Of course, the real reason for the trip to Manaus is to see the Meeting of the Waters, where the Rio Negro meets the Rio Solemoes and turns into the Amazon. The two rivers are different colors and end up running alongside each other for something like 6 miles before they finally mix. It seems like a bit of a tall tale, designed to get the tourists out on another silly boat tour but it was absolutely true and pretty impressive to boot. We saw dolphins playing in the water since there is a huge amount of fish at this point in the river, although I didn't manage to see any of the pink ones. Shame- how cute must that be?!

It took us literally hours to get there on the boat which was sooo boring- although they had a few coolers full of soda and beer for us. I finally managed to taste a Guarana Antartica, the local drink. I think that Red Bull is actually a base of guarnica, a hyper caffienated berry that grows in the rainforest. This drink is somewhere between a Coke and a Red Bull, I guess. Its quite sweet and fizzy and after drinking about one an hour for the duration of the boat ride, boy was I ready to kick some piranha ass on our fishing trip. Seriously guys, I could have paddled us up the river faster than the motor was pushing our little fishing canoe. Laugh, but I managed to hook the biggest fish of the day. It was so funny though because here we were out hunting for these little devil fish, half shitting ourselves thinking of them swarming around in the water under our (scary rickety) fishing boat, and what do they give us for gear? A cane pole, a tiny little hook, and a paper cup of cut up steak. I was kind of hoping for something more like chain mail and and an ax, you know?

We went out into this reserve area and hiked into the jungle a bit to see the giant lily pads and also get assaulted by children with jungle animals gripped under their arms for photo ops; I made B hug a sloth. The little baby sloth got one brush with B's furry chest and I think that he thought he had discovered his long lost daddy. Too funny- especially since that animal reeked to the high heavens and B had to grimace through every photo. I absolutely refused to pick up any of the animals offered; I did not want to hug a caiman or an anaconda or anything else on offer. Call me a spoilsport, I had had my fill with the monkeys.

On the boat ride back to the hotel, we layed out on the deck in the sun and drank beer, which was a super nice ending to an exciting of

day of jungle trekking and animal molesting. We saw some dark clouds on the horizon and all of us stupid tourists lazily discussed the possibility of it raining that night. As they blew closer and the sky got darker, we joked about how likely it was that it would rain before we reached the hotel. The look on the face of our guide should have tipped me off but i was still shocked by how sudden it went from steamy and sunny to a reenactment of Noah's Ark. Good lord, let me assure that there is a valid reason that the call it the rainforest. It was throwing down buckets on us and when we did finally arrive at the hotel, no one managed to make it to the reception dry- regardless of the length and breadth of their raincoat. B and I decided it would be better to simply embrace the wetness and went and put our swimsuits on. I think the rain was coming down twice as hard as the water in our little shower- and the temperature was pretty similar, thats to say, icey. You might notice that I have a showercap on. The problem with the rainforest is that it is sooooo damp that nothing dries out and my hair was already so frizzy and out of control that I didn't feel up to dealing with another mop of crazy person curls. My haircut which had looked Posh Spice cool in Paris had turned into Betty White when I stepped off the airplane in Rio. So awesome when the camera is out 24/7. Sigh.

A few days in the Amazon

Although our plane tickets seemed to imply that it was a direct 6 hour flight from Rio to Manaus, in fact, we had to stop in Sao Paolo and after we got off, the flight continued on to Caracas. Apparently this is the norm in Brazil- very few direct flights from one destination to another and lots of these "circuits". It wasn't that big of deal to us except for when we first arrived at the airport and could not find our flight listed on the departures board. There was some serious panicking until we finally found someone who understood enough of our pigeon Portuguese to tell us to just get in the (40 person long...) check-in line. I was still freaking out because I figured by the time we got the front of the line and were presumably able to get an explanation from the agent it would be too late to fix the problem, ie all the other flights to Manaus would already have left. It was only after having some special ticket-like things given to us by the (non-English speaking) boss ticket agent and getting sent to the international terminal that we managed to figure out what was going on.

I should say right here that we had a sort of difficult time since there were so few people who spoke English, even in the big tourist areas, like the airport. Both B and I speak quite a bit of Spanish but even this wasn't too useful. Generally, though, I was able to understand what they were saying and B was able to be understood through a very creative use of his Spanish. Its not that I expect people to speak to me in my language when I'm in their country, it was just a bit of a surprise. English is so universal now that generally in tourist traps you can atleast get your point across if you keep it simple and are good at charades. I suppose it has a lot to do with the sheer size of the country, but even more so with how much internal culture they have. In Europe, you are used to finding American movies and TV shows and music everywhere, so its not surprising that its easy to find people who understand a bit of English. Just as an example, at the airports, when I went looking for a magazine for the airplane I would look through a wall covered with roughly 150 different magazines and not a single one would be in English. There were the odd magazines in Spanish, but really only a few.

Lucky for us, at the jungle lodge where we were staying, we were assigned a guide, Nielson, that spoke perfect English and French! I had read about the Amazon Eco Park in a guide book and found good reviews of it on the Internet so I was really happy to manage to get a room there. We had the best time at this hotel that I can't recommend it enough. We didn't have very much time scheduled for this part of our trip so I decided on this place in large part due to the fact that it was only about a 20 minute boat ride from the docks (although probably more like an hour and a half from the main Manaus boat landings.) We had a really simple little cottage to stay in which was a good 10 minute walk through the jungle from the reception buildings. We were told if we ever found a big snake on the path we just needed to throw a big stick at it, an instruction that didn't make me love the hike back to the room at night but did make me feel a little more like an intrepid jungle explorer (which I am sure they intended) and less like a fat lazy tourist. The Park does a lot of education on the Amazonian ecosystem and even though we didn't sign up for any of the lectures we did get to visit the Monkey reserve, where I was very generously volunteered by Nielson as main monkey perch for the photoshoot. Sounds like fun until you have a nervous monkey clutching your skull with his long monkey toes, shaking sand down your tank top and wrapping his freaky tail around your throat- a tail that feels like a really big calloused finger. Actually, that doesn't quite capture the weirdness of the sensation. I'm such a ham, though, I'll do anything for a good photo. We didn't manage to get down to the Bird reserve but had quite a bit of fun with the two parrots that hung out in the bar area (I think this gives you a good idea of our priorities while on vacation), begging banana chips off the guests. Nielson also dragged us to the "Indian Village" to see a tribe of locals do some dancing for us. I hate stuff like this because it seems like you're treating people like animals in the zoo. In the end, that was a bit silly, because it was more like going to see a little show while their kids poked us in the back of the head with sticks. What I REALLY ended up hating was being dragged out to participate in the dancing. Ugh. And of course, B immediately turned on the video and started taping me stomping around like a dancing bear next to this tiny little naked man, to a soundtrack of him giggling madly in the background. And like good tourists, we then blew all our cash on silly souvenirs. Well, Christmas was just around the corner, seemed like a good chance to find something better than gift certificates (don't know if my siblings quite agree...) but honestly, how many lucky people found a blow dart gun under the Christmas tree? A blow dart with real piranha teeth on it? I probably would have bought a dozen if we had had the money.

