Seriously

So today I tried, yet again, to apply for my carte de sejour. I got the sardine treatment getting onto the 13, and took that line for seven or eight stops. I transferred to the 10 and walked three or four blocks to the Prefecture only to find a big note on the door: "Not taking any first time CDS applicants today." No reason, just not doin' it. Well, alrighty then. So, I decided to go shopping on the Champs Elysees instead.

It's sales season here--the stores are allowed to have "soldes" twice a year, and right now they're on. Of course, soldes on the Champs Elysees aren't like other places. I found a gorgeous purse for about $200 (on sale) that I passed up. It was beautiful, but I knew I'd regret it, so I opted instead for a gorgeous loaf of bread and some lotion for my dry, dry skin--and at a fraction of the cost!

You know what else costs ridiculously more on the Champs? The toilettes. I'm used to pay toilets, but I walked up to the counter and was asked for 1 euro, 50 eurocent. Seriously? That's, what, $2'ish US! To pee! No thank you. I HAVE seen the time that I would have paid $2 for a toilette, but not today. I was only four or five metro stops from home, and while I would have paid 30 eurocent, I was not about to pay 1.5E. Crazy talk.

Anyway, crazy Champs Elysees toilette's aside, it is beautiful. The restaurants are, for the most part, overpriced. But there is a Laduree there. And oh how I love a caramel du sel macaron. I skipped it today because the line was also ridiculous, but I'm sure I'll treat myself again soon. I'm not afraid to treat myself, as you well know.

Oh, and success on the cat tower front. Potter actually climbed to the second and third levels on his own today and spent some time enjoying the view. Gracie likes to sleep in the first level, but one of these days I just know she's going to climb higher.

Tomorrow is Saturday, and although this sounds ridiculous, I'm glad of it. I've spent every day doing stuff for the carte de sejour, and since they're closed until Monday, I feel like I have the weekend off. Don't know what I'll do, but I'm in Paris...there are lots of options!

Wasted days and wasted nights

Growing up we listened to country music whenever we were in the car. One of the songs I remember was called Wasted Days and Wasted Nights, and as I think about today, this line runs through my head.

As I mentioned yesterday, I'm supposed to apply for my carte de sejour (residency card) within 10 days of my arrival. As of this morning, I have three days left. Now I'm down to two since today was relatively fruitless. I woke up and went to the Prefecture to which I was told to go. Waited in a little line in relatively comfortable weather (cold but not freezing like it has been). Got in and spoke with a very nice woman who asked a couple of questions then told me to go to a different prefecture--the one for my arrondissement (neighborhood). So...back on the metro and to THAT prefecture where I waited for at least two and a half hours in a line that NEVER moved. These waits are well known, and even though I kept thinking, "how on earth are they going to move at this pace and wait on everyone before 4:30?" I kept waiting...because everyone else was waiting--even patiently waiting. My rule, you see, is this: when in doubt, watch the locals. However, since all of these people were probably there for the same reason I was, they're not actual locals--they're foreigners like me.

Nonetheless, I waited. And waited. For no less than two and a half hours. Then all of a sudden a woman came out & said something in French which elicited sighs and groans from the crowd. I turned to someone that I thought might speak English, and he explained that she had informed everyone that the computer was down & that no one would be helped today. But, he said, "I don't believe them." He had asked her "since when" as in "how long have you known this and let us stand out here?" and she said about thirty minutes. Which he also did not believe. He told me that they do everything they can to discourage people from waiting in line, and he said that he was going to wait. He was a lawyer waiting on behalf of a client who was wandering around taking pictures. We waited for another five minutes, and all of a sudden, they let a bunch of us in. Finally! In the rush to get in, three women jumped in line in front of us, and I wanted to slap them. They had JUST gotten there, and we had been waiting for so long! Not that it mattered. When we got in they said even more firmly that they wouldn't be helping anyone today. At that point my lawyer friend decided to leave, and I figured if he was leaving, I might as well leave.

I did get one bit of helpful information during those otherwise wasted hours. I asked the lawyer about a translator, and he directed me to the American Embassy for a list of approved translators. Why'd a French lawyer have to suggest the American Embassy to me? Never occured to me, I'm ashamed to say. Anyway, I left the madness & treated myself to a pain au chocolat and cafe creme. (I think we can all agree that I deserved it.) Plus, I needed to get inside somewhere to thaw out as it had become considerably colder, and hours of standing in the cold had numbed my toes and fingers.

