thing that would come out of his mouth.

Generally when we argue, I have to force him to talk about it. And when he grudgingly admits to some part of the blame, he looks down and fidgets, which is my sign to get exasperated and tell him, "Then the nice thing to do would be to say your sorry" (Since I already started the conversation by apologizing for what I did.) And then its over. Why is it such a big deal to say "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."? I know its stupid to drag out a fight over who is going to say sorry first. Maybe I'm still mad enough that I don't mind not speaking to him for a few days. i guess we could always just see a film tonight, then we wouldn't have to talk at all.

PS Am I beyond hope if I admit to actually LOVING the song "Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word", as sung by the boys band Blue? I know it is chees-a-rific but I can't help myself. Oooo- I just put it on and Ella is totally grooving to it. Like mother, like daughter, I guess.

Party time with Ella

On Tuesday I had a message from a friend that her application to the UN mission to Sudan had finally been approved and she was flying out of Paris on Friday morning. Were we free on Wednesday night for a going away party?

I knew that Anna, our new babysitter, was interested in working for some sort of intergovernmental organization when she graduated from uni so I thought she might like to meet my friend and some of the other people that might be at the party. I thought up this really awesome plan- Anna and Ella could come with us to the party and when Ella got tired, the two of them could take a taxi home, leaving B and I to stay up as late as we pleased.

Well, it seemed to be a very good omen when Ella laid down for a late nap and stayed in bed til 7 pm. I dashed around getting things ready and when B came home from work (late) I told him to hurry since we still had to pick up Anna. He dragged his feet and didn't help me at all getting stuff together so it was no wonder that I forgot the wine for the party on the kitchen counter. When we got in the car, he immediately started to moan about how awful traffic was- traffic in the direction of the peripherique was at a standstill in front of our building which was a very bad sign, so we decided to go through Paris instead. And then, finally, it came out. He did not like my plan one little bit; in fact, it was really a stupid plan and, since passive-aggressive wasn't having any affect on me, he had to just say it outloud. I pointed out that it was too late now, nothing to do but deal with it.

Well, he shifted his irritation to the task of picking up Anna. Since she lives at Cité Université and the boulevard that passed in front was impossible to park on and turn around on, we had no idea where to pick her up. We had her on the phone and were shouting instructions at each other but it was complete chaos and finally we found a place to stop because Ella had started to make noises about her tum-tum being full- translation: she was going to vomit. I got her out of the car while waiting for Anna to walk to where we were parked and the cool evening air seemed to settle Ella's stomach. I had Anna get in the front seat so I could sit next Ella in the back and we were off. Unfortunately, we were on a one-way street in the wrong direction, which only served to fire-up B's irritation again. He said suddenly that he was changing his mind and going to take the peripherique and swung the car sharply to the right. Unfortunately, "sharp right" was not the exit to the peripherique, but the exit for Bordeaux.

So there we were, suddenly zipping along the autoroute at 110 km/hr to a place we definitely did not want to go to with absolutely no way of turning off. We were driving and driving and frantically searching for any sign of an off ramp when Ella started cupping her hands in front of her mouth and shouting, "Full tum-tum! Full tum-tum!" I grabbed a giant plastic tote-bag out of the backseat pocket (thank god that Carrefour doesn't give out plastic sacks anymore or I would have had to hand ella my Fendi bag... who am I kidding. She would have had to puke on the floor of the car if that plastic sack hadn't been there.) and held it under her chin. She proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach (two string cheeses and a sippy cup of apple juice) into the bag, once again puking like a champ and neither getting any on her clothes or crying afterwards. I've only seen frat boys with technique like her.

Meanwhile, B had finally spotted an exit ramp. He immediately took it- and we found ourselves quite literally stuck in the middle of Rungis. In a way, it was a bit cool because you always hear about Rungis, but I had never been and it is quite impressive (if giant parking lots and warehouses are your thing). ALso, it is totally confusing and clearly for people in the know as there were no signs to explain where we were or how we could get out. After looping around aimlessly for about 5 minutes, we found our way onto something ressembling normal streets and after I spotted a bus in the distance, we wisely followed it until we could find a sign indicating which direction to Paris.

So only an hour and a half after leaving our house, we arrived in the 15th at my friend's house, where, quite naturally, there were no parking spaces available and after dropping us off in front of the building, B was forced to circle around for 20 minutes more before finding a parking place. The evenings excitement was finally getting to me, and I was bummed about having left the wine at home because by this point I was more than ready for a nice stiff drink or 9. The rest of the evening actually went really well, the party was great and Ella was in such good spirits that she just played until midnight when we decided to go home all together.

And before turning off the lights, I rolled over and said to B, "Ok, maybe you were right about it being a bad idea taking Ella with us to the party..."

I'm baffled

I'm baffled as to why otherwise sane women that I know would choose to do without a cleaning lady when they have the means to pay for one. Honestly, three hours a week only costs something like 30 euro. For a measly 30 euro, who would choose to clean their toilets, scrub the floor, change the bedsheets, and iron their husband's shirts themselves? This isn't about any person in particular, its just sort of a general befuddlement that I have had for awhile now. Granted, some people might wonder why I need to have a cleaner for 9 hours a week (3 hours Monday, Wednesday, and Friday), when I live in a shoe box and don't work outside the home (so one could argue that I have nothing else to do with my time but clean and iron). Fair enough- three times a week is maybe a bit excessive but I've gotten used to things being really orderly so now it would be impossible to scale back . Besides, I feel like there are a million other things to do with my time besides clean. How unimaginative must you be to not be able to find better things to do than clean? Hmm. Very curious.