View from the Corcovado of the bay of Rio

Greetings from Brazil

We made it! Despite mounting evidence on Friday that I would absolutely not be ready in time, we made it to the airport on time, with everything we needed. Plus, with Ella gone, I managed to fit in a trip to a Power Plate gym (which I loved and now wish that I had started doing a month ago considering that I have hardly put on clothes since we landed in Brazil) and go out to a club on Thursday night AND have lunch with a girlfriend on Friday AND AND get all my Christmas shopping done. With all that productivity, its no wonder that I slept soundly for 9 hours on the plane. Poor B wasn't so lucky.

And sadly, although the location of our hotel here in Leblon is fabulous, our room is located right beneath the events room and we have been unable to sleep due to either weddings or wedding preps or wedding clean-up. The upside is that B has said that he won't be paying for the room last night due to said noise and so we can maybe spend an extra night at our gorgeous hotel in Buzios.

The beach is beach-y, but the waves are specatular! Huge crashing waves pounding the sand and its all churning white foam washing away your flip-flops, and drowning surfers and salty spray. Would like it much better if the drinks didn't cost so much on the beach. Basically, we paid 15 euro yesterday for a beer and a pina colada. Call me a lush, but on my tropical beach holidays, I like there to always be something coconutty in my hand and at those prices it is not happening. In fact, prices here seem to be more or less the same as Paris. I'm sure that there are cheap places but everyone keeps freaking us out with stories about getting mugged and warning us to stick to the nice well-known places. I hadn't really thought of Rio as dangerous but now I'm too skittish to test out my theory. Skittish and sober- bad combination.

Anyways, this afternoon (after changing hotel rooms) we are heading up to Corcovado to take photos with the Big Jesus and then over to Copacabana beach to oggle the girls in their brazilian strings. Talk about buns of steel- yesterday we bumped into a bunch of Samba dancers, as you do, and their asses were a sight to be seen. Honestly, the feathers and sequins were just distracting from the real show, which was their amazing physique. I could do Power Plate every day for a year and I could still only dream of looking like that. Sigh. This really is a country of have and have nots.

Peeka-blue

I have to make a note of this because even though it is evidence of my rather subpar mothering skills, it is very very funny. I know that the picture is really blurry, but basically all I want you to notice is that my child has been dyed blue, from the tip of her nose, all the way to her knees, backside as well. Now, I'm sure that you're thinking that I will tell you a story of ella dumping ink on herself, or making a pen explode, or something like that. Nope; this was all me. Or rather, all due to my stupid pediatrician who suggested that this might help her rash disappear. B tried to make me stop, but I didn't want her going away to the grandparents house and getting more sick so I just went for it and covered every thing that looked even vaguely rashy. I don't know if the rash actually looked any better afterwards, but you certainly don't bother noticing it when the child is covered in indelible blue ink. OK- and maybe I didn't realize immediately how much this stuff stained skin, and maybe it was good intentions that made me paint it all over her face, but it was simply not nice to laugh so hard that I had tears streaming down my face when I realized that Ella was going to have to go to school, to the park, through the streets of Paris, and to her grandparents house looking like a Giant Blueberry. Ella didn't mind, though. She kept lifting up her pyjama shirt and shouting 'Boo! Ella boo!' Look that happy little face, while she does her little nekkid blueberry dance. How can you not laugh?

(side note: Ever since Ella was a baby, B has called her Peekachoo. Its too early to tell for sure, but I think from here on out, she will officially be known as Peek-a-blue)

interview recap

Alright-
Just got home from the interview and it went ok. Not fabulously well, and I was irritated on my bus ride home thinking of all the brilliant interviews that I did for stupid jobs while this interview, for a job which seems even more perfect now that I have the inside scoop, was just average. I lost my vocabulary a bit. Also, I like to practice in my head the answer to questions like what is your strong/weak point, etc. I didn't do that so I ended up sort of floundering around, which is such a waste when its easy to have a good answer down pat. I couldn't think of the word 'transacation', which was just nerves. I didn't have to deal with any direct questions about my French level, which may be a good sign (she didn't see any reason to ask me) or a bad sign (it was so evident that I am NOT bilingual). Hopefully, I'll hear something before holiday.
I had a bit of a crisis this morning which sucked up a bunch of my prep time- I didn't know what to wear and had no one to ask for help. I know that this is a very traditional French company so I thought that a black skirt suit would be the right thing, but B told me to wear my grey Sonia Rykiel pants suit. I tried them both on and I still liked the black suit better but I realized that I don't have any good black office heels. I decided to wear my new animal print Manolos, but got super worried that even with a black suit and black tights that it would be a bit too flash for a very buttoned up business. I decided at the last minute that changing into my new glasses would balance out the heels, because glasses are nerdy and serious, everyone knows that. Ooo- I just realized that maybe it looked like I was dressing up as 'naughty librarian'. Gosh, I think that the leap from stay-at-home mom to financial wizard may be more of a shock to the system than I thought...
Anyways, I came home to an empty house because Ella's grandma picked her up extra early; I didn't even get to say good-bye. I figured it was better that way because if they waited for me, maybe Ella would get upset and then the poor woman would have to sit in Paris traffic with a screaming toddler, and frankly, just trying to keep sane while battling traffic is enough for one person.

Nerves are getting to me

I am generally immune to nerves- I don't get nervous about anything. I just figure that I will prepare myself and do my best and whatever happens after that was meant to be. But right now, I am a ball of nerves. I am really really worried about this interview because I want it so much, and I know that the fact that I don't write very well in French could knock me out of the competition before it even gets started.

