Maybe “the world” is a bit of an exaggeration, but between the two of us tomorrow, Allen and I will set foot in France, Germany, Ireland, and the United States. Not bad for a day’s work. So yes, we’re flying separately because we bought our tickets different times. I’m taking Lufthansa through Frankfurt, and I remember a little too well how that turned out the last time. Meanwhile, Allen is flying through Dublin on Aer Lingus, which he hadn’t heard of before this trip and which he therefore says as if he were mouthing the name of a tricky disease. Both of us arrive at Dulles in the early afternoon, and Allen’s parents will be picking us up and bringing us to our house in DC.

Our (mostly) packed bags are gigantic. It’s ridiculous. Though they’re the same bags we came over with, we’re looking at them and wondering why they are so big. And - the horror! - why are they so full? I dread the overweight fines that may be in our future.

We’re doing very little today aside from packing, emptying the fridge, and cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. Our landlord invited us to dinner, and while we appreciate it, we probably shouldn’t have accepted. We probably won’t get out much today.

On the other hand, we spent the entire day out yesterday. We rose early to “finish packing.” It seems like we finish packing every day, and then we have to do it again the next. Once we were both showered (with the other packing during non-shower time), we took a pile of clothing and shoe donations to Secours Catholique in the 7th, which allowed us to go to the Grande Epicerie of Bon Marche one last time. We walked back towards Saint Germain, stopping at a couple of tablecloth stores, one jacquard and one provencal.

We met Mimi and Jack and the kids at the park at Rue des Ecoles and Rue de Monge, and all of us ate delicious sandwiches from Kaiser, spread out on the grass. We were joined by Samantha, formerly of Sam de Bretagne fame, and Kerry and family. Spending a couple of hours at a playground is a great way to say goodbye. I didn’t cry (I was a little surprised), but I think it may be because we’ll see Mimi and Jack and Michael and Katharine in August.

It seems so much harder to say goodbye to kids, particularly the tiny ones, because they won’t remember you the way you will them, and you may not ever gain back the level of closeness you had with them if you don’t live nearby again. I will miss the way that Katharine says “shoul” when she wants to get on your shoulders and the way Michael shows you all his artwork from his four years of life every time you walk in the door. I suppose I could say I’ve been fortunate enough to know many kids well enough to miss them like that.

Enough quasi-depressing reminicenses. On with the day! After the picnic, goodbyes and repeated hugs, we went back to the tablecloth store to buy a jacquard tablecloth and napkins. And then we were poor. Ha! Coming back, we ran into the Gay Pride Parade. They were not messing around when it came to noise level and number of people. I don’t think Katharine and Michael had a nap after all. We skirted the parade route but benefited from the music and energy all the same.

The next outing was to Shakespeare & Company books, where we sold a bunch of hardcovers (for about 50 centimes each). We walked out with 7 euros, which we immediately spent at FNAC for new headphones for my ipod. Allen and I had decided we either needed books for the ride over or an audiobook (and therefore, headphones for me, as mine have been out of commission for months). We came back home and purchased the audiobook of The Omnivore’s Dilemma for our ipods. I can’t wait to listen to it on the plane!

Phew! But the day wasn’t over for us yet. We had reservations at l’A.O.C. for one last nice dinner in Paris. We sat outside, the weather finally cool. I sipped my last Cerdon aperitif there and learned that it was in fact a sparkling rose wine (rather than a mixed drink, as I thought). Perhaps I’ll be able to track it down. I decided from the outset to skip dessert in favor of a delicious salmon and ginger tartare. (Not a bad decision. The salmon tartare was outstanding. Plus, how fun is it to say tartare au saumon et gingembre?) Both Allen and I chose one of the night’s specials for our plat: lambshanks with potato “palettes.” Also an excellent choice, but then, we were at A.O.C. Allen chose a moelleux au chocolat for dessert, his favorite. When I said I wasn’t having dessert to the waiter he said, “Perhaps you’d like a little spoon?” I smiled back and him and said it might be useful. And was it! Allen’s dessert was delicious. We returned home afterwards happily full of delicious French food.