Of course, today for the first time ever, I had a babysitter come to take care of Ella so I could do something for myself on a Saturday afternoon. Since B always works Saturdays, its really my least favorite day of the week. All my friends are busy doing family stuff with their husband. Their are lovey dovey couples everywhere you look. The shops are too full of working people frantically trying to cram a weeks worth of errands into one afternoon. I generally end up staying home or venturing no further than the park on the corner. So this was very a very exciting development, I had all kinds of suggestions for things for the two of them to do to be sure that I would be free of Ella for the entire afternooon, and how did I end up spending my three free hours? I actually went to the grocery store to do a massive shop and then I sat home to wait for the delivery. I know, I know- what was that about lacking imagination? But what do you do when there is not a scrap of food left in the house and the shops are closed all day Sunday?

Actually, there was techinically enough food in the house to get us through til Monday but the problem is that I am on this crazy diet and unless I have all the allowed foods in stock, I tend to go a bit crazy and tear into the old Easter candy. Is it any wonder that I have only lost 3 pounds in 3 weeks despite being Miserable and feeling completely Deprived? I'm the worst dieter ever. I finally decided that even though I was weak with hunger I had to start including some serious exercise into my day otherwise this would be the Diet That Never Ends. At this point, I would be happy to lock myself in a sauna until I sweated off 4 more pounds in water weight just to see the magic number on the scale so I can stop dieting, for pete's sake. How desperate am I to just bloody loose a few more pound? So desperate that I very nearly bought a package of dodgy 'diet pills' at the parapharmacy yesterday. As if that would work, right. I was kind of hoping that there would be some sort of placebo affect, but then I realized that I didn't have enough cash and I couldn't bear having B see the charge on my card, forcing me to own up to my craziness. I could be crazy, just so long as there was no paper trail, I guess. Really, its the psychology of dieting that kills me. I could happily eat yogurt for breakfast, plain vegetable soup for lunch, and poached chicken with asparagus for dinner, washed down with a pot or two of green tea but serve me the same thing and call it a diet, suddenly I am dying of hunger and fighting with ella over the old M&M's we find in the bottom of my purse. Clearly, I don't need a trainer so much as a psychologist...

Anyways, I am going to have to fall off the wagon tonight since B made dinner reservations for us at Atelier du Maitre Albert. I love that place, although I think the the Venn diagram of traditional french brassierie cuisine and low-fat, no-carb eating would show zero overlap. Its going to be a long Sunday, if I am going to have to do penance by surviving on nothing but vegetable potage and green tea.

Another gorgeous day in Paris; I am out on the balcony right now watching the bateau mouche cruise up and down the river. Every single one of them is packed to the gills with tourists, but I can understand that because the boat tour of Paris is one my top recommendations to visiting friends. Everyone is in short sleeves and sunglasses. Ooooh- a bride and the wedding party just wandered past! I want to get married again and have the party on a boat! The ladies all look so pretty in their hats and summer dresses and the men look so hot in their suits and sunglasses. Hmm, for all my complaining about this small apartment and grimey grey irritating Paris, it can be really wonderful with Paris throwing these perfect Hollywood moments at me, when I least expect it.

Its so beautiful here on the balcony, once all the leaves fill out the trees- its like sitting on a fluffy green cloud. I'm thinking that I might just sneak a little glass of rose champagne from the bottle in the fridge because a sunny lazy Saturday afternoon like this one deserves to be celebrated a little. Ooops- spoke to soon. Ella just came to sit by me with her new drum set, all the better to admire her aural assault.

Spring is here

I hope I'm not jinxing anything by saying it outloud. Today is absolutely 100% gorgeous, with a blue sky and a big sun and all of the terrasses are full and so instead of getting my errands done this afternoon, I went shopping for summer clothes. I couldn't find anything for myself so I came home loaded down with bags of clothes for Ella, which makes me mad; its one of those mom things that I said I would never do. On the positive side, I started packing her summer clothes for the Turkey vacation and I think with this last shopping trip I can call it a day. The bag will be full and it should be enough to get her through two weeks. I can take that off my To-do list.

I wandered through the new lingerie department at BHV today on my way through the shop and noticed something that I had seen this past weekend while on a lingerie spree. You see older women and middle aged women with no make-up, frumpy clothes, and hair sticking up in every direction ever so carefully choosing the laciest, sexiest lingerie you can imagine. I love this idea that sexy lingerie is such a basic in the Frenchwoman's wardrobe that even when she is completely indifferent to more public aspects of her appearance, she never just throws in the towel and buys plain cotton briefs. I think that this is almost the opposite of American women.

I have a half hour before I need to go get Ella from daycare so I need to quickly put in my pilates DVD and squeeze in a workout. I went out with B and some friends of ours last night to Casa San Pablo on rue Sevigné and totally blew my diet. In all fairness, I had been trying to get a table at this restaurant for probably a year and since I finally managed to call for a reservation far enough in advance to be successful, I decided that I couldn't waste the opportunity by sticking to dried ham and mineral water all night. BORING. It was so worth it- the food is great and its cheap. We got three tapas menus for 16 euros each (12 plates in total) and it was more than we could finish. I would recommend this place but it only has like 10 tables and I am hoping I might manage to get another some day. So don't go, just admire from a distance.

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...)

A fully functioning kitchen- AT LAST!

What a great day! We finally, after more than a month of building works, once again have the luxury of living in an apartment with a fully functioning kitchen. The plumber came this morning and hooked up the sink. That means no more running to the bathroom every time I need to get Ella a glass of water. No running stuff through the dishwasher three times because there is no place to rinse off food gunk. No more emptying pasta water into a bucket and ending up with half of it on the floor because I am trying to hold the colander in one hand and not scald myself. Oh, and best of all? Maybe my cleaning lady with deign to enter the kitchen once more. Bizarrely, she hasn't touched a thing in the kitchen in the last 4 weeks- not even emptying the dishwasher. I realize that it was, technically, a building site and more or less a lost cause in terms of cleanliness, but still. I was so baffled each time she left the house, only to find that she had left a stack of filthy dishes on the counter and the dishwasher full, that I never managed to quite articulate a request. Hopefully, she won't be too disturbed by the unfinished walls and Wednesday we can get back to normal.

