Jinkies, gang. I can't believe the month is over already. No, you don't understand - I seriously can't believe a month has passed since my first incoherent, jet-lag infused post. What a ride. What an adventure.
I came. I saw. I was not disappointed. At all.
I think I averaged, roughly, three miles of walking each day (actually probably much more than that; next time I'm bringing a pedometer), in my favorite silver ballerina flats (memba those?). I'm guessing, all said, I got a good 80 to 90 miles out of them (and my feet). I love those shoes - they served me well. They are no longer pristine and pointy - or really even silver - for the cobbled streets of Paris are merciless.
As far as wine consumption - I easily drank more wine here during my short stay than I've had my entire life (no lie). I drank alone. I drank with family. I drank with friends and strangers alike. I'm indiscriminate when it comes to my drinking company, however I fear my palate has finally developed a love of something other than breakfast cereal, Hot Tamales, and those licorice tuxedo things from Harry & David.
My taste buds have been, in equal parts, tantalized and tortured. I love a good, dry red (French) wine but I've found that if it's too dry (and perhaps if one drinks too much of said wine), the tongue is completely wrung out and in pain for a couple of days. I've never been good about - what is this word you say in English - ahh: Moderation. I don't have an actual bottle count of the delicious elixir I consumed, but if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say it was in the 20s. Probably the high 20s.
I made the conscious decision to not have (too much) bread or cheese or (any) chocolate before my husband got here. I wanted to enjoy these things with him when he got here. I also knew that when he did get here, the whole food thing would become a primary endeavor (if you don't believe me, click here). I love my husband, but he makes me fat; it's his super-hero power. Needless to say, the last ten days (in addition to the copius amounts of wine), we've consumed about 37 baguettes, 14 pounds of cheese, 3.2 tons of chocolate, and about 16 ounces of water. I have lots of priorities when I get home (coloring my hair and finding a job - yes, in that order), but getting to the gym is right up there.
Cliche or not, the Eiffel Tower is my favorite monument of Paris. My goal was to see it - in its entirety - all lit up and sparkly. I'm happy to say that this goal was met and, again, I was not disappointed. Gary and I went to the top at about 8:00 PM one night and watched the sun set on Paris. The pink light from an impossibly cherry-colored sun bathed all of the western-facing parts of the city in a magnificent glow. Amazing and beautiful. Then we took the lift down and hung out on the second platform and waited for the primary lights to go on - the ones that come on at sunset and stay on until about 1:00 in the morning. They don't come on at full power all at once; it takes awhile for all those bulbs to warm up. So what starts out as a soft, amber glow ultimately builds up to a fiery orange that rivals a sun beam.
After a quick suntan, we descended back to street-level to one of the gardens that extends out in front of the metal beast and waited impatiently for the clock to strike 10:00. This was the moment, folks: The champagne and diamonds show. Ooohs and ahhhs were elicited from the mouths of dazzled onlookers all over the place. I'd have to say that that was one of my favorite moments... That, and my orgasmic trip to Christian Louboutin.
I got a small bit of writing done - though none of it on my book. Being in Paris is kind of what I imagine having ADD is like. There are just far too many distractions to concentrate on any one thing. Especially if that thing requires you to keep your head down, eyes locked on a page, and focused solely on your thoughts. Gary and I will work on a project together when we get home about the whole Paris-thing so, if nothing else, at least I felt inspired to write.
My experience in Paris wouldn't have been what it was had I not met the people I did. I am indebted to each of them for showing me parts of Paris I would have otherwise not seen. I feel I have a much better understanding of the culture, politics, history and - of course - the people through my dicussions and time spent with these amazing friends. Thank you Nicolas, Stephane, Charlotte, Stefane, Jacques, and Aurelie for the times we spent together; you enriched this experience and my life immeasurably!