What more is there to say? A lot of people have been asking me how I feel about leaving Paris and coming back to the States. I feel just the same as I did when we came here last year. I’m happy to go but sad to leave.

As of Wednesday night, we are basically packed. There are a few slips of paper and other flotsam in disorganization (naturally, all mine). There are some toiletries, mostly perfume and cologne, which still need to be properly packed. And aside from that, only the food and cleaning need to be taken care of before we leave.

It’s very unlike me to be packed almost a week in advance. But there’s a logical reason. If we hadn’t already packed, we couldn’t know how much space we had left to fill with souvenirs from France! As it is, there isn’t much room. But Allen and I plan to purchase another French tablecloth and maybe some clothes. En plus, the twice-a-year sales just started this week! We’re in luck. However, we had also hoped to bring back some art, but our full luggage won’t allow it. Any bets on whether we’ll be charged for oversized luggage?

This week has been full of emotional confusion. Monday was a rare day off for me, and i worked on some of my graduate school research. I’m currently taking my last masters course; the first part is online (started in March) and the classroom portion will keep me wholy occupied from July 16 to July 25. (Who wants to celebrate on July 26? Alternately, that might be a good day for a nap.) So Monday I tackled some of the transcription I need to do as part of the data collection for my action research project. In the evening Allen and I continued our packing efforts for a while. Then we ran off to Fuxia, our Italian place, for what was probably our last dinner there. I had a glass of prosecco and the Scallopine Limone. Allen had his usual, the Lasagne Carne. We both finished with panna cottas, getting our own so that he could have a red fruits sauce, and I could have caramel.

Tuesday was the hottest day I’ve experienced in a long time. I don’t know what the temperature was, but I sweated from about noon to midnight. I got my haircut in the morning, and on the way I realized with horror that I’d left all the cash at home (and the salon doesn’t take credit cards). I decided to continue and just explain my problem, fearful of losing my appointment if I showed up too late. Vicky was very understanding and cut my hair anyway. (And it looks great. She has given me the two best dry-on-its-own haircuts of my life.) Then I took the metro straight home to pick up cash and straight back to pay the hairdresser. By the point, I was running late to babysitting. I babysat, tutored, the usual, and then metroed home to try to avoid the heat. I met up with Allen, changed into a dry shirt, and we walked to Mimi and Jack’s apartment. They’d hired a babysitter so that the four of us could go out to dinner together. We walked around for a while before we decided to eat at Le Bar a Huitres. The air was thick with fruit flies; I’ve never seen anything like it. The little flies looked like pollen or dust, but kept landing on us. Fortunately, though the windows at Le Bar a Huitres were open, very few flies actually joined us inside. Still, I fished a few out of my wine, and I think I ate a handful. Aside from the unintentional protein, the food was delicious! Jack and I both opted for the Menu Homard, choosing 9 oysters and a lobster each. Mimi and Allen both chose a grilled shrimp entree, followed by a tuna steak for Mimi and a crab for Allen. Dessert was ice cream all around - lemon sorbet with limoncello for Allen and I and chocolate and cafe liegeoise for Mimi and Jack respectively. The staff were all talkative and friendly, and I believe it was the owner who paid a visit to our table and ended up showing us how to get the meat out of a crab. The food was very enjoyable, and the company was better. Afterwards, we went to El Sur, an Argentinian restaurant across Blvd Saint Germain from Mimi and Jack’s apartment, and had a round of drinks. The owner (who knows Mimi and Jack) plugged the pisco sour, and for good reason. It’s probably a good thing that I won’t be here to drink many more of those. Afterwards, we made plans to see them again on Saturday, so we wouldn’t have to say goodbye quite yet.

Wednesday’s highlight was babysitting Rafaela because we went to the park to meet Kerry and her kids so that Rafaela and Liese could play together. Mimi came with the kids too, so we had a big jolly gathering. Katharine was walking all over the playground clutching a bag of lollipops, so all the bigger kids surrounded her to ask nicely for one, and she was blithely handing them out to anyone who lined up. She put three or four in my purse when I said no thank you. When I went home afterwards, Allen and I threw ourselves into a frenzy of packing and cleaning. Hooray!