The worst part is that I had decided that I would take advanced French classes, starting in September, because any job I would want to have at this point would be one where I would have to have a really good handle on the written language. If you are just some office gopher, it doesn't matter so much, but I couldn't get by on my "street" French any more. I told B my plan and said that I wanted to start looking around at programs, although I thought it best to do the Sorbonne course. He immediately said, "No no no. What a waste of money! You can do it at Berlitz and my office can pay for it because... (very long complicated explanation that somehow involves cheating the tax man or something. Sorry, I didn't really pay attention. Suffice it to say, its the sneaky sort of thing only a Frenchman would think worth the effort.) So I agree to let him sort out the inscription and I wait. Except a few weeks go by and he doesn't say anything. For various reasons, he put me off every time I mention it and voila! I get an interview for my dream job, which appears to require me to spend my days writing reports in French and who has still not started French class? Why, me! And suddenly B has changed his tune and said that it wasn't him putting off the classes, all I had to do was make an appointment at the school. He looked at me blankly when I repeated back to him all the excuses he had made over the past 3 months, as if he hadn't the slightest idea what I was talking about.

Arg. Its not his fault. I should have just signed up for classes after a week went by with no news from him. If I really thought it was important, I wouldn't have let all this time pass while I did nothing. Its just so frustrating to think that no matter what I do tomorrow, this job is probably going to slip through my fingers. Even if they don't notice that my level of French is not up to par, I know that it would be pretty impossible for me to bluff my way through my trial period, if I did manage to get hired. Being fired would be humiliating, which is probably a bit worse than just being a bit frustrated.

Oh, well. Nothing I can do about it now. I'll just go to bed tonight, clinging to the hope that their office produces their reports in English.

Anyways, I didn't spend all day crying about my appalling French. I also listened to the Mika CD and danced in front of the mirror, pretending that I was trying to make Ella laugh but really it was just because I liked the music so much. (I'll admit it, sometimes I like have a little kid around because you can excuse any dorky behaviour by saying it was a joke to make the baby laugh.) Ok- I know that this isn't a brand new release and I think I might have already heard every song on the CD, but I loved it! Its such fun fun music. I even took a break from my studying to install I-Tunes on the new computer so that I could have the music on my ipod. Which didn't actually work. I had to go and wrestle with my broken laptap to get it uploaded, but hey. I think that we have firmly established my total lack of techie skills.

AND I had one super good piece of news today- B's stepmom is picking up Ella on Thursday morning to take her to the country. We don't leave for Brazil til Friday night so that means I get a bonus day and a half at home with no baby. I am almost more thrilled about that than I am about the Brazil holiday. I have soooo many things to get done and now I finally have a fighting chance at getting through my list. Plus, we get to have a wild Thursday night out and we don't even have to get a babysitter!! Even crazier, I might be able to meet a friend for lunch. For me, that is like the Holy Grail- 2 hours in the middle of the day to eat a relaxing meal, without having to drag anyone out from under the table or dash home before the bill even arrives or just sitting down at the table and realizing that someone drew a giant 'E' on my trouser leg with pink marker.

Right now, I am trying to decide between having another glass of red wine and doing some more serious interview prep. On the one hand, I need to go through a few more things for tomorrow. Like what am I going to wear?!!! On the other hand, the bottle of wine is a 2007 Beaujolais which is lovely, if you haven't tried it yet. (Rasberries. Very fruity and drinkable.) And we bought Season 1 of Heros this weekend, which has turned out to be a lot more fun to watch than I thought it would be. Hmmm. Tough one.

impending death

Sorry for the silence- I have an excuse though. My computer is dying. Well, to be exact, the screen is slowly falling off my laptop which is making it impossible to use. Also, have had a few things going on, so lets bullet point it:
- on top of 8 million things to do for Christmas preps and holiday, I have a MEGA IMPORTANT job interview on Wednesday; I would love to work for this company and the job description is like reading off my CV, but this being France, I know that I have atleast 5 interviews to go before I get an offer and I am trying not to get my hopes up. All the same, I have been studying up day and night to be prepared for everything and anything
- Got my hair cut super short. I went in for a trim and my stylist said that long hair was boring and I should just whack it all off, do something much more modern . I just cannot be bothered to have an opinion on hair styles, so I said, "Go for it. Anything you want." Its very... Victoria Beckham. I like it. I've gotten tons of compliments so I think he chose well. But like I said, I do not have any space in my brain right now for thinking about my hair so it is what it is.
- I finally got my Brazilian visa. With all the stupid transport problems in Paris, I didn't manage to get over there last week. I popped in today with Ella and had it straight away- plus, they gave me a 5 year visa, which is a bit weird. Anyways, that went fine, and then B called and asked me to meet him to do computer shopping. So rather than take line 1 home, I tried to get a bus to the Opera. Long story short, no buses, and Ella fell asleep in her stroller, so I ended up walking all the way from Alma Marceau to Sully Morland, which for those of you not on top of Paris landmarks is a long fucking way to walk in the cold. I was just about home and I heard Ella moving around, so I stop to talk to her and see that she has taken her hat off. Its not on the ground, its not slid down behind her, its not in her hand. She clearly took it off and tossed it when I wasn't looking and its gone. Which would have been no big deal if she had been wearing her own hat. But no. See, she was being a typical two-year-old and refused to wear her own hat today.But it is so cold out, that I asked if she would rather wear my brand new gorgeous soft hat that I bought only after searching for something perfect for the last few weeks. I know you are not supposed to call your kid names, especially on the internet, so I won't. But I'm thinking them really hard right now. This is a thankless job, if you hadn't noticed, and I am suddenly much more motivated to go and spend my days with grown-ups and not small people who scream at me from the other room to come and pick up the booger on their finger.
-Ooh- just got a call from B. He has bought me a new laptop. I was really hoping to replace this one with another Samsung but no luck finding them in stock at places in central Paris. And since it is impossible to move around Paris at the present time, I ended up with a Toshiba, for not better reason than the fact that it is a 17 inch screen with a number pad on the side and they had it in stock. One more thing off my To-Do list.
-Remember the stupid French girl that I said was useless and I wouldn't work with her anymore? Well she called me to say that she was free all week for babysitting if I needed her. SO, being a strong believer in second chances, I said I must have misjudged her and asked her to come the next day so that I could go to an appointment. The day arrives, and due to transport problems, I ask if she can come an half hour earlier and she says she will try. Instead of a knock on the door, I get a phone call at the appointed hour - she went out to the banlieu in the middle of the transport strike and was shocked to find that there were no trains to get her in to Paris. So she would have to cancel. Okay, either this girl is phenomenally stupid or ridiculously optimistic to think that she had a snowball chance in hell of getting a train in the first place. But worse, I had no time to find a backup babysitter so I had to haul Ella with me across Paris in the cold to my appointment with the optometrist. (People, if you saw the horrible glasses I have been wearing, you would know that it was not an option to cancel this appointment. I NEEDED new glasses).
- So I got new glasses. They are the cutest! B wanted me to get some very rectangular tortoise shell frames, but I picked out a brown metal pair from MaxMara which I love. There were some sort of big plastic frame Phillipe Starck frames which I thought were really cool and B thought made me look even more dorky than the former glasses so that didn't work. But here is the crazy thing- the frames cost far less than I expected, I was really happy when I found out the price. But due to the fact that I am practically blind, the actual glass cost 500 euro. That is about the same price as having laser surgery on one of my eyes. When I saw the bill, my mouth hit the table. Honestly, next summer I am absolutely having the surgery and getting rid of my glasses forever.
- How is it that 5 close friends have had babies in the last month? In a way, it is very practical because if the metro ever starts running again, I'll run over to my fav baby boutique and pick-up 5 of the same gift, through them in boxes, and do one drop off at the post-office. But honestly, I wish they all could have just squeezed their legs together tight for a few more weeks so I didn't have to think about this til after Christmas.
-And this may not be news to anyone else, but geez, I cannot believe how every single person in this city is in a vile mood due to the transport strike. EVERYBODY. We are all just bitching at each other at the drop of a hat and I am so ready to go on holiday. Doesn't even have to be while you are trying to get on a train/bus/etc. It could just be in line at the grocery store. Its just that you spend all day fighting to get from one place to another and then once you get there, you have to worry about how you'll get home. Stress stress stress. Dear French workers, you are a bunch of moan-y assholes. Give me back my metro. Love, nicole (Except not really love)

