Tea and Crumpets for the Easter Bunny

For the very first time in my French adult life, I had plans for Easter. It all worked out par hasard, as they say, but it just so happened that Copain had plans to go to London, and it just so happened that all of my English friends were free to come to Paris. 

Voila! Girls weekend chez moi was born.

Two of my friends took the TGV up from Cannes and another took the train down from Normandy, and we all squished into my peanut apartment - two on the sofa bed and two in the normal bed. It was, shall we say, cozy.

We went to l'Asian Wok for dinner, celebrated a 30th birthday at Mama Shelter, went to see 10 Ans de Mariage at the Le Palace, brunched at L'Echappée, and watched Runaway Bride whilst noshing on bread and cheese in our pjs on the couch that just stayed a bed all weekend long.

I introduced my friends to the greatness of Hema, toenails were painted, eyebrows were plucked and we vacillated between coffee and tea, trying to keep warm in arctic Paris (in an apartment that hasn't been properly heated since we moved in circa 2010). 

Despite my best efforts to heat the place as soon as Copain left the house (shhhhh, he'll never know...), my poor friends from the South had to request long-sleeved tops to keep warm at night! La honte...

What we lacked in heat, I hopefully made up for in English goodies and Easter baskets...

Crumpets for breakfast 

(I was given the "how to butter a crumpet" lesson - 

right out of the toaster, in case you were wondering)

Easter goodies for Sunday morning

And for the first time, in 8 years, Easter weekend was fun and spent with my peeps - who are really my France family when it comes down to it. Because when you live abroad and your family is on the other side of the world, your friends become your people. 

At brunch on Sunday morning, Dancer friend met us at l'Echappée. When I told her that somehow I so needed to have these holiday plans, and that as long as I've been here, Easter has been a disappointment, she told me that she knew exactly what I meant. 

And all this time I thought I was a bit of a crazy lady for wanting some good old fashioned Easter egg hunting and kids on sugar highs running around! 

We decided right then and there, that we would count on each other for the holiday plans we've been missing abroad, and that we would never have another bummer Easter weekend in France again.

Sometimes Paris is Better

When Copain announced that he would be spending this weekend with his parents in Biarritz, I was kinda bummed that I wouldn't be joining them.  A getaway to the beach with nothing but soupe de poisson (fish soup!) and les balades (strolls) along the coast to worry about sounded like just the vacation I needed. But alas, I had to stay in Paris.

My first indication that I had made the right decision was this MMS sent by Copain from Montparnasse train station:

Accompanying text: Aren't u happy right now? It's a mess here

Then I got this:

Accompanying text: My seat and the train

Needless to say, 6 hours on a fold-down chair, squished in-between what are surely bed-bug covered suitcases, would have put me completely over the edge.

Then I got this:

Accompanying text: Pig's ears!! Did you see the blood vessels?

I had forgotten that Copain had asked his mom to get him pig ears and apparently Belle-Mère pulled through for him. Oh. dear. god. Does this not remind you something you once fed to your dog to gnaw on? 

This text was followed by another one indicating that the next three days would be rainy - Rain + Beach = depressing (except I guess it does make hot soupe de poisson taste that much better).

Finally, I got this gem:

Accompanying text: I found our new salad spinner!!

Now in this instance, it's Copain who's lucky I couldn't go to Biarritz, because if I had been there when he suggested we purchase this GIGANTIC gadget to put in our teeny Parisian apartment (right next to all of his other genius purchases!!!!!!), surely I would have exploded in his face. 

Oh my life.

See, sometimes it's just better (for everyone) to stay at home in Paris, bed-bug free with normal food and no physical violence due to inappropriate purchases by significant others.

Three-Day Weekend - 0 Plans

Copain is visiting Toulouse this weekend, which means that I am toute seule for three days.  November 11th is a holiday in France as it marks the end of WWI. l'Armistice - signed between the Allies and Germany on the "eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" takes an even greater meaning this year, 2011.

I would usually be excited for a three-day weekend- even one I spent alone-  but you know what they say about too much of a good thing... last weekend Copain was in London AND though we didn't have a three-day weekend, we did have the first of November off of work.  Let's just say I did a lot of blog reading and way too much eating at restaurants. My pocketbook is a leeetle bit triste these days (and my hip flexors hurt from too much sitting! That just can't be healthy.)

I vowed to myself that I would NOT spend this weekend the same way - that I would motivate myself to Get Off Thy Couch and Discover La Ville de Paris - but as you can see from this here blog post, I am typing. on my couch. in my pajamas.  (with coffee!). I promise it's not as depressing as it sounds: I also have a home-made muffin.

See, I'm pretty sure I know what my problem is: I hate to plan. I literally CANNOT stand it. My entire life has been planned, all the way to college.  Not one minute of my time was just "free time" to do whatever my heart desired. Result: when I got to college, I said "no" to everything.  The thought of being committed to anything freaked me out.  What if I said yes and then didn't want to go the day of?! Oh the horror! The stress! So I just said, "no" or "perhaps" - you know, to be all vague-like.  I still haven't managed to fix this problem. What makes matters worse is that I'm really good at planning - for things like my job, events, schedules.  I can type you up an operations document with all the details, like wow. But ask me to do it for my own life - ahhhhhh, I run the other way.  I can hardly make a dentist appointment people.