Yesterday was a nice day as well. The weather had become more temporate, and I met Leigh for coffee and to return some books she let me borrow. We’d met a couple of times before, but I wish we’d made more time to get together. We talked so much I ended up running late to babysitting again. I’m not proud of it. But babysitting went well - we spent the whole time drawing, and there were popsicles involved. Then I did my final lesson with Adrienne. I took it easy on her and we sang all the songs we’d learned, and I gave her a bit of an oral quiz. In the meantime, I gave her a French braid so she’d be ready for the concert at her school that night. I got to drop her off a bit early and said a warm goodbye to her and her parents. Then last night, Allen and I cooked dinner and then spent a few hours babysitting Kerry’s kids so she and her husband could have a night out in Paris.

And that brings us to today! Allen and I both have our last days of work today. I’ll have my last yoga class tonight (somehow I doubt I’m going tomorrow), and then the weekend will be filled with a picnic, shopping, cleaning, and saying goodbye to Paris.

“Yoy-yun?” Noah called me to the couch. His outstretched finger had something pale stuck to it. He made a gesture that I knew meant he wanted me to get it off him.

“What is that, Noah?”

“A big one.” Well, I could see that. I was pretty sure it was a booger. I tried another tack.

“Where did it come from?”

“From this nose.” He pointed to one nostril. I got a wipe and made the big one disappear.

This is my life. It’s kind of funny and sad at the same time.

Five years and some months ago, I applied for a job with an educational research firm in the District of Columbia, hoping to put my linguistics minor to use. One of the questions from my interview was: Where do you see yourself in five years?

This might be a question I need to revisit, just for fun. Or for direction. But right now I’d just like to say that I never thought that the answer to that question would be: In Paris, with three of my coworkers from that job. Regina, Cate, and Sarah arrived on Monday, and that very night we went out to the Italian place (where else?). I remember a lot of chatter, topped off with tiramisu and panna cotta.

Tuesday (April 15) started well too, with some City Walking around the Marais. I left Regina and Cate to it while I went to tutoring (and Sarah was meeting with a French girl who took her to the Grande Epicerie at the Bon Marche). Then we all met at the funicular at Sacre Coeur at 8 pm. Allen and I walked up to their small group, passing tourist after tourist trapped by Africans with friendship bracelets. Yet our friends remained unmolested. Sarah explained: one of the Africans had come up to her, and she told him, “I already did it.” That is the most awesome thing I’d ever heard. (It reminds me of Monty Python’s search for the Holy Grail: “We’ve already got one!”) The guy challenged her, asking what it was. She responded nonchalantly, “You make a bracelet.” Snap!

We wandered down towards the Moulin Rouge, glad we were passing the seedier side of town while it was still light. (Hallelujah for it still being light at eight pm!) Then we went to dinner at Chez Toinette, where I had a lovely rack of lamb and our equally lovely guests treated us to our meal. (Sarah, Regina, Cate, you are as lovely as a rack of lamb.)

And that is just about when my week came to a screeching halt. I felt a little tickle in my throat and figured it was the wine. Then I tossed and turned all night with a fever. The next morning I rose early and went to babysit Noah. I told the parents how sorry I was that I had a fever and that I could leave if they wanted, but that I’d only developed it overnight and couldn’t let them know in advance. That was okay; Noah had a fever too. (Note: I do not believe it is a coincidence that Noah and I both got a fever the same night. I’d babysat him the Thursday and Friday previous.) Noah and I spent the morning on the couch starting blandly at Blue’s Clues. He was burning, and I was freezing. Then we both took a nap. My throat was killing me, but I had no white spots to betray strep. Finally, I went home, cancelled my babysitting/tutoring with Rafaela for later that day, and passed out with my fever.

That night, Regina and Cate came over and watched some TV with us. I stayed on the bed in a heap. (Sarah had gone to Luxembourg and Germany for the weekend.) The fever persisted, and I had another sleepless night. In the morning, the white spots had developed. The strep had announced itself.