Actually, I'm thinking that I might attack the walls this week anyways; this morning the plasterer came for the last time and since B and I have pretty much decided that the only way to pick out the tile will be by visiting an Ann Sacks showroom, we will probably not have tiles any time soon. I figure I might as well make the walls presentable since I will have to live with it this way for a couple months. Plus, I have my very exciting Tupperware party on Friday morning and so all my mommy friends will be in the kitchen checking it out. I don't want to say I am definitely going to do it, because at this point, I have so much stuff to clean up before we have people over, I might never be ready. On the otherhand, I get slightly lunatic about the house whenever people are coming around and re-painting a room doesn't even scratch the surface of my special kind of crazy.

I am also very anxious to see this picture hung up. I mentioned last fall that we had bought a painting at the vernissage for Charel at the Galerie Felli and this is it. Since it arrived, I've just been shifting it around the house from one corner to the next. I couldn't really figure out where to put. Finally, I think that it will look really great hanging in the kitchen since the lightest color matches the cabinets and stone and there is a greenish tinge in the water (that you can't see very well in this photo) that is picked up by the glass in the upper cabinets. I will still need to get it under glass so that the humidity and grease in the kitchen don't wreck the surface of the painting, which is actually quite fragile, but for now, I just want to see it up. I think that getting up some art will go a long ways towards making me feel like this project is coming together and will be finished one day soon.

Paris addresses for moms

Saturday mornings, there is no laying around the house in our pyjamas. Ella and I are always up bright and early to get her to her dance class. I don't know if I have mentioned here what a great little dance studio I found over in the 5th. Its called the Atoll de Danse (35 rue Galande. for info, call Cleo at 06 26 82 41 45) and its a run by a trio of women. On Saturday morning, they have a class for 2-3 year olds. Calling it "danse class" is probably exaggerating a bit. Its more about movement and music, with a bit of tumbling thrown in. There are only 4 little girls and Ella just adores it; she spends all of Saturday wiggling around the house, repeating the exercises that they did. This week, it was apparently something about "Marchez, marchez, marchcez, saut!" ("Walk walk walk, jump! ad infinitum...) Its a bit expensive but it suits Ella so well, that I don't even worry about the price. If anyone would be looking for a class, I could not recommend this place highly enough.

The only problem with her class is that it lasts one hour and I am always at loose ends, trying to find something to do while I wait for her. Its just far enough from our house that it is silly to come home; all I have time for is a quick coffee and I have to get my coat back on to fetch her. Over in the 5th, there isn't really much to do in the way of shopping, unless I want to buy groceries at the market. I thought I had finally hit on a good plan- I would spend the time getting my nails done! I love having a manicure. When I try to take care of my nails myself, they are always a mess. They are too soft so I can't let them grow long and I can't seem to paint them without smudging atleast three nails in the first ten minutes. I feel a bit embarrassed to have my hands out sometimes when we go somewhere nice, my nails and cuticles are in such bad shape. But its not really enough of a priority that I would go out of my way to schedule a manicure. Thats why this is so perfect.

Except that there are apparently ZERO places in the 5th where you can get your nails done. I spent 45 minutes wandering in circles trying to find a place near to her danse studio where I could get a quick, cheap manicure. I gave up on that idea and would have gone anywhere that even offered the service. Finally, I asked at a pharmacy and they sent me Sephora at 79, Blvd St Germain in the 6th. Its not too expensive at 26 euro and its not too far from the studio, but generally, I prefer to go to small local places than big chains like Sephora. I made an appointment for the next week, since it was nearly time to go pick up Ella, and headed back. Then, when I was about 100 meters from my destination, what do I spy wedged between two giant cafe awnings? Why, a small beauty salon! I had peaked around the corner earlier, but hadn't noticed the window, hidden behind chairs and umbrellas from the cafe on the corner but in fact, it was exactly the type of place I had been looking for. Its called L'institut (88, blvd St Germain) and for 35 euro you can get a thorough manicure with hand treatment. Its a bit more expensive but they were really helpful and said that they were rarely busy that early on a Saturday so I wouldn't even have to make appointments- which, for me, is perfect. Its silly, but I HATE making appointments for things like that. Since I always seem to be running 10 minutes late due to little miss E, I'm already stressed out enough about being late for important appointments. No need to stress out about stupid things like my nails. Now hopefully next week, I'll be reporting on what a wonderful job they did. But then, its kind of hard to file nails badly, right?

Countertops are in!

So the guys just left and our countertops are in! I really think it turned out great- although the color is slightly darker than I thought it would be, not exactly as creamy as expected, but I think that it might just be due to the fact that some of the pieces of stone had less grey in them than the piece that we ended up with. B really likes the color. My fav thing is how thick it is- 7 cm. I also really like the underhung sink, which is enormous. When we went back to the kitchen shop to confirm the plan, we asked for a bigger sink. I don't know why we thought the original one was too small, when I suspect it was the average size. Since we only have one basin, instead of two, like in the old kitchen, its probably for the best. I also have ended up happy with the little trash can thing installed in the countertop. The idea is that you can just brush crumbs, peelings, etc into the bucket instead of trying to carry them to the trash. Ultimately, it probably would have been more useful to have a dishsoap dispenser I suppose. Oh well. B and his gadgets, its impossible to control.

Since the color of the stone is a lot more greige than I expected I am a bit confused now as to what I should do for the tiles/wall color. If the color had been paler, I thought either a really cozy brown color would look good or a very pale cream color. Now, I suspect that either of those choices would make things just too monochromatic and blah. Back to the drawing board, I guess. I've already pulled out my stack of color swatches and its interesting to see that a pinky beige color looks the best with the stone. The next best is definitely a deep, dusty purple color. Of course, neither of these looks phenomonal with the aqua blue glass. Hmmm.