We had a nice quiet weekend here. Dinner at a friend's house on Saturday night and a lazy Sunday lunch at Cafe Baci before we all collapsed into bed for a nap. Honestly, what a luxury, being able to sleep in the middle of the day. Ella deserves a pony for allowing B and me this rare rare treat. And while its lovely that my husband still likes me enough to think that when I say I'm going to take a nap in the afternoon, he automatically thinks "nap" (wink, wink) , I was even happier that he left me alone so that I could actually sleep. I don't even care if this means we have turned a corner in our relationship. Sometimes a girl is just too damned tired, know what I mean? The stress of this kitchen project is wearing me down. All I dream about is granite countertops, undercupboard lighting, and inner cabinet storage systems. How sad is that? At the very least it is a sign that I am well into middle-age. Twenty year old hipsters do not dream about lazy susan corner cabinets.

On Saturday morning, B took off work so that we could try and make some kitchen deco decisions but it wasnt' meant to be. We drove all the way out to the marble warehouse- only to find that it was closed exceptionally for the holiday on Sunday. Because they not only take off the holiday but ALSO the eve of the holiday, when the holiday falls on a Sunday. Talk about having to read the small print. Geesh. So we drove all the way back to Paris and managed to get Ella to danse class, then thought we would pop into a few tile stores on Blvd St Germain while we waited for her.

Again, the universe was just giving us the middle finger, to make sure that we know that nothing about this project is going to be easy, because we wandered into Carrelages du Sud which has gorgeous gorgeous stuff, so much that I was like a kid in a candy shop. Each drawer is organized like a mini tear sheet, with different floor tiles, wall tiles, and countertops put together so that you can see all the different possibilities. It is just a huge inspiration looking at their stuff. And they have a design service. So rather than lay awake nights trying to figure out what stupid tile to put on the floor, I could have walked in this shop a month ago and had it all done in an hour or two. Sigh. Of course, B and I saw a sample of a gray wall tile with metal bands running through it and fell in love immediately, thinking that it would be perfect on the two walls nearest the eating area in the kitchen. B thought it was fairly well priced when he read the ticket - 80 euro. But then the salesman explained that it wasn't 80 euro a m², it was 80 euro a tile. A tile, my friends. That means that it is about 500 euro the m². And we have atleast 4 or 5 m² to tile. So we are still thinking about that...

This morning we went back to the granite warehouse (for the 3rd time) and I think that we have made the decision. We are either going to use a very light colored stone called St Croix or a more gray and beige called Jura for the countertops. Its going to mean a few months of treatments on the stone to make it impervious to staining, so we'll be covering everything with plastic and glass and wooden cutting boards to try and keep it clean but I think will be worth it. I really think it will look a lot more elegant and expensive using a very plain stone than some wild marble. Of course, as we walked out of the lot, we both looked whistfully at the slabs of white Carrera marble and the beautiful Calcutta Gold. The thing about the stone countertops is that even if they get destroyed, they aren't that expensive and it won't be that much of a disaster to have them replaced. On the other hand, the white marble is more fragile and more expensive, so its just too risky. OR is it...

Anyways, I can hear little miss E banging around in her room while she supposedly rests. Generally, I would just leave her to it for the entire nap period, figuring she'll fall asleep eventually but today I think I will just take her out with me to run some errands. Did I tell you that I thought I had found a new daytime sitter? And this sitter told me she would be available all last week? And then everytime I called, she was unavailable? Well, originally I was going to have her babysit today so I could get some stuff done. Now, I am so pissed off about how unreliable she is that I think I'll have her just once more, so I can pay for the 4 hours she did babysit and then fire her. Honestly, if she is like this the very first week of work, when she is trying to make a good impression, how can I count on her at all? Maybe I am too impatient but I just cannot stand when people waste my time. I want to pay someone who wants to earn money, not someone who acts like they are doing me a favor by coming around occasionally to watch tv while my kid takes a nap. Maybe its the same everywhere but I have to admit that I have had a fairly long string of bad experiences with my French house help and their rather shabby work ethic. I want to grab some of these people by the shoulders and give them a good shake while explaining that having a work ethic is actually a good thing.

I better just plan on staying in on Wednesday. If I run into a crowd of striking fonctionnaires, my head will probably explode from suppressed rage.

