Stay present
I can't believe that I'm really here and writing to all of you from PARIS!!!!!! This trip has been a dream of mine for a long time now, and the time has finally arrived!!! It's ironic, though that the more you build up to something you're truly excited about, the more stress can grow over the anticipation. I was reminded of this the morning I left for Paris.
Half packed.
It takes me forever to do anything. It just does. But somehow, packing for Paris took an UNUSUALLY long time. Some of Maggie's outfits have lots of volume, and no amount of squishing or cramming could seem to make it easier to fit everything in easily. It took so long to pack the wardrobe, then eventually my own things, that I started running out of time. And to make matters worse, my back started acting up. I have been prone to back spasms before and between lifting my suitcases and tons of tension/stress, my back started threatening to go into spasm. This slowed things down even more and suddenly I was sure I would miss my flight.
Somehow I finished
I arrived to the airport filled with anxiety. In my Lyft I had attempted to change my flight to a later one to give me time to breathe and had done so unsuccessfully. And during the process of trying to change things unsuccessfully, I was charged $150. Upon trying to check in I was directed to a different desk where I would be assisted in straightening things out. A woman who I will call "Shirley" waved me over and asked how I was doing.
"I'm having a day."
I explained everything that happened, so far and Shirley got to typing. Within a few minutes she looked up and said that she had refunded me the $150. And of course, I started crying softly in gratitude. She then worked on re-booking me, as I had missed the window to check my bags. I told her that my fiancé had a certain status with the airline, in case that made a difference. It didn't. But that's where the fun began.
"Soooo. When is the big day?!"
She then took my hand and her eyes lit up when she saw my engagement ring. She told me a story about her wedding day. She pulled out her phone and showed me photos from a family wedding so I could see a potential venue in Colorado. She gave me the advice to make sure we are doing things OUR way, and not for anybody else. And when a man started huffing and puffing behind me, she quickly sent him to a different desk. Then went back to showing me her camera roll.
It was comical in many ways, having this conversation in front of other people waiting. It was like a scene out of a movie or a sketch from SNL, for sure! But it was also a gift. Truly. Because up until that moment, all that I had in my head was that I was a failure for not packing days in advance...for not taking care of my back all week. And while I'm often scattered on days where I fly (I prefer road trips), it's rare for me to actually miss a flight. What Shirley did was get my energy grounded. She completely calmed me down. She brought my attention back to what matters most: the people I love. She reminded me how refreshing it is to genuinely connect with a stranger and exchange true friendliness. And she knew that she could get me on a different flight without doing it frantically. I was genuinely touched by her kindness...and it reminded me to stay present.
A sea of tulle
My two flights were great. Side note to Nathan: I attempted to not fart on the plane. Not sure it happened. And I DID try using the bathroom, but what you did NOT say is that people would be knocking on the door due to impatience. But I digress.
Try not to fart.
The pilot promised fine dining, and fine dining we received!
I landed in Paris. The officers were searching lots of people that day, and when they decided to go through my luggage they were a bit amused at all the dresses and accessories that I packed for Maggie to wear. I think they were hoping to find drugs, but they obviously did not. All that was in my bag was an innocent sea of endless tulle. The two officers cracked some jokes under their breath as they handed me back my suitcases. I'm sure it made interesting discussion over dinner with their families that night. Happy to be of help.
Henri
Just a Mercedes-Benz. No big deal.
I have never stayed in an AirBnb before, nor have I needed to take an Uber by myself in Europe before. When Martin and I visited Paris in January, our first Uber driver spoke almost no English, so I was worried it might happen again. Luckily, I had the very best Uber driver in Paris pick me up...and in a Mercedes-Benz! Henri was my Uber driver that day and so incredibly helpful. He gave me all kinds of tips for where to go with Maggie, as well as what parts of France to visit other than Paris in the future. He also warned me about pick-pocketing and where to be the most careful. We arrived to the apartment way faster than I thought it would take and before I knew it, I was all checked in and waiting for Martin.
Pamplemousse Juice
Martin arrived from Ireland a few hours later. He was able to visit my (soon to be) in-laws and will also head to London (jealous) after we finish up in Paris. Once we were both settled, we decided to check out a local grocery store in hopes of eating at least some meals at home.
French fruit, obviously.
Neither Martin or I speak French, aside from my ballet terminology and anything I can sort of remember from high school (sorry Monsieur Tabegna...you were the most amusing teacher ever, but I really just didn't pay attention) so while some things in the store were easy to identify, others we had more trouble with.
Martin had no problem identifying this, however.
Everyone knows that you should never go grocery shopping when you're hungry. Martin did better than I picking up healthy things. But I went right for every dessert I could find. And juice. We now have a refrigerator with every kind of juice. But if you want grapefruit juice, you're out of luck and here's why:
"I'm getting this one, as well."
"I thought you didn't like grapefruit juice?"
"Ew. I don't."
"Soooo....why did you get it?"
"I didn't."
"You did."
"Martin...pamplemousse means "PEAR"."
"Mark. There's a photograph of a grapefruit on the front."
"Ok...but...well....I just thought maybe....maybe that is what a French pear looks like..."
"................................................"
"Fine. I'm not getting this, I've just decided. Carry on."
And that's why you won't find grapefruit juice in our Paris refrigerator.
Martin holding caramel biscuits, which I thought would make a sensible breakfast for myself.
Early bedtime/Early rainstorm
I think I can, I think I can, I think I...
...nope.
Martin and I planned to go have a gorgeous dinner out in Paris and maybe see the old Eiffel Tower (as one does), but we were both exhausted after a long day of travel. We headed to bed way earlier than I imagined on night one, but it was a relief for my back to finally be in a bed. When I woke up prior to sunrise, it was raining quite heavily...perfect for blogging...and luckily the rest of our trip should be dry!
As I'm writing this, Maggie is hours away from leaving for the airport!!! In the meantime we are going to location scout, eat pastries, but not drink grapefruit juice. Or for that matter, pear.
See you tomorrow.
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