Lest you think I actually have been corralled and deported - thus the reason for the radio silence on my blog - I am posting to dispel the rumors. I’m alive and well (except for the cold sores from our freakish weather) and in Paris. So why haven’t I been posting? Well, coming back from vacation completely overwhelmed me. I know. That’s silly. It’s even sillier when you’re mostly unemployed, let me tell you. But I felt like I needed to ramp up my to-do list and rediscover some sense of productivity. (I feel like this is a sign that I am truly an American - why can’t I stop working, even when I don’t have a job?) And part of that was that I needed to blog about my whole vacation in order. It’s been a little crippling. I know it’s ridiculous to talk about the pressures of blogging, but there it is.

My brother and his entourage are still here until Monday morning, but after that I plan to get back to work on my blog and the rest of my life. (I tend to sniff out the distraction. What? You’re going shopping? Oh, no, I’m not busy.) Unfortunately, I’ll have another major timesuck on my to-do list as well. One of my babysitting families just learned they’re moving to the States in three weeks. Bye, bye babysitting. So I’ll need to find something to replace that.

On Friday, Elizabeth and I got up “early” (that is, before 11 am) to go out to lunch and do some shopping. We arrived at La Nature a Paris at noon exactly, right when they opened. Elizabeth had wanted to try it after reading about Allen and my dinner there. She ordered the Grande Chevre (salade de chevre chaud as a plat). It was indeed grand, as it came with four slices of toast with entire mini wheels of goat cheese on each. I ordered an entree for my meal, having just the caviar d’algues. Both of our dishes came with a heaping amount of salad. Because I’d saved some cash by just getting an entree, I opted to try one of the fresh juices as well. I picked the “refreshing” banana apple lemon juice. (I considered the apple guava passion juice, but didn’t think a “general stimulant” would be a good idea for a walk and babysitting just in case it wasn’t just the energetically stimulating type.) It was very good, and between the juice and the salad, I think I got three servings of fruits and vegetables in that one meal. So of course I followed it up with the scrumptious chocolate mousse, and Elizabeth had a huge piece of tarte tatin.

While we were sitting in the restaurant, a horse went by, and then another and another until about 30 or 40 garde nationale horses and their riders had passed. Stupidly, we didn’t take any pictures. But it was quite a sight. And right behind them was a city bus.

After lunch, we walked over to Lush, so that Elizabeth could stock up on Karma perfume, and then we headed to Gudule (also on Rue de Buci) which sells silver jewelry by the pound. I never buy or wear enough jewelry. I found a pair of turquoise earrings and a hammered silver pair. I spent under 30 euros on the two. Elizabeth chose a pair of silver dangly earrings with balls and cubes. I’ll definitely be back there. I saw two gorgeous pendants with pictures of birds on them. I know that may sound strange, but I loved how unique they looked. But at 30 euros each, I wasn’t buying them Friday!

After our earring shopping, we had to book it to Agnes’ apartment so I wouldn’t be late for babysitting. I arrived just on time! Elizabeth did a little browsing in an English bookstore on the way home and met me later at Mimi and Jack’s for (guess what) more babysitting.

In slow times, I lament not having more news to share. But in busy times like now, I don’t have any time to share the news! I’m stealing a few moments while Allen and Elizabeth sleep in the other room, before I too go to bed.

Last Thursday, after my presque perfect day, I woke in the late morning to let my landlord in to fix something. Once he’d finished I realized it was lunch time, and I called Mimi to see if she wanted to get sushi as we’d talked about a few nights before. My timing was right, and I met her at her place at one. We headed to her favorite sushi restaurant, which turned out to be deserving of such distinction. I had miso soup, cucumber roll, tuna roll, and salmon avocado roll. It was on the verge of being too much food, but wasn’t that expensive with the lunch menu prices. I normally dislike miso soup - because apparently I’ve never had it prepared well. It was delicious!

No big events Friday, but I babysat in the evening for Mimi and Jack. As usual, Allen and I watched a movie.

Saturday, on the other hand, was a big night. Allen and I went out “for Valentine’s Day.” Through an entirely unplanned (and decided unsappy) turn of events, Valentine’s Day happens to be the day we got back together five years ago. I guess that worked out. We took a walk to Bercy Village and ate at a cute restaurant there.