Success!

I had to roll out of bed about an hour earlier than I would have liked, but it was all for a good cause- I managed to get in the door for the Maria Luisa sale with the first bunch of shoppers and I snagged three pairs of Manolos and a gorgeous white leather coat from Vivienne Westwood. I wore the jacket out last night and I just felt so incredibly sexy, even though I was just wearing jeans and a T-shirt with it. I think that there is just something about the way VW cuts her clothes that give an ultra-feminine shape. This is something that is going to get worn to death, I can already tell. They actually didn't have a very big choice for shoes. Lots of plain black heels, which I suppose are useful but just a bit boring, you know. The selection of Pierre Hardy heels was much more interesting but in the end, I decided classic Manolos were my best bet. Everything was more or less 80% off. Now, that is what I call a sale. Of course, the actual press got to go through the shop last night so I couldn't find any Alaia, which made me a bit sad as I had seen a really gorgeous navy blue dress at the beginning of summer that I would have loved to get my hands on. As far as I could tell there wasn't any Tomas Maier either, which would have definitely made the trip down there worthwhile. Anyways, I spent my allotted budget twice so its not as if I should have bought anything more.


B and I went out last night to see the film Supergrave (I think the original title is Superbad). Obviously, B choose the film although I agreed that I thought it might be good because the main character, Michael Cera, was so great in Arrested Development. I can't lie- I laughed really hard. Not at everything- I'm not the 15-year-old boy that the film is aimed at, but enough to have made it a good night out. I like Judd Apatow films. I like Seth Rogan. (And now I may be stating the obvious but..) I am not a film buff, I have no pretentions in that direction, but when I pay a fortune for a night at the movies, I want to be entertained. And sometimes, when I am playing with Ella and I see her laughing like a maniac over the stupidest stuff, I get a bit jealous trying to remember the last time I laughed that hard. Its a sad truth that when you are an adult, going about your day in the ordinary way, you just don't laugh out loud very often. It feels good to laugh, I believe everyone of those studies that supposedly proves that laughing can cure illnesses and improve your health.

Although, having said that, ancedotal evidence in our own house at the present time is a bit weak. This morning, B and I overslept and I thought that I would have to skip Gymboree since I wouldn't have enough time to take the metro all the way there. B told me to just call a taxi, so finally I got all our stuff together and we jumped in a taxi. I wasn't paying much attention to Ella since we had the most retarded taxi driver alive, who got in nearly two accidents within 50 meters of our house and then took the most ridiculous route imaginable to get there. We were almost there when we got stuck in a traffic jam near the peripherique. By this time, the meter was at 21 euro and we only had 10 minutes before our class started. I asked him to drop me off because I was going to take a tram instead. All of a sudden I noticed that Ella had a very odd look on her face- and before I could even wonder why, she started SPEWING vomit every where. Well, no. Not everywhere, mainly in my hands and then once I managed to get it out of my purse, into a diaper. The driver was having an absolute fit, I actually think he was nearly puking from the smell. We came straight home (and amazingly, with a puke-y kid in the car, he managed to do the return trip in a quarter of the time.) and I put Ella straight to bed.

Its only noon, and already I have spent 35 euro on taxis. I have another 20 euro of dry-cleaning to drop off. I cannot get the smell of puke off my hands, despite having washed them a good half-dozen times. And I have an entire afternoon of cranky baby games to look forward too since I can't take Ella to daycare now. TGIF does not apply to motherhood.

My kitchen design dilemma

I don't think it is a coincidence that today I received an email from a cuisine (kitchen) coach offering to help me sort out my project, for a mere 250 euro consultation. Its tempting.... Take a look at their website. The only thing that makes me really hesitate is that I am sort of at the end of the project and I am a bit afraid that they might suggest things that I can't implement because of decisions that we've already made. I also think, and this is partly from experience, that decorators tend to stick pretty closely to one particular style. This is fine if you love that style as well but no use at all if it is something that you find uninspiring. Since the site doesn't demonstrate very well the style of their designers, I hesitate to have someone come in. What if I spend 250 euro and she suggests speckled granite and copper pots, you know? I'll mention it to B tonight but I don't see him going for it.

Ups and downs

Just cracked open a bottle of our bubbly red wine- its a Demi-Sec Rouge from Cellier Leonardo de Vinci that I really like. B thinks its nice for summer picnics but a bit embarrassing the rest of the year (eg, he wouldn't let me open it the other night when we had people over. Sometimes he is such a French snob). So tonight, I figure I'll have to make quite a bit of headway into this bottle so that it doesn't just go flat sitting in the fridge for days on end. Or atleast, that will be my excuse. Otherwise, I could say that I am mourning the end of Season 3, Desperate Housewives, since we finished off the last episode of the DVD's I bought B for his recovery. Don't know what we will do with ourselves now that we have to resort to French TV for entertainment once again.

Of course, I deserve a bit of a treat, since last night I went to Bikram yoga, once again. I have been brilliant lately and gone on a very regular basis, resulting in some very good results. Obviously, results would be slightly more impressive if coupled with some sort of healthy eating plan, but I am not a saint. I don't need to weigh 50 kilos to find happiness. I am more than satisfied with a flat stomach.

Oh, and I also got my hair dyed yesterday. I don't know if its all the exercise or the phase of the moon or what, but my hair had grown about 2 cms since my last color 6 weeks ago. Thats insane. So I asked the girl to do something to help it grow out better. I was thinking of maybe going a bit darker, but adding a darker color on the underneath bits. She decided to go a more honey blonde and in the salon, I liked it. Today, I'm not so sure. It makes me look sort of .... blah. The color seems a bit too uniform. Or maybe its just that the color matches my skin to closely. It looks flat. And also slightly more reddish than I originally thought. I am going to give it another day and another washing to see what I think. Maybe I need to go back and ask her to do something else.

But balancing that out, I popped over to the Brazilian consulate yesterday morning and managed to complete my visa application with minimal hassle. I really didn't expect to get away with only 2 visits. Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. I had mainly been reading the visa info in English, since it was all specifically aimed at Americans so I thought that the visa cost 100 USD, pretty shocking in and of itself, right? Well, if you are in France applying for the visa, then it costs you 100 EUR, or roughly 40% more. Can you believe that scam? I think my chin hit the counter when the woman told me the price. Seriously, I don't care how fantastic Brazil is, it is not worth an extra 100 euro to me. Still, I was so happy to just be done with the application, I handed over my money without too much regret.