I was just wondering as I looked through the color samples if it wouldn't be a good idea to apply some sort of decal to the front of the glass cabinets. I've seen some really amazing uses of photography printed onto clear sticky paper and applied to plexiglass. If I could do something like that to change the color of the glass, it would be fantastic. I already asked B if we could possible use the plastic tint that you put on windows (to block out light) on the glass and he said he thought it would be a bad idea. I might have to insist on trying it anyways. It would give it the perfect smoky brown color that let the cabinets blend into the background.

Finally, the best way to deal with the monocromatic color scheme might be to add some patterened tiles. I was flipping through the Ann Sacks website and found some glass tile mosaics that might be just the thing for blending the beiges and the aqua blue. What do you think of this or this? I'm starting to realize that there is no way that I will be able to order these tiles over the telephone, however. Clearly, I'm going to have to find a very good reason to fly back to the States for a weekend so I can visit a showroom and make some decisions.

Am I over-reacting?

It makes me absolutely FURIOUS when B goes through my goes through my stuff to see who I've been talking to, writing to, emailing, etc. I got an anonymous call on my mobile the other night and because I was busy getting Ella to bed, I didn't pick up the call, figuring the person would leave a message and I could call them back later. Well, he couldn't stand that. Who was it? Who would be calling from an anonymous number? Why didn't I check the message? Why not right this second? Finally, I called my answering machine and it was a friend in NYC calling from work, since she didn't have my home number with her. End of story, right?

Except it irritates me beyond belief. I couldn't help shouting at him to leave it alone. My phone, my friend, my business! Things had sort of been building up to a giant irritation over the past few days. He heard my phone beep in the morning with a texto, so he picked up my phone and went through all the messages, curious who had sent me a message so early and curious about who I had gotten messages from. He doesn't see any problem doing this. Or anything wrong with reading all my emails when he sits down to use the computerl; he says it shouldn't matter since it is just sitting open on the scree. He'll go through the phone bill to see which number I've been calling the most. I can't have a diary, because if he sees it, he'll take it out when I am not home and read it. He'll even go through the history on Internet Explorer to see which websites I've looked at during the day. Yesterday, when I went to peek at one my favorite 'boutiques' on Ebay, he made me click on my account to see if I've been bidding on anything. How insulting- as if I am five years old and need to be monitored.

I don't feel like I should have to lock up my stuff in my own home in order to have a bit of privacy. It doesn't matter if there is any secret to hide or not, its just that I think that he doesn't have any right to go through my things. Its mine. I hate feeling like I have no personal space. Honestly, when I saw him going through my text messages I was ready to pack my bags and walk out of the house, I was so angry.

His excuse is that he is just curious, since he was a little boy he has been a 'Touche-a-tout' (touch everything). He can't make himself stop. I think, growing up in a big family often living in very tight quarters, I am slightly more sensitive than most about my personal space. I would never read someone's private diary, email, mail, look in their telephone, listen in on a conversation- nothing. I think that curiosity killed the cat and no good can come of poking around in other people's business. Am I the only one?

Over-scheduled

I have got to dig through the mountain of paperwork, old magazines, coloring books, used airline tickets, etc on my desk and find my agenda because for the second week in a row I managed to schedule three meet-ups on the same day. Today I had coffee at my house in the morning (at the time I had scheduled the plasterer to come in, so making the actual coffee proved to be a bit of a challenge...), I had afternoon coffee scheduled with a girlfriend at a place up in the 9th, and normally I am supposed to go out for drinks with a few girlfriends yet tonight, but I think I will have to cancel that because I just spent a very miserable 40 minutes walking home in a cold misty rain and I would like to avoid catching pneumonia, thank you very much.

Basically, every single one of my social engagements for the week were squeezed into a 8 hour period. I am turning into my mother. "I don't need a calendar, I'll just keep it all straight in my head." Well, clearly I can't manage even my meagre list of social events without help. Right now I have a niggling fear that there is something I am supposed to do tomorrow afternoon but I just checked my calendar and there is nothing written down (big surprise.) Hmmm. This is almost worse than forgetting about a rdv because instead of just feeling bad when the person calls to ask where I am, I get to spend the entire day with the looming dread of getting yelled at, just waiting for my phone to ring so I can know the who, when, and where. Ahh, the slow slide into senility. Who know it would start so soon?

Anyways, before I forget (which is likely to be any second now), I should mention this great cafe that I went to this afternoon. Its called The Poussette Cafe and it was the perfect place to go with Ella and another baby for a relaxing afternoon coffee. I rarely go out to meet girlfriends with Ella because I spend the entire time trying to entertain her and keep from bothering the other customers. This cafe is all set up for kids, so there is stuff to play with, nothing really that kids can't touch, a menu that is actually for children and doesn't cost a fortune plus lots of nice things for adults. They have a shop selling lots of really sweet baby clothes and a great line of wall stickers for decorating children's rooms. I loved the place and will definitely be back. Plus, right across the street is a park with a climbing frame so if your kids get fed up with the cafe, you can pop out for a run in the park. This afternoon, my girlfriend and I had the place to ourselves, which I cannot understand. If I had kids and lived in the neighborhood, I think I would be there just about every single day.