After the thawing, I managed to get a French cell phone (which I barely know how to use), so the day wasn't totally wasted. And if I sleep well tonight, the night won't be either. As for tomorrow, well, wish me luck.

Pizza Pizza!

It goes without saying that one of the great pleasures of Paris is the food, and while there is fabulous food all over Paris, finding good food in your own neighborhood is tres important! The President's favorite boulangerie is in my neighborhood, and his favorite baguette IS delicious. And right across the street from said boulangerie is a little Italian restaurant that won my heart today.

The Pizza Isabella is a treat made of thinly sliced ham, cheese, and herbs, and I ate half of one for lunch (and the other half for dinner, bien sur)! Unlike American pizza joints, there are no little shakers of months old herbs, peppers, and what passes for parmesan cheese. Instead there is a bottle of olive oil infused with tasty herbs. You pour the olive oil on the pizza, and oh my, is it tasty!

After lunch I went to the boulangerie and picked up a baguette and three mini-macarons (caramel du sel--my favorite flavor). While the baguette is very tasty with a great texture, the macarons are not up to the expectations set for me by Laduree. I ate them, of course, and enjoyed them, but they aren't the melt in your mouth, savor every crumb tasty of Laduree. S'ok. I know how to get to several Laduree's, and while the baguette is a staple, macarons are (uh, well, they should be) a treat.

I'm attaching pix of the tasty pizza and the bottle of olive oil--just to make you jealous.

Oh, and on the practical front, I visited my bank today, picked up my carte bleue (ATM/debit card), and updated my address. Making progress!

Tomorrow I have GOT to apply for my CDS (residency card). From what I hear, that's a nightmare. I'll let you know.

A bientot!

It all started...

It all started with a simple comment: "I wish I could find someone to meet me in Paris for a vacation." With that comment Susan put things into motion that had never even occurred to me as possibilities. Naturally I responded with, "I'll meet you in Paris!" Why not? Susan would be in Paris for a week of work, and she wanted some vacation time in the City of Light afterward. I had never been to Paris and had always wanted to go. First on the to do list: renew passport. With a little extra investment, that was quickly done.

We met two days after her meetings ended, and we started--where else--at the Eiffel Tower. It was October and chilly, and the fog made it pointless to go past the second level. But the view was still beautiful. It was Paris, after all.

Site seeing, cheese eating, and wine drinking for a couple of days and then--oh la la...look at him! He was tres beau, and after a few hours of flirting, Susan took one look at me and told the future. "You're moving here!" She said it almost breathlessly--like all of a sudden she knew it. The mental leap from vacation to total life change didn't take long. I thought about what she said for a moment and replied, "Hmmm...I might."

One year and three months later, I sit in my apartment in Paris and start my blog. Not to be with him, by the way. No, just to live in Paris! After all, I can. No husband, no kids, and everything else...well...

House? Sold.
Car? Sold.
Job? Quit.
Cats? Certified for entry and here in the apartment with me. Against their better judgment.

I've got enough money to stay for a year to a year and a half, and I'm planning to do some contract work that, with any luck, will allow me to stay longer. Who knows how long I'll want to stay. We'll see...

Right now, I'm well fed (more on that later) and happy. Dad, bless his heart, helped me (and the cats) make the move, and after 4 fabulous days, he's back home. I miss him, although as great as the trip was, I know he was glad to get home, & I know how glad Mom is to have him home. We ate such great food including a fabulous dinner that we made (well, we purchased a rotisserie chicken, but we made the rest), some melt-in-your-mouth caramel du sel Laduree macarons, sinfully rich ham & cheese crepes at a surprisingly delicious creperie in my neighborhood, and a dinner or two out at random restaurants that turned out to be wonderfully delicious surprises!

We did the Louvre, Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur, the Tuilleries, Jardin du Luxembourg, Angelina, and other sites around Paris, and we were so cold that it was always nice to come home to my toasty apartment. We packed a lot into four days, and there's still so much we didn't do. I can't wait for both of them to visit me. I hope they're coming in May. The weather will be better, and maybe the metro will be less packed! Oh the things we'll see, the things we'll do, the things we'll eat! I have plans, boy do I have plans.