And I do have more important things to spend my money on. Tomorrow morning I am going to get in line at the Maria Luisa Braderie. Last year I got 2 gorgeous pair of shoes and I only managed to get there on the 3rd day. If I can go on the first morning, I have warned Bruno that I may need a small donkey to help get my bags home. Of course, he suggested that I might need to spend the evening convincing him that these will all my very worthwhile purchases, necessary for my survival... That man has no morals. Honestly, what a girl will do for a pair of Manolos...

PS if anyone knows when Christian Louboutin is doing his vente privee, let me know!! I have been harassing all the fashion insiders I know to have this info, but no luck so far.

kitchen wallpaper

kitchen wallpaper
Originally uploaded by aprilpschwab

I love this kitchen! I found the image via thekitchendesigner.org and it really got me thinking.
We finally heard back from the marble/granite wholesaler re: the stone we had picked out for the countertops. They sent us a photo of the sole slab that they had in stock and it was awful. It had a huge section at the top with no variation in color so it looked more or less like concrete, while bottom half was speckled with small "stones". It wasn't pretty at all so we said "No thanks". Now we can't figure out what we want to replace it with.

I didn't mind the dark brown that B had picked out, but I don't like the idea of dark floors-light cabinets-dark countertops- light walls. So whats the alternative? Maybe light colored countertops and dark walls? After seeing this kitchen on a decorating blog, I started thinking that maybe a really bold wallpaper would be just the thing to give our design some direction. I went on the Cole and Sons site and found this paper, that I LOVE:

The drop is 80 cm, so I think the pattern must be quite large. I need to see it in real-life and think that BHV carries this brand so I'll try popping over there tomorrow, I think. B probably won't be thrilled with this pattern, but I think that it could really work, since that red/orange color looks to be the same that I used in our office- Red Earth by Farrow and Ball. I like the idea of keeping our color scheme consistent throughout the entire flat. We could do the countertops dark brown, maybe even use this marble, since B fell in love with it when he saw a sample of it. The floors could stay dark chocolate brown as well. We stopped in at Raboni on blvd Henri IV last week and looked at some dark chocolate brown floor tiles with a very subtle leather grain pattern to them. The only thing that held us back from ordering them was the fact that they only existed in a 60 x 60 model. Then, we can use a chocolate brown pain in the niches. The only thing that bothers me a bit is that there is a gold accent in the paper (which I really like) which would maybe class with the stainless steel appliances. Hmm.

The other minor problem would be that we would have to change the wallpaper in our hall/entry. Right now it is a beige on white leaf pattern and it runs right up to the kitchen door. I like pattern, but even that would be a bit much for me.

I don't know about this. It would take a lot of bravery to commit to orange flowered wallpaper and gold veined marble in the kitchen. Even on paper, this idea scares me. Maybe I'll keep looking for a wallpaper just a teensy bit more subtle.

Let's do brunch

I know that this is a bit cheeky, but since I have gotten a bit behind on my blogging this week, I've decided to make several separate entries rather than one big one, to make myself feel a bit better.



Just as a side note- you can totally tell that Ella is half-French every time the yogurt comes out. That kid acts like I have handed her a bag of chocolate if I give her one of B's cheap Monoprix brand plain, low-fat yogurts with cane sugar. She is sitting next to me right now, scrape-scrape-scraping the bottom of her second container so that she doesn't miss out on even a drop of the yogurt-y goodness. Of course, her American side still shines through, as she is staring at the tele with a look at total adoration, watching an episode of Dora the Explorer.



Now, in an effort to win myself a few more minutes of computer time, I asked her to open up the packages of dishes that I bought at Habitat this afternoon. I ended up getting a few set of giant cups and saucers, in a soft taupe color and a half dozen mugs, in the same color. I saw other stuff that I liked in bright colors and typical Habitat patterns, but I took the boring option in the end. First of all, I knew that B HATES wild colored stuff. And secondly, I feel like, every time I go to Habitat, I see a million things that I think I need, choose something that I think will be incredibly cool, only to get home and realize that it is the worst of bad taste, cheaply made, and end up shoving it to the back of the cupboard where it will sit for 5 or 6 years til I feel like I can throw it out without too much guilt. Last item bought at Habitat: 6 plastic plates, I giant platter with crazy tropical flower/bird design in neon yellow, hot pink, and orange. Number of times used? once. Number of years sitting in my cupboard? 4 years. Sure, it probably only cost me 30 euro but still. I always go there before a party, thinking that I'll just pick up the one implement that I am missing and end up walking out with a bag full of crap. Hopefully this time I did OK, but only time will tell. I'll be packing up the entire kitchen in about 2 weeks, to have it ready for the renovation work starting the beginning of December - when I am away on vacay. I think that I will use this opportunity to just ruthlessly clear out my cupboards.



I am a very firm believer in "Organized desk, organized mind", except I stretch that to include every cupboard in my house. I think that its the best feeling in the world to walk out the front door with a giant bag of useless crap that has been cleared out of some closet. It feels like I am throwing my problems in the trash. God, there are probably lab rats that have a more complicated psyche than me, but there it is. I am a simple girl with simple needs.

Anyways, I needed to get a few more mugs since we have invited friends over for brunch on Sunday. Its been ages since we've done this and such a shame since I love having big lazy sunday afternoon meals. On the menu are Bacon-wrapped polenta egg cups; Goat cheese biscuits with chevre, smoked salmon and homemade red-pepper jelly; choco-banana cupcakes; fresh bread and croissants with jam and nutella; fresh orange juice and coffee. Yum.