I am especially grateful for an opportunity that my friend, Jacques, afforded me (you might remember him; he's the film director). He is in the process of beginning a new film (script done, characters cast), and is heading to Cannes this weekend to start promoting it for next year's festival. A couple of weeks ago, he asked if I would write the english version of the film's synopsis for his presentations in Cannes.
Last week, we met at "The Flore" to go over some edits and feedback he'd gotten from one of his Hollywood contacts. Yeah, so I'm sitting in this historically relevant place - where some of the greatest minds of the last century have gathered to discuss literature, politics, and philosophy - working on a film project with my director friend. The realization of that in this particular moment, my friends, was about the coolest thing ever. I've spent a lot of time at Flore while in Paris (moreso than any other place besides my apartment, actually). It's a great meeting place - a great place to people-watch - and the food is pretty decent. But actually working there was magical; a total blasty-blast, if you will.
Somehow, throughout the process of working on this project, I've kind of gotten sucked into the whole production process and we're (yes, I said we're) going to try to figure out a way to get his film produced from and possibly filmed in the States. I'm leaving Paris with the scripts of two films, a whole new passion, and a whole lotta things to figure out.
I am going to miss a lot of things (my friends, the happy sounds from the two cafe/bistros that flank my apartment on rue Jacques Callot, the beautiful shops, the wine, the energy of the atmosphere, the people watching, the innate comfort that I feel here...), but I think I'm ready to go home and begin to let it all soak in.
We have so many comforts afforded to us in America that can easily be taken for granted. Paris is a highly-condensed city - both in- and out-of-doors. Space is something that is a luxury here - living space, breathing space, personal space, space on the sidewalk, space in cafes, space in the bathroom, space, space, space... I think I will make a trip up to the mountains when I get home and get reacquainted with the magnificent place I get to call home.
Thanks for your company the past month; your notes and long-distance participation definitely added a much needed element of home. I'll post pictures of my experience once I get home (thankfully Gary is an ace photographer!).
Now, you'll have to excuse me while I go enjoy my final hours in this magical place which has claimed more than just a little bit of my heart...
Bisous et a bientot,
I came. I saw. I was not disappointed. At all.
I think I averaged, roughly, three miles of walking each day (actually probably much more than that; next time I'm bringing a pedometer), in my favorite silver ballerina flats (memba those?). I'm guessing, all said, I got a good 80 to 90 miles out of them (and my feet). I love those shoes - they served me well. They are no longer pristine and pointy - or really even silver - for the cobbled streets of Paris are merciless.
As far as wine consumption - I easily drank more wine here during my short stay than I've had my entire life (no lie). I drank alone. I drank with family. I drank with friends and strangers alike. I'm indiscriminate when it comes to my drinking company, however I fear my palate has finally developed a love of something other than breakfast cereal, Hot Tamales, and those licorice tuxedo things from Harry & David.
My taste buds have been, in equal parts, tantalized and tortured. I love a good, dry red (French) wine but I've found that if it's too dry (and perhaps if one drinks too much of said wine), the tongue is completely wrung out and in pain for a couple of days. I've never been good about - what is this word you say in English - ahh: Moderation. I don't have an actual bottle count of the delicious elixir I consumed, but if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say it was in the 20s. Probably the high 20s.
I made the conscious decision to not have (too much) bread or cheese or (any) chocolate before my husband got here. I wanted to enjoy these things with him when he got here. I also knew that when he did get here, the whole food thing would become a primary endeavor (if you don't believe me, click here). I love my husband, but he makes me fat; it's his super-hero power. Needless to say, the last ten days (in addition to the copius amounts of wine), we've consumed about 37 baguettes, 14 pounds of cheese, 3.2 tons of chocolate, and about 16 ounces of water. I have lots of priorities when I get home (coloring my hair and finding a job - yes, in that order), but getting to the gym is right up there.