The plague descends on our household once more

Good lord- once again Ella came down with a stomach flu and spent the hours between 10:30 last night and 3 am alternating between a coma like sleep and a surprisingly accurate re-enactment of The Exorcist. Poor B will never learn and for the umpteenth time managed to position himself right in the line of fire. How does the man do it? One of these days he will surely realize that it is far more intelligent to go for the bucket first, baby second. He gets it backwards, every single time, and ends up having to stand in front of her, catching vomit in his bare hands, unable to even move for fear of spreading the mess. Great Dad, just no sense of self-preservation. And not only does he not care about getting covered in puke (or atleast, not enough to avoid it), but he spent the night sleeping on the floor next to her bed so that he could be close to her if she got sick again. I tried to get Ella to come sleep in our room but she didn't want to and B volunteered to just stay with her. How sweet was that?

I was nearly convinced that it was the gastro once again but I was thinking about it and I wonder if she didn't get sick from the green grapes that she ate yesterday at playgroup. Can't you get salmonella or something from unwashed fruit and veg? I suppose it doesn't really matter now since she seems to be on the road to recovery but it does make me wonder a bit.

The most disturbing thing wasn't the amount of vomiting that she did, although it was prodigious. She dirtied nearly every single sheet and blanket that I own, and today was a steady round of washing, drying, ironing, and folding. Always fun, but even more so when you are managing on 5 hours of sleep.

The most disturbing thing was not the way the pasta that she had had for dinner turned to paste and stuck to the fabric of her pyjamas and the sheets, requiring a thorough scrub before it could be thrown in the washing machine and thereby working its way under all my nails so that I couldn't even enjoy a relaxing half hour in front of the tele without gagging from the stench of my own hands.

No, the most disturbing thing was the enormous chunks of food that came up. It was quite clear that her last meal consisted of green grapes and tortellini pasta, washed down with a bit of milk because squished into her sheets and piled up at the bottom of her bucket were halved grapes and slightly gnawed tortellini (and large chunks of curdled milk, ugh). Ella apparently eats like a starved wolfhound. It was quite clear that she had barely chewed any of her food, which I hadn't noticed while I was eating with her. I don't know what is more shocking- that she doesn't chew or that she managed to get those enormous chunks of food back up her esophogus?

Door adjustments

Voila, the work that they did today. I am very very happy to be able to say that those few inches that were added to the doorway make a huge difference. It definitely leaves enough room for traffic so that the counter top can extend a full 20 cm over the edge of the cabinets without making it feel like the counter sticks out into the doorway. B had agreed to do the work but wasn't convinced it was necessary, even still this morning. As soon as the builders moved back to give us a look, then and only then did he realize that it was better. This is so frustrating for me. The man has no imagination. Unless he can see it with his own eyes, he's a sceptic.

Last night B and I spent about 2 hours hanging up plastic to isolate the area from the rest of the house and try and contain the dust. I think that it might have only taken them about 45 minutes to cut out the door frame, knock the door back and put in a new floor tile. Figures. AND there is still dust over 75% of the house. I cannot even begin to imagine what it is going to be like when they do the plastering. Of course, they refused to even try taking the wall up to the level of the kitchen ceiling. At the last minute I tried to push them into just going for it, arguing that it was only a possibility that the ceiling would fall out. The other possibility was that everything would be fine and I was feeling very lucky. No dice. Plus, they didn't even take out the wood framing above the door. I just have to keep telling myself that atleast its better than before.

It is so windy outside right now, all I want to do is cuddle up in bed with a nice book and take a nap. Ella and I have promised to go to a playgroup this afternoon for galette du roi. Wish we could skip it. Or else go in a taxi...

New coffeemaker, new life

Wow- this is the coffeemaker to end all coffeemakers, as I far as I am concerned. Check out that fine piece of stainless steel Swiss engineering. It was actually built in Switzerland, people. Nothing is actually built in Switzerland unless it goes 'cuckoo'. I had been quietly complaining about the price of this appliance that B insisted on having thinking that even a cheap model would have been a silly indulgence. I am now eating my words.

It got off to an inauspicious start. The coffeemaker was delivered Saturday morning -at 7:10 am. Have you ever even heard that it was possible for things to be delivered at that hour. Since Ella began sleeping through the night, I had forgotten that 7:10 am even existed. B and I were still sleeping so soundly and were so unprepared for a delivery to arrive early, that we didn't quite know what to do with ourselves. B banged madly at his alarm clock, trying to turn it off,only managing to turn on the clock radio, to blast Celine Dion at top volume (thanks Ella for fiddling with all the buttons) and I tried to scramble into some clothing but hadn't put my glasses on so could not even locate a pair of pants out of the mound of inindentifiable black clothing heaped on the floor. Finally, one of us had the clever idea to just go and answer the door, that someone being B. I gave up the fight and went back to sleep for a few hours, figuring no appliance was worth the effort.

Wrong wrong wrong. B had it all hooked up by the time I woke up. He had been stumped by the German instructions flashing across the command screen, but I sorted it out with some expert googling and we were off. I have been on a caffeine buzz ever since as I try to work my way through all the different functions. You see, this brilliant little coffeemaker can grind the beans as well as brew the coffee. It also steams milk, reheats drinks, provides boiling hot water for tea, and even folds the laundry. Well, ok, not the last one; but it does make all sorts of lovely types of coffee. Look at that coffee- doesn't it look delectable? Luckily, ella talked me into baking yet another batch of cupcakes (this one was chocolate-chocolate from Nigella's cookbook. Not bad. Closest recipe yet to duplicating the fluffiness of box cake, I think) so I have had something to nibble on as I sipped my way through the instruction manual.

I like it so much I am almost ready to tell B that he made a good choice. Almost.

Odds and Ends

Good god, have I had a miserable afternoon. I am trying to transfer all the important documents from my old computer to my new one and it is seriously doing my head in. I FINALLY figured out how to re-install outlook express so that I could get at my old addresses (it was incredibly simple and I am v.v. irritated with myself for not getting to it before Christmas when it would have been more useful.) only to find that there are not so many as I had remembered there being. Hmmm. Either the data was corrupted or I was imagining things. All that work and finally it would have been more useful to simply have noted down on paper all the addresses from the Christmas cards I sent. Now, I practically have to start from zero for next year. Sigh.