If I hadn't already paid for my tickets

I am about ready to cancel my trip to Brazil.
I have to get a visa since I am American and its such a bloody pain in the ass you can't even believe it. First of all, they ask for ridiculously long list of paper work, including proof of revenue, and since I have no job, I don't know how I am supposed to do that. Secondly, they won't accept the dossier by mail so I have to go over IN THE MORNING because they only accept dossiers til 11:30. And they are closed for the next two days for holiday. Then you have to pay 100 USD for the visa which frankly, if I had known before hand, I would have just gone to Argentina instead. But you can't just give them the money you have to go the post office and do some bizarre postal mandate into their bank account, which will automatically add like 3 hours onto the whole process. Then, I finally get my shit together to go over today and dash out of the house with a very uncooperative toddler who, quite understandably, does not want to spend the morning in an grimey waiting room, playing thrilling games such as "What can we find (and destroy) at the bottom of Mommy's purse" (answer: including, but not limited to: pens, tampans, half sucked on candy, toy cars, post it notes, lip gloss), get into the taxi and almost to the door of the Consulate before realizing that B did NOT put my passport back in my wallet after photo-copying it yesterday. So I have to ask the taxi to return to my house, where I dash upstairs and find it, back into the taxi, back across Paris, where the driver drops me off in front of the door. Except its the WRONG consulate. Only I don't realize this in my mad rush since I have only arrived seconds before the cut-off time. I sit there for 10 minutes before going up and finding out that I am actually at the consulate for the Congo. Oh. I dash out the door and down the street- oops, that door is for the Brazilian embassy but not the door for people getting a visa. Must go a bit further still. Finally get in the right place and as Ella starts tugging on me and screaming something in my ear, an old woman makes some announcement- which I don't quite hear. Someone tells me that she is looking for people who need to drop off their visa dossiers. So I raise my hand. Then I wave it high. Then I say, 'Visas? Me! Me!Me!' She studiously avoids looking at me, waves another couple in her office, and when they walk out, before I can get out of my chair, she locks the door from the inside. I see her grab her coat and walk out the back door.
The Bitch.
So, basically, all that effort was for naught. I'll have to try again on Monday, although, as I have said, I really really don't give that much of a shit about seeing Brazil that I think it is worth jumping through all these &*µ%! hoops and I would quite happily spend my holiday in any other place on the *&%!, planet then Brazil at this point.
Deep breaths, Nicole. Deep breaths.

This afternoon, for the first time, Ella managed to use a pair of scissors. I'm so proud! She was busy doing it all by herself and I was busy at the computer next to her. Suddenly she turned to me and held up two shapes that she had laborously cut out- she told me quite emphatically that one was the moon and one was a doggie. They were very different shapes and clearly she had purposely cut them out quite deliberately. I know that it is not a big deal, really, and probably just on the mark for development, etc. but I think as a parent when you see your child master some skill and then start using her imagination to create something, it just knocks you over. For so long, a baby is just this lump of clay that you tote around and try to mold into something presentable ("Stop picking your nose, quit screaming bloody murder, don't lick the windows" etc) and, suddenly, you get smacked in the face by the reality that this is a separate person with their own ideas.

Its not that I disliked her when she was a baby, but my god, it is a million times more fun now.

So, it all worked out just fine in the end- thank goodness our friends are so accomodating and all arrived about an hour later than I asked them to. It gave me the time to run to the shop for a few last minute things AND have a quiet glass of champagne, while enjoying the clean house and the lovely smells coming out of the kitchen. And also the time to listen to my Ipod shuffle and decide that Scissor Sisters was more annoying than cutely kitsch. Cesaria Evora, an old fav, took over that slot.
As you can see by the morning after photo of the dining room table, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. The lamb was a bit dry though, which was disappointing since I paid something like 55 euro for it at the butchers. It wasn't their fault though. I took the lid off for too long since I wanted the juice to boil down a bit and make the beans a bit crusty on top. Learned my lesson on that one. The walnut puffs were OK but I think the recipe needs to be tweaked. I just threw the walnuts in the food grinder with lots of parmesan, some flat leaf parsley, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper. I think next time I would add a clove of garlic and bread crumbs so that it was a bit lighter. And maybe instead of chopping the walnuts until they started to turn into butter I would toast them first and just roughly chop them. I was surfing the net yesterday trying to find other suggestions for improving the walnut flavor when I read a recipe that used walnuts and anchovies. Maybe thats the trick. I'll give it a try next time. I just didn't think that the flavor was strong enough, especially for an hors d'oeuvres. Any suggestions are welcome...
The only thing that I think turned out perfectly gorgeous was the tart. I used a recipe that I found by googling fig tart and everyone loved it. I decided to double the filling, since just one batch barely covered the bottom of the crust but that might have been a mistake. It was so rich that you really could only eat a tiny piece. Other than that, the flavors were perfect- the buttery almonds, the hint of spice from the cinnamon and nutmeg, the sweet figs; this is a dessert that screams "fall". Definitely going to copy it into my recipe file since I love figs but I think its hard to find good recipes for them. Generally, I just throw them under the grill with some brown sugar and eat them with cream and biscuits.
We drank far too much at dinner- my excuse is that everyone brought such nice bottles of wine!- and rather than go out with my girlfriends afterwards, as I had planned, I made it an early(-ish) night. I would have gone out if I knew that I would be able to find a taxi home but since we live in Paris, that is a pretty big 'if'. I'm going to plead sore feet over drunken laziness on this one. After slaving in the kitchen all day, I had no desire to walk home a mile in high heels at 3 am. I was still feeling guilty for acting like such an old woman, but the next day, even with a good 8 hours of sleep under my belt, I hardly moved off the sofa. Thats what Sundays are for, I suppose. Still, we only managed to finish up the cleaning at around 9 pm the next day. And that is taking into account Daylight Savings.
Next weekend, we are doing brunch. The nice thing about having people over for brunch is that you really can make your guests bring most of the menu with them. Must remember to go out and buy coffee mugs, though. I had a bit of an incident with a sink full of dirty mugs and my extra large Le Creuset casserole...

Dinner party disasters, part 8437

I decided to invite some friends over for dinner tonight since we couldn't find a babysitter and promised myself that I would keep it low-key. I'm doing pretty well I think. I decided to make 7-hour lamb with white beans and a salade for dinner. I'll whip up some of my famous green olive tapenade for an entree/hors d'oeuvres along with some walnut puffs like the ones we ate last time we were in Italy (no recipe, so I'll just have to wing it. But I saw fresh walnuts at the vegetable stand and I just had such a craving that I couldn't not make them). I still have to make a fig tart for dessert, which will be a pain since there is already the lamb in the oven. Don't know quite how I will swing that. And I got the most gorgeous bouquet champetre at my fav neighborhood florist, Comme Ca, on rue St Antoine. Also, note to self, bring up lots of champagne from the cave and put it in the fridge ASAP.

No, all that is going fine. The disaster is that I lost my keys and ended up sitting downstairs in the entry hall for 45 minutes with an over-tired toddler waiting for the concierge to get home and give me my spare keys. Now I think I might have to go without that bath that I so desperately need.