Yesterday, I gave myself two mental stars for making - wait for it- not only an eye appointment, but also a specialist appointment for my back. What I couldn't manage though, was planning something for this weekend. That was just waaaay to much to ask. I had ideas of grandeur - a girls weekend with a long lost copine! A weekend overnight somewhere new! But nope, nada.  You're probably wondering why I didn't just go with Copain.  Well, almost every time we see his parents, we both go together. I figured that it would be nice for them to spend time, just them. I know that sometimes I like to see my family alone - I can take walks with my Dad, have girl days with my Mom and Seester, and yell at my Bro for drinking milk straight out of the container. I can hang out with girlfriends, just us. So this is his time and then, we will spend Christmas together with my family in the states.

Obviously, I have some work to do - on myself. Suggestions on how to get over this horrible fear of planning??


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Wow, thank goodness for good friends - this just in, texto-style (literally!) - I have plans for the day! (three cheers!).  I'm off to eat Bo bun with My Very Parisian Friend and then make gaufres (waffles!) with kids for the gouter! Phew, I guess I just side-stepped the all-day couch land mine; you're welcome hip-flexors. Thank goodness for friends who can plan.  Now for Saturday and Sunday...

Easter Weekend NOT in Chartres

Never on top of planning our long weekends, it was only last night that Copain and I decided that maybe we should take a Saturday day trip and get out of Paris for Easter.

We brainstormed a few choices - Fontainebleau (but I've already been there), Giverny - where we would bike from the train station in Vernon to Monet's house and beautiful garden, or Chartres - a supposedly charming little town with a very large cathedral. 

We decided on Giverny with the bike ride being the main attraction but when we called Monet's house and the dame started talking about large crowds and lignes d'attente, Copain called Belle Mère who advised us to avoid the crowds and go to Chartres.

It was 9am - the train was leaving at 10.33 from the Gare Montparnasse. We totally had enough time.  But then I had to use our new epilator on my legs so I could wear a dress. And by the time that was done, I still had to put on the dress and do my makeup.  By the time we left the house we were running to Metro line 1 with only 35 minutes to get from chez nous to la gare.  Oh la la - yeah. oops.

We were thinking positively - we even made a no-fighting pact for the day - things were looking up. Line 1, Line 4 (complete with THE SMELLIEST HOMELESS DUDE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD - I almost dry heaved). Then BAM - Gare Montparnasse!  We had already come to the conclusion that we wouldn't have time to buy tickets and that we would have to do so once on board. No biggie. We ran through the gare, up the escaliers, jumping over suitcases and herds of new tourists just arriving in gay Paris. Three minutes to go...

We spotted quai 20 and ran towards it just as the bell started to ring! Copain asked the cheery SNCF worker if we could purchase tickets on board to which he answered by shaking his head - Non. 

Super.

Never one to follow the sort of rules put in place by the SNCF (or the RATP for that matter), Copain ran down the quai, prepared to jump onboard anyways.  But then we stopped in our tracks - the train was PACKED. When I say packed, I mean, all seats were full and people were standing packed in like sardines in the common area between the cars.  Every. single. car. 

We gave up. We laughed - we had made it just in time- but we would not be going to Chartres. 

As we walked through the gare deciding what to do with our day, we realized that it was ridiculous to try and leave Paris without a pre-paid ticket on a holiday weekend. The rest of Paris had decided to do the same thing and it was everything but a holiday on that train.  We decided to do only things we had never done in Paris for the day and here is what we did...

We walked down rue de Maine and found a very cool bonsai store - one of them was selling for 1400 Euros. That is some serious zen.

Then we stopped in at the Montparnasse cemetery where the likes of Simone de Beauvoir and Samuel Becket are buried...

We walked all the way to Avenue de General Leclerc, past the metro Alesia (where I popped into a store to check out summer dresses - no luck).  We walked all the way down the Porte d'Orleans and then crossed in front of the impressive Cité Universitaire ...

This is one of the oldest houses on the campus (nothing like the craphole I lived in when I first arrived in Toulouse - scary Chapou!!)

Finally we went to Franprix and bought a picnic complete with baguette, ham, chèvre cheese, grated carrot salad and frozen fruit (my favorite!) for dessert.  We found a nice little bench at the Parc Montsouris (and it was such a beautiful day that I didn't even mind that much when I snagged by dress on a nail in the bench and ripped a hole right in the butt). 

This was our lovely park view - with Spring in full effect- as we enjoyed lunch...

ducklings!

fish!

calm

little girls in Easter hats, little boys in capri pants, parents on picnic blankets

We decided that (despite public opinion)  Paris is a great place to be for Easter - and that we will probably never try to leave Paris again on a holiday weekend. Better to let everyone else leave so that we can enjoy the city - all to ourselves.