I also started taking the photos off of that computer so that I could transfer them to the new one. I have to transfer from mid-2006 because as I mentioned the other day, I haven't printed out photos and organized them into albums since then. Today, I swung by the stationary shop to pick up another album so atleast I can get started on that; I am feeling slightly overwhelmed by the size of the job all of a sudden. I have nearly a year and a half of photos to organize! Luckily, I really cut back on the photo shoots after Ella's first birthday but still- I think I will fill the 88 page photo album twice easily. I'll try to see what I have printed out and send off another batch of photos to be printed yet today. I had a bunch of photos printed off with kodakgallery and they are so crap that I think I might just put them directly in the trash. I used to really like Fnac prints but the photo place on rue St Antoine closed last year and I don't know if their online printing service will be so good. A friend of mine who took a photography class this year told me that the best place to have photos printed is Negatif + in the 10th. I remember it from when we lived over in that neighborhood, although I had never used it. Not only do they do prints of a much higher quality than most places but you can also have things printed onto unusual supports like aluminium, cardboard, and PVC. Ugh- I am not excited about this job at all, although I am less excited about the idea of putting off yet again and having an even bigger project for the fall.

Anyways, there is no point in getting some big project started before the worst of the work on the kitchen is done. B called me to say that the builders will be here tomorrow,
8 a.m. to take out the dining room door. That is going to be such a horrific mess I don't even want to think about it. Then the countertops are supposed to be delivered Wednesday morning and the plasterer should arrive on Thursday for two days of work. This means I better count on doing nothing more than disaster management until next Monday. The nice thing is that me and the cleaning lady are on the same page- we've agreed that until that kitchen project settles down, we are in a holding pattern but the minute it finishes, there will be a blitz of spring cleaning. Everything in this house needs to be washed down- all the walls, all the furniture, every single object. God- even the leaves on the plants are disgusting. It would be super if I could get my hands on the the tiles in the next week so that we could just have everything done but that is wishful thinking. In any case, I need to get on the phone to see if I can't get some tile samples sent to me here in France. The trip to NYC is looking like it might not happen soon since the airline tickets are not budging below 400 euro mark, which I think is too pricey. Besides, B is already having me make plans for a spring holiday (maybe Phoenix and Baja?) and I should maybe conserve my jetlag energy for that.

I don't have my kitchen done yet but that hasn't stopped me from planning parties! Against my better judgement (and slightly against my will) I agreed to host a Tupperware party in two weeks. I am not completely overjoyed about it but I am hoping to just have my playground moms over for a fews hours, with the Tupperware as a bit of a novelty in the background. Of course, per the usual, I have been planning on doing this for about 2 months now and realize that it is just around the corner and I haven't even sent out invites yet. Yikes. Just another thing to add to the to-do list. Then this morning in the bath it dawned on me that Ella's 3rd birthday is coming up in less than a month. Double yikes! Last year we didn't do anything special since we were all deathly ill. I think if I skip her birthday two years in a row, I am setting a dangerous precedent and am veering into Bad Mommy territory. I'm sure that this year, Ella would appreciate A Very Diego Birthday so I better get my order in to my US suppliers (hi mom!) for themed plates, hats, etc. Luckily, this cupcake kick I have been on means that I am on the top of my game as far as birthday cake goes. Now all I need to figure out is how to contain the energy of a room full of preschoolers? Actually. That is a trick question. There is no way to contain it- the best you can hope for is to survive it.

Also on the to-do list: 1.) Send out the REST of the bloody New Years Cards!! I have them sitting on my desk and haven't touched them since we arrived back in France. This is getting silly. The New Year has not started out with a burst of productivity, unfortunately. I am also dragging my feet getting back into my yoga and making appointments for haircuts, etc (although I did manage to get Miss Ella in the other day. After about 2 months of talking about it...)

Thanks to B, I did get to cross one thing off of my list. This morning, I popped over to the Mairie and signed up Ella for school next year. Its a funny feeling to realize how old she is getting. It feels like I am standing at the top of the slide. Next fall, when she starts school, I'll start the ride down and the next thing I know, I'll be at the bottom and Ella will be 18 years-old and moving out of the house, everything having passed in a blur. Not that I am getting overwrought about this or anything...

And dare I say it, but I think potty training is moving along nicely (so its not all bad that she is growing up). Today, she made it through the morning at school without a diaper and we've been 100% princess panties for nearly 4 days now with no major accidents. Of course, Ella has been highly encouraged by the bag of leftover Christmas candy that we bought the other day. If she poops on the potty or goes to the bathroom by herself she gets a 'Tahnta Totlate!!!' She has gone so far as to make a special "bed" for the bag of chocolates under the coffee table so that they are always in sight. She doesn't try and sneak any, which I think is rather amazing. But she does like to lay down next to the bag and pet it gently, while gazingly adoringly at the foil-wrapped goodness.

35 months

In the style of Dooce, lets do a little monthly update, although these have become very sporadic, its good to jot a few notes every now and again.

Lately, we have just been bowled over by how much more Ella is trying to speak. I shouldn't say 'try'- I should say that she is speaking and we are trying to understand what she says. The problem is that right now, she has a pretty even 50/50 split in her conversation between English and French. I never know which language she is speaking, however, until I do a bit of deciphering. Whats worse is that she doesn't necessarily remark on the fact that some people only speak one language and so she just expects the whole world to be bilingual French and English. Atleast I've finally found a way to teach my family more French. Between Ella's stubborn insistence on using certain words in French (like 'vite', or 'gateau' or 'cadeau' or 'lait') and her cute little puss, they can't help but participate in the language lessons. Honestly, if my father keeps it up at this rate, he'll be ordering in restaurants next time they come to visit!