Oh, and the house has gone from spotless at around 6 pm yesterday to disaster zone. I think that I am just going to shovel it all in the office and tell people that we are doing no apartment tours tonight.

But I did remember to get all my new music that I bought yesterday on to I-Tunes so that I can put it on my I-pod and have something fun to listen to tonight. I bought the Scissor Sisters that I have wanted for ages, Stars of Bossa Nova and Samba (to get me in the mood for holiday), and the Golden Years - Frank Sinatra. Add that to my Amy Winehouse and that, my friends, is what you call an eclectic Ipod shuffle.

Ok - I'm off. The faster I get the champagne chilling the faster I can get myself a glass.

There has got to be an easier way

Gymboree is kicking my ass. We have to get out of the house by 10:15 in the morning (which is no small feat in and of itself), then take the metro 21 stops to Balard, then dash through the building, play like freakin' maniacs for 45 minutes and then do the whole trip in reverse. Today, I went down into the metro in the wrong place at Bastille and had to carry Ella and her stroller up and down no less than 8 staircases. On the return trip, I went up the first exit that I saw out, only to find that the escalator was broken and I had to carry her up the entire thing. I was ready to die. So it took extraordinary patience on the walk home to put up with Ella examining every single *?!%$* in the sidewalk for ants. (PS there are no ants on rue Petit Musc, for anyone interested.) What is normally a 7 minute walk took us nearly 20 minutes. Where is my medal? Do I even get a gold star on my mommy report card? No. I get a fussy baby who cried all the way to school because she wanted her daddy to take her. I need a nap.

Kitchen renovation project

I don't know if anyone still reading remembers this, but the whole reason that we put our house on the market in the first place is because the Great Kitchen Renovation of 2006 was such a fucking nightmare that we abandoned the project, deciding that it would be easier to just move house. Ha ha ha. How I laugh at my naive younger self. (Of course, we have not gotten to the part in this renovation where they start knocking out walls... )

So, basically, this means that I have had a lot of time to think about what I wanted to do. Not that it seems to have helped any. I would generally say that I am incredibly decisive. I know immediately if I like something or not and if it will fit in with my plan. But this time around? I cannot figure out what I want to do. I think a bit of it is due to the fact that for once, I am not just decorating to please myself but with an eye on the eventual resale value. I know, I know. If I am staying here, I should just please myself. But my interiour decorating ego has taken a body blow by all the criticisms during the apartment visits. Sure, tons of people gave compliments but its always the negative feedback that stays lodged in your mind, a niggling doubt that just won't die. And since my partner in the renovation is not known for his rapid fire decision making... I'm just glad that we are almost done. The only thing left to decide is the stone for the countertops. Unless I change my mind, and technically, I have another day or two until these decisions become absolutely irrevocable. So be careful what you say in the comments section, my husband begs of you (he is reading over my shoulder right now).

Here is a diagram of the current situation in our kitchen:



When we first moved in, we decided not to make any structural changes to the kitchen because the kitchen was already tons bigger than the kitchen in our old apartment and I was really smitten with the original cabinets that were there. You obviously can't tell from the photos, but the cabinets are heavy solid wood, lined in zinc, and the paint is enamel.There is a pull out wooden cutting board and a marble slap hidden under one of the countertops for making pastry. We had to remove a wall of cabinetry to add modern stainless steel appliances (because these cabinets are so old, the dimensions are off just enough that we couldn't slot in new stuff) and chose some glass upper cabinets for extra storage. I honestly just love this kitchen and, for me, there is plenty of room for cooking and storage. The only thing that is wrong with it is that there is no room for a table. It might be stating the obvious, but toddlers are messy eaters, to put it mildly. After cleaning our dining room rug for the second time in a year, we've decided that it would be more cost-effective to completely re-do the kitchen to add an eating area than it would be to continue to let her eat at the dining room table.

This is a diagram (very rough) of what the new kitchen will be like. We are going to close off the door to the bedroom and move it to another spot. The wall to the hall will then be knocked out to give the kitchen an extra few meters squared. The door to the dining room will be taken off to just make a clean opening, although I still wanted to keep the kitchen a separate room. We will be adding a large eating island , with an induction cooktop and three long drawers underneath. On the opposite wall, where there used to be the sink, we are putting in two full length columns, one with a fridge and freezer and then other with a microwave and a regular oven. The sink is going to be moved in front of the window and will be underhung. The dishwasher will be moved to where the oven used to be and next to it, we are putting in a glassfront wine refridgerator. In the laundry area, we are taking out the big Ikea pantry that we used to have and are putting in a cabinet that will have a coffee maker built in. The broom cupboard will be taken out and made 20 cm deeper so that it can hold a narrow set of drawers on the bottom and then glass shelving will be put in the upper section, maybe with a flat screen TV set in, lit from above.

All the "technical" part is decided and I don't think we will change anything. The real issue is with the decorating. Which color? Which finish? What do we do with the walls? Do we add wood accents? Do we want a tile backsplash? I've been scouring the web for ideas - thank god for this site- but I haven't found anything that really inspired me. (Actually, thats a wee bit of a lie. I absolutely fell in lust over this kitchen, I love every single bit of it. BUT I decided that too late in the game and had to abandon the idea. Oh well. Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, right?) We ordered the cabinets in a standard sort of beige matte laquer although we still have the option of ordering the cabinets in a custom color for a small extra cost. We were thinking of having them done in a really rich expresso brown and putting in light stone countertops, something the color of travertine but not so easy to stain. But yesterday we were at the stone wholesaler and couldn't find anything pale that we liked. We had nearly decided on getting a plain pale ivory stone but having it cut extra thick, like 15 cm, since the price was quite low when the salesman told us that it would be really difficult to maintain as well. The disappointment quickly disappeared when I found a slab of the granite that I had searched for last year after seeing it in a Met Home article. How gorgeous is this? The only problem is that they don't have it in stock, it can only be ordered, and we can only get if they happen to have it in stock at the headquarters in Italy. We picked out a back-up granite in dark brown (actually its the one B prefers. So basically, either I win or he wins, but the compromising thing didn't work out so much on this home improvement project.)

So the kitchen is scheduled to be delivered at the end of December. Which means that B will have to stay here for the Christmas hols. That is another post though.

So today was