Our restaurant experience started out a little shakily when the host hospitably greeted me in English. I know that speaking to me in English is an expression of dashing the stereotype of the inpitoyable, merciless Frenchman mocking the hapless English speaker - yes, he was trying to be nice. But I want to practice my French! So I practiced my French look of displeasure instead, and he got the hint and switched to French with over-the-top comments about how of course we speak French so well we must live in Paris, and there’s something about us that’s very French, but par contre we would have to order wine to be really French. Two years of teaching and six months in Paris, and I can achieve that kind of response with a look. My parents might argue that I’ve been practicing that look my whole life. Beware The Look.

Dinner itself was very good, and if I can locate the card we took from the restaurant, I’ll post the name here. Allen and I spent the whole meal having very serious discussions, which indicates to me that perhaps we should talk more. (Sometimes I like to check and see if Allen is reading this. He’s not, by the way.)

Sunday was another day of adventure - how many days in a row can we actually do something before I drop over dead from the novelty of it all? After so many days of sleeping too late and coming home for a quiet night in, it’s a shock to the system. But we bravely went out on Sunday to meet Antoine and Typhaine at the Canal St. Martin. I’d wanted to visit it since the last time I was in Paris, with my mom and Sara. (It’s just that we didn’t realize we wanted to visit it until the day we were leaving!) We had lunch along the canal, with decent food and awful service - the two of them were commenting on it, “This isn’t McDo! They could at least bring us some water!” We spoke in English this time, and I think we wore Antoine out! After lunch we walked back down the canal and to the Musee des Arts et Metiers, which is free and very interesting if you have not just eaten a big meal. Actually it is interesting even with a full stomach, but we should have had coffee after lunch. Antoine was trying out all of the comfortable leather couches, and halfway through, we all had to call it quits. The museum is attached to a church which is now home to a display of automobiles and planes. I posted a picture of a plane in the church on Gallery Schmanz. The museum is also home to the third cast of the Statue of Liberty (one in New York, one on the Seine, and one in the museum; obviously the latter two are much smaller) and a small exhibit on its creation. Currently, there’s an exposition (paying, I think) on Benjamin Franklin’s time in Paris, but we didn’t see it.

Surely that was all the excitement for the week. But no! Monday started a new week with a bang, with dinner at our landlord’s apartment right after we got home from work. Roger and his wife Sandy were very hospitable, and we ended up chatting (and laughing) with them until after midnight! They had some amazing stories, including one about adopting their two Native American sons from Canada and having to flee the country before legislation was passed the next day that would detain them all at the border and derail the process.

Tuesday the non-stop action continued when Elizabeth arrived to stay five days. Hoorah! She made us dinner, so we’re going to give her a medal and an honorary membership to our family of two. Then we all watched the Darjeeling Limited.

And that has been our week! It’s been so whirlwind we might be fooled into thinking we were back to our DC ways. (But there was no cat-sitting, no furniture assembly…must be Paris.) Stay tuned for the exciting adventure of applying for my carte de sejour so I can stay in this beautiful city!

On Friday night we had the pleasure of having dinner at Mimi and Jack’s apartment. This came about because last Friday they returned from their night out at 12:30 am, and we all sat around and talked until 2:45 am. I suggested, with great apologies for inviting ourselves over, that perhaps we could come over for dinner one night and hang out at a more reasonable hour. (We really can’t have them and their two young children - and us - in our 210 square foot apartment. And eat dinner. Goodness.)

We had a lot of food - and a lot of wine - starting with saucisson sec and carrot sticks with hummous and stuffed mushroom caps, along with glasses of champagne; moving to a Moroccan blush Gris de Guerrouane (which Allen and I brought over) with red pepper soup; followed by two bottles of red wine (and never fear - three bottles of water) with rotisserie chicken, roasted potatoes, and brussel sprouts; and finishing with Laduree macaroons (lemon, chocolat amer (bitter chocolate), pistachio, coffee, caramel, and raspberry) and homemade moelleux au chocolat (molten chocolate cake). A feast! (Of the macaroons, coffee was a new favorite, pistachio was the old favorite, and lemon and caramel won our hearts all over again too.) 