She has really started mimicking us, which makes a huge difference in the rate that her language skills are progressing. Yes, we've already had to start rolling out the curses like 'oh, fiddlesticks' after an incident when I stubbed my toe and may or may not have cursed out the which I stumbled over, causing me to shout out a string of about 12 f)àç_', to be shouted back at me by Ella, as in "No maman! No G*ddù*!;: piece of s*$^_ sofa !" This is something I expected her to be doing about a year ago at the same time as all her Anglophone friends. She's definitely not caught up to them in English yet but I have noticed that she is far ahead of most of them in French. It looks like it will all work out in the end- not that we had any doubts about that but I definitely don't think that we would be where we are now if we hadn't gotten her orthophone classes started last spring. It was the little push that got everything rolling.

We've also started playing lots of letter games. Ella wants to go through billboards, pointing out letters for me to say and then asks for a word that starts with that letter. She's really good at remembering the 'good' letters. E for Ella; M for mommy; D for daddy; etc. Sometimes she gives me a letter and I can't think of a really good word off the top of my head, or I think of teh wrong word. We were on the bus the other day and I mistakenly gave her P is for poopoo. Good one, Nicole. You know a really fun game? Ride the entire length of the Blvd St Germain and count the number of 'P's that you see. According to my memory, from that very embarrassing busride, there are something like 4000.

She is slowly making some progress on the potty training front, although I don't want to jinx things by getting into it too much. She adores her blue princess panties and wants to wear them all the time. Unfortunately, she doesn't actually want to the use the potty alot more than previously so there is a bit of a problem there...

She has really impressed us lately by her ability to play by herself, to invent games and not need any sort of help from us or the television to stay entertained. Oh- I don't want to give the impression that suddenly we have turned off the tv and DVD's. She's hardly given up on her favorite game of all. But now she can spend an hour in her room, monkeying around with toys or books and will not even get into any trouble. I've also organized her toys differently since vacation so that we have a stack of drawers next to her table in the office with markers, paints, stamps and inks, playdoh, shaping tools, etc so she maybe has more stuff available to her than before. Maybe these things just let her play independently for longer.

Obviously she is very into the idea of 'Ella do it!' and so in that vain one of her best Christmas presents was the baking kit from Grandma. She loves being in the kitchen and watching things cook. She loves to stir any bowl that she finds unattended (to my great regret...) and is always trying to participate. I try really hard to always says yes. That is, whenever it is safe, I try to say yes and ignore whatever voice is screaming in my head 'but look at the time! It'll never be ready if you let her help!' If you know me, this is HUGE. But it costs me nothing and it puts such a look of sheer joy on her face to be helping make dinner that it is absolutely worth eating at midnight, only one of the many sacrifices I expect that I will make over the next 20 years or so...

Winter sales report

What a disaster. I headed straight over to Bon Marché and immediately got distracted and veered madly off course. So many people! Normally, its a nice relaxing shop over there even on the worst days but the crowds were a bit crazy. And of course, people were doing that thing that always makes me a bit frantic- you look at an item and have just barely put it back when some crazy woman dashes in from stage left and snatches it up like it is Frodo's ring. You start thinking that maybe you didn't get a good enough look. Maybe, instead of being overpriced tat, its actually EXACTLY WHAT YOU NEED TO COMPLETE YOUR EXISTENCE!! You move slightly to the side and pretend to be absorbed by something else, all the while watching the now desperately coveted item out of the corner of your eye. The minute that pushy woman scuttles off, you dive in to grab the rejected item. You glance over it again and realize how truly fabulous it really is. How could you have been so stupid to set it down and almost lose it?! Sure, its not your size, but thats what a tailor is for. And that makeup stain down the front will be really simple to get out with a bit of stain remover. And yeah, the ruffles all over the front are a bit... ruffly, but its the kind of trendy thing that will totally update the rest of your wardrobe. And 40% off! Which means that it will use up 80% of your shopping budget... But if you don't buy it now, it will be gone forever! If you are lucky, there is a really long queue at the caisse and while you wait, you come to your senses and abandon the item. Lucky for me, there were lines yesterday.
I walked through the purse area on my way to the escalators and very nearly blew my entire wad of cash on a Zac Posen bag. It was a beautiful bag, but would have been the ultimate impulse purchase, so I put it back. Then I noticed an enormous collection of bags at Salvatore Ferragamo (not a brand that normally catches my eye) and found a really lovely black bag. Again, I decided to take note and come back later if I find my wool coat. Up the stairs and into the thick of things, I moved from stand to stand and could not find a thing that I liked. I was starting to get a bit depressed. How grim things must be if I could pass the afternoon at Bon Marché with a wallet full of cash and not spend it. By this time I had reached the shoe section. If there is one thing that I absolutely don't need, its a new pair of shoes, I told myself. Next thing I know, I am walking out of the shoe department with a pair of Tod's flats (for the park! very useful!) that cost nearly half my budget. Sigh.
Then I veered over to the jeans area to use the toilet before heading home and I was drawn back into the feeding frenzy by the tables of 50% designer jeans and the empty changing rooms. 45 minutes later I managed to find the pair of jeans I had been looking for all season- dark blue wide leg for those of you keeping score- for a mere 50 euro, or roughly 70% off. I was skipping out of the store, happy in the knowledge that I had a useful purchase and a good deal in my bag, when I passed through an area that I had missed on my first swing through the women's area. I had the time, so I just thought I would peek around for my coveted black coat and what did I find- the coat to end all coats.

Alexander McQueen. Black wool. A beautiful fabric. A gorgeous cut. A little long, but easily hemmed. And 40% off. The price would have been perfect, if I hadn't already spend half my money. I thought about putting on my card and just dealing with B later, but after going back and forth on it for about 10 minutes, I hung it back up. I thought I might have seen the same coat on Net-a-porter that morning. I would check first before buying.