Cliche or not, the Eiffel Tower is my favorite monument of Paris. My goal was to see it - in its entirety - all lit up and sparkly. I'm happy to say that this goal was met and, again, I was not disappointed. Gary and I went to the top at about 8:00 PM one night and watched the sun set on Paris. The pink light from an impossibly cherry-colored sun bathed all of the western-facing parts of the city in a magnificent glow. Amazing and beautiful. Then we took the lift down and hung out on the second platform and waited for the primary lights to go on - the ones that come on at sunset and stay on until about 1:00 in the morning. They don't come on at full power all at once; it takes awhile for all those bulbs to warm up. So what starts out as a soft, amber glow ultimately builds up to a fiery orange that rivals a sun beam.
After a quick suntan, we descended back to street-level to one of the gardens that extends out in front of the metal beast and waited impatiently for the clock to strike 10:00. This was the moment, folks: The champagne and diamonds show. Ooohs and ahhhs were elicited from the mouths of dazzled onlookers all over the place. I'd have to say that that was one of my favorite moments... That, and my orgasmic trip to Christian Louboutin.
I got a small bit of writing done - though none of it on my book. Being in Paris is kind of what I imagine having ADD is like. There are just far too many distractions to concentrate on any one thing. Especially if that thing requires you to keep your head down, eyes locked on a page, and focused solely on your thoughts. Gary and I will work on a project together when we get home about the whole Paris-thing so, if nothing else, at least I felt inspired to write.
My experience in Paris wouldn't have been what it was had I not met the people I did. I am indebted to each of them for showing me parts of Paris I would have otherwise not seen. I feel I have a much better understanding of the culture, politics, history and - of course - the people through my dicussions and time spent with these amazing friends. Thank you Nicolas, Stephane, Charlotte, Stefane, Jacques, and Aurelie for the times we spent together; you enriched this experience and my life immeasurably!
I am especially grateful for an opportunity that my friend, Jacques, afforded me (you might remember him; he's the film director). He is in the process of beginning a new film (script done, characters cast), and is heading to Cannes this weekend to start promoting it for next year's festival. A couple of weeks ago, he asked if I would write the english version of the film's synopsis for his presentations in Cannes.
Last week, we met at "The Flore" to go over some edits and feedback he'd gotten from one of his Hollywood contacts. Yeah, so I'm sitting in this historically relevant place - where some of the greatest minds of the last century have gathered to discuss literature, politics, and philosophy - working on a film project with my director friend. The realization of that in this particular moment, my friends, was about the coolest thing ever. I've spent a lot of time at Flore while in Paris (moreso than any other place besides my apartment, actually). It's a great meeting place - a great place to people-watch - and the food is pretty decent. But actually working there was magical; a total blasty-blast, if you will.
Somehow, throughout the process of working on this project, I've kind of gotten sucked into the whole production process and we're (yes, I said we're) going to try to figure out a way to get his film produced from and possibly filmed in the States. I'm leaving Paris with the scripts of two films, a whole new passion, and a whole lotta things to figure out.
I am going to miss a lot of things (my friends, the happy sounds from the two cafe/bistros that flank my apartment on rue Jacques Callot, the beautiful shops, the wine, the energy of the atmosphere, the people watching, the innate comfort that I feel here...), but I think I'm ready to go home and begin to let it all soak in.
We have so many comforts afforded to us in America that can easily be taken for granted. Paris is a highly-condensed city - both in- and out-of-doors. Space is something that is a luxury here - living space, breathing space, personal space, space on the sidewalk, space in cafes, space in the bathroom, space, space, space... I think I will make a trip up to the mountains when I get home and get reacquainted with the magnificent place I get to call home.
Thanks for your company the past month; your notes and long-distance participation definitely added a much needed element of home. I'll post pictures of my experience once I get home (thankfully Gary is an ace photographer!).
Now, you'll have to excuse me while I go enjoy my final hours in this magical place which has claimed more than just a little bit of my heart...
Bisous et a bientot,
Shannon
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