We talked about whether sexuality or violence was more dangerous for children, our thoughts about the presidential candidates, Jack’s post-college travel where he stumbled into a couple of week’s stay with Russian religious refugees in Rome (say that five times fast!), and anything else that came to mind. (Are we grown-ups now?) In my next post, I’m going to pose a question we discussed at the table and invite your responses. 

The night flew by, and in the end, we left at 3:15 am. So much for hanging out at a more reasonable hour. I’m sure they must have been exhausted this morning when they got up with the kids, as Allen and I were certainly exhausted (and we didn’t see the morning this Saturday). But we had a great time!

While I’m on the topic of babies, I’ve got a bit more to say. Actually, what I have to say applies more generally to my language experience in France this year.

When we first decided to move to France, I was motivated by two goals. 1) I would become more active and thus become more fit (as I did when I lived in Montpellier). 2) I would speak French constantly and improve my language skills to the point of fluency - finally (as I did not do when I lived in Montpellier).

I looked back to my time in Montpellier as a measure for what my time in Paris might be. During my (wonderful) ten months in Montpellier, two major things happened for me. I lost thirty pounds just by integrating walking into my daily routine and left there in the best shape of my life. And I made some of the best friendships of my life with other Americans. It was a high point in those two arenas.

And yes, my French did improve. It improved a lot while I was there. I have always been a reluctant speaker, excelling instead in the other domains of language. But my French improved so much in Montpellier, that when I had to take an oral exam in Medieval History, I not only passed but the professor thought I was European.

Still, I left Montpellier with no French friends except the family whose children I’d tutored. My social French use was not what it could have been, to say the least. So when I knew I’d be coming to Paris, I just knew I’d make French friends and fearlessly plunge into the world of spoken French.

This is where the babies come back in. My job is to play with babies. (My other job is to speak English to French girls.) Because English-speaking babysitters get paid significantly more (almost $5 an hour more), my job is to play with English-speaking babies. So not only am I speaking English, I’m speaking it with beings that can’t talk back! (Or maybe: So not only am I speaking to babies, but I’m speaking to them in English! I’m not sure which is more appalling for the state of my French.) I circulate in an English-speaking bubble.

We have a few French-speaking friends but don’t see them more than once a month. My exchange partner (see - I am trying) and I meet once a week, but she’s busy with exams right now, and we switch off between English and French.

It has always been very hard for me to put myself out there. Though I may come off as confident and social in my adulthood, inside I still feel like the awkward 13-year-old starting middle school in a new district. (For the record, I made one friend that year. One friend. The whole year. And it’s because she talked to me.) So the question becomes: how do you make new friends when you have no social circle to draw from? (No school, not even work?) I plan on getting another exchange partner or two and keeping my eyes open for classes or groups. My French-speaking year isn’t over yet!

For those of you who have recently (or not so recently) moved to another city and had to make a whole new group of friends, how did it work out for you?

Lately, two of the women I babysit for have gone shopping on my watch and come back with new maternity pants - but they’re not pregnant. On my most recent visit, they sang the praises of maternity pants in an effort to convince me that I too should invest in a pair. Maternity pants are so comfortable! A woman’s body fluctuates so much within a given month. (Heck, within a given day!) The band of stretchy material across the stomach has a flattening effect.

That is all fine and good. Lord knows I could use a flattening effect across the middle. But it just seems like a letterpress invitation to speculation if I start buying and wearing maternity pants. Oh, probably no one would ever know - until I raised my hands over my head to reach something on a high shelf or wore a shirt that was too short.

Now, some speculation about whether I’m pregnant or not (I’m not, and don’t hold your breath just yet) is natural, I suppose. I mean, I’ve been married for a couple of years, and it appears that I adore children. I probably like “other people’s children” more than a whole lot of other people (parents or otherwise). (Right, Mom?) But the fact of the matter is, nobody would be speculating if I were a size 8. So until I’m so trim I don’t need to wear maternity pants, or until I’m actually pregnant, there will be no maternity pants for me.

(By the way, I do think about babies a lot. I mean, I’m around them at least three days a week. But I do the baby check pretty often: “So, does this make you feel like you want to have a baby?” The baby check has never yet come back positive. Anybody else do the baby check? I can’t help it. Like I said, I’m around babies a lot.)