Well, once home, I saw that it wasn't the coat I liked best but another model (although it was nearly 80 euro cheaper online). I mentioned it to B and if he had had the cash this morning, I could have gone to get it. I also could have returned the stupid shoes, that I didn't particularly need. But B didn't have cash and I didn't really feel like dashing all the way over there to be disappointed. Blah, all that planning and strategizing for nothing. The only real success was that I didn't go down to the children's department. That has been my downfall these last few years. I end up spending a ton on Ella, clothes that she ends up barely wearing since she has so many things. One lesson learned, atleast.

Maybe this afternoon ella and I will do a bit more shopping. I wanted to go over to Maison des vacances to see about picking up some new pillows for the living room. I also wanted to peek at BHV to see if they had put their Kitchenaids on sale, since I finally have counterspace for one. And maybe a flattening iron as well? I think I might have to wait til week 2 or 3 before trying to venture inside BHV. When I passed last night, it was like an ant hill that someone had just stepped on. Little black insects pouring out of the doors, scurrying in all directions with their oversized packages clutched under their arms.

Ah, les soldes. What a nightmare.

Pre-sales planning

Its the eve of the January sales- do you know where your dream handbag is on sale for 60% off? that classic black wool coat that you couldn't afford in a million years? those silly yellow heels that will only get worn a handful of times, therefore never justifying their price? I'm not exactly sure but I think tomorrow I will be heading over to the Bon Marché directly because that is where I always have my best luck. My best sales tip? Go into the designer boutiques around the perimeter of the shop because they everything on sale, often at 50% off, from the first day because they need to clean out all their stock. Great for things like sunglasses that seem to never go on sale in other places.

I would really love a new big black bag but am in serious trouble because I haven't had the energy to do any pre-sale reconnaisance missions. I have been lusting for a bit after the YSL Downtown. My sister-in-law has one and until I saw her with it, I thought I hated it. In photos, I thought it looked really silly. In reality, the leather is so gorgeous and soft that I can't believe her husband bought her story that it was a fake she picked up on the street for 20 euro. The bad thing about having your husband in the clothing business is that he has an eagle eye for thing like that... Of course the positive side is that if I do happen to splurge, he has the good sense to acknowledge that the quality is excellent. But like I said, I don't know where to go looking for one of those on sale, although I assume looking for one would be like looking for leprechans or unicorns. Low probability of success.

So, although I always consider a new purse the best way to spend my winter sales budget, I think that priority number one this year is a black wool coat. I have a really basic model that I bought 8 years ago at Cacharel and I think that it is up for retirement. The fabric is gorgeous and doesn't have any sign of wear. BUT I ripped a belt loop off years ago and couldn't figure out an easy way to replace it. This year the second belt loop fell off so luckily I could just wear it with a wide leather belt and not only did I solve the belt loop problem but it looks quite modern. On the other hand, the ripped pocket (from Ella hanging on me one day) just looks trashy. And the shredded lining for the sleeve? It makes it impossible to wear this coat anywhere where it might require removal. So that means, I am only able to throw it on to go to the park or the grocery store. I suppose since those are about the only two reasons I leave the house on the average week day, the coat is still very very useful. I might as well just admit the real reason- I am bored bored bored with my boring old black wool coat. I saw the most beautiful coat from Zac Posen on net-a-porter, the Boulevard, but it looks a bit odd when left open- but since I found it for only 400 euro on ebay, I was very very tempted to buy it anyways. But then I started looking a bit more and, when skimming the sales items, I spied this Vanessa Bruno coat which I think is very cool. B thinks it looks absolutely useless as a winter coat; he's probably right. But, if I figure I might end up wearing the coat for 8 years, I figure I can spend a bit more than I think reasonable, right? In that case, why not this one? Anyways, I will go out looking tomorrow and atleast I have an idea of what I can find for a certain price range. The worst thing is getting caught up in the sales mob mentality and coming home with bags and bags of crap.

A few sale success techniques to remember:

* always shop alone. No time to waste waiting for your girlfriend to make up her mind about the identical pairs of black heels
*wear a skirt and ballet slippers so that you don't waste any more time than necessary in the changing room (and can even to an emergency essayage in the middle of the racks, when required)
*decide what you can spend and withdraw it in cash. That way, you will only spend what you can really afford.
*Go to the department stores first where you see lots of different brands and when you aren't sure about something, buy it. At all the grands magasins, you can return your purchases even when they are on sale, so long as you keep the ticket. Buy from the boutique only if you know won't try to return the item and then ask for an extra 10% off (since you are paying in cash)
*buy classic, quality items that build your wardrobe. Buy trendy things at the beginning of the season (preferably from a cheap brand) so that you get the most wear out of them.

Wish me good hunting.

More kitchen photos

In the last two photos you can see the problem with removing this door frame. If we could take the wall out to the ceiling it would mimic the entrance from the living room/hall, which would look great (especially since we had to leave a jog in the ceiling in between the old kitchen and the old hall.) But from the other side of the door, you can see how the ventilation arrives just where we want to do work. The builder said that the ceiling in this section is already fragile since it used to be held up by the wall which we removed. If we were to take out all the support on the other side, it would very likely crack, especially since we aren't entirely certain how much the ceiling is holding up the vents .

You can also see through the doorway how much the island is sticking out into the flow of traffic. By removing the door frame entirely and adding this 15 cm on the lefthand side (as you look from the dining room into the kitchen) I am hoping that it won't feel so awkward. Its moments like this when you appreciate how much a professional, like an interior architect, can help because they have enough experience to know what it will end up looking like whereas I just have to rely on my imagination. One thing that I am certain of- I want a clean look and this door, with the fussy molding and tricolor paint job, is too messy to stay.