Finally

We moved into our place today, it is really something! In lieu of pictures, just note that the neighbors across the hall have a uniformed maid.

Surviving the Louvre

Anyone who has been there will attest the following:
1. Viewing the Mona Lisa is anti-climatic, you don't really care what is behind that smile, mostly because you won't get closer than 10 yards.
2. The enormous scale of the structure is overwhelming.
3. So what? If you haven't been studying ancient greece, egypt or the italian renaissance you will unlikely be compelled to stop at one painting for reflection.

What I can tell you having been there with a child in a stroller:
1. Tourists, not Parisians, are the true bane of of life in this city. They are rude, rude, rude.
2. The American Disabilities Act is a blessing, or you may find yourself walking backwards up several flights of marble staircases, and the tourists won't offer you a hand.
3. Rick Steves, though often a fantastic resource, becomes evermore annoying when he makes the following comment about the Venus de Milo in his guide book after you just dragged the stroller (and a very displeased child) up the stairs, "What were her arms doing? I say she was picking her navel."
4. A child who cannot yet walk CAN be a thief, so check what she is holding before you exit a bookstore in one of the most secure buildings in the world.
5. After a day of feeling overwhelmed by what you attempted, and underwhelmed by the art you experienced, the pyramid and the courtesy ride in an open-air elevator located in the exact center of the structure is a beautiful sight, and possibly the only thing you can take a picture of.

So, after all this what will I do now?
1. Study, study, study...and ask the all important question, "Why is this significant"
2. Break it down by wing and floor
3. Go at night (it is open until 9:45 on Wednesday and Fridays) and in the colder months to avoid the obnoxious tourists
4. Talk Nate into taking care of the baby when I go!

Stalking 101

I love Madonna. Love her.

Yesterday, I had to attend a "Spouse Breifing" to get general information on how to live in this city, the moment I was in the hallway I told Nate it was a complete waste of my morning. Nate had an hour and a half before he could take lunch, and it was such a lovely day out that I decided to wait for him. Then I remembered, Madonna was staying at the Hotel across from the park--and to think I was about to waste away the afternoon reading on a park bench.

Ruby and I headed over for the hotel. Eventually Madge had three mercedes parked in front for her "quick" exit. The size of the group of onlookers continued to grow, the size of the security detail grew, local police showed up for crowd control, paparazzi with camera lenses the like I have never seen perched on vespas were out in large numbers...my anticipation mounted, I knew I was about to see her, and not on a stage, or on a MTV interview, but in her full diva glory. I had a perfect view, but then the police decided to move all of us in that area...then I realized I have a badge to the building that would give me the best view in the house, and no one was allowed to stand in front of me now! So, abusing the privelages of my badge, I gained entry to a new point for stalking, and continued to wait. By this time, I had resorted to letting Ruby crawl around on the sidewalk to keep her entertained so I could wait for Madonna. Three hours later I was still there, her mercedes were still parked outside, the group was even larger than it had been, and I just couldn't wait anymore. She is a genius though, she had those cars parked and ready for her exit, her personal security detail ready for hours before she left. She generated so much attention before she left that old people would stop, ask what was happening, and then say "oh la la, Mah-doe-nah" (that was my french accent in writing) and wait. The crowd looked huge, but it had taken hours to create.

I ditched out. A few minutes later, from a cafe down the road, we heard the fans and the sirens.

Target Dog

If you don't get that title, congratulations, you aren't watching too much t.v. After a walk through the Marais this evening (and a Ruby photo shoot in the Place des Vosges) we passed a place called BHV, just next door to the Hotel de Ville. It is Target on crack. I love it. I was so worried I wouldn't find a replacement for my Target addiction in the land where boutique shopping rules, but alas, it is here, and it is glorious.

Don't get me wrong, boutique shopping is still the highlight of being a window shopper in this city. Our evening was intended to be a walking tour of the Marais a la Rick Steves. In an effort to locate a shop he highlighted as a must see in the neighborhood we fell onto the rue de Francis Bourgois. This is the street to shop on. Here, every style and every budget is addressed. I haven't yet heard the street mentioned in any of my guide books as a place to hit, but thus far, it is the best consolidated boutique area, a Parisian version of the outlet mall.

I promise, soon, very soon we will have pictures that show you why these places are more fab than I can even explain.

Cliff Notes posting

1. I prefer the bus to the metro: you see the city, it doesn't stink, and most importantly, it is super easy for me to ride with the stroller
2. If you see a Japanese tour group bound into a fashion establishment, by all means FOLLOW. I did this three times and was giddy with the excitement of the boutique shops I found (and they were affordable!)
3. The Galleries Lafayette puts every mall and department store I have ever experienced to shame. It has 7 floors, and the clothes...OHHHH THE CLOTHES!!!
4. After hitting so many fantastic stores I passed a Gap, with a tour bus of Americans unloading into it...WHY? WHY? WHY? After spending an afternoon around Paris, Gap becomes more ORDINARY than SIMPLE...and that is a crime.
5. How do the Parisenne's walk on cobblestones in heels. I walk in heels, I love them, but tried out the cobblestone combo on Sunday...just can't do it.
6. I am falling in love with perfume! This weeks fave: Lolita Lempicka (also available at Nordstrom's)
7. Big thanks to everyone who is viewing the site, we got 115 hits this last week...that is more like it people!!
8. We can't find our camera cord, once we do, we will upload pictures.
9. I wish I were out shopping right now
10. Two years...can't I stay longer!

Home Sweet Home

Hallelujah we made it out of that horrific place!!! After one night of misery in which Sina and I shared one of Ruby's towels and her Paris blanket since we didn't dare use any of the blankets provided, we managed to convince those in charge of our housing situation that in no way could we spend another minute in the 5-bedroom maze. So after having packed up all our stuff last night, including Barkley, and moving it over there, tonight we did it all over again in reverse, and we're happily settled back into our little 1-bedroom slice of comfort in Boulogne. Barkley may be the only sad one in this case, as the maze actually had long balconies stretching across the full length of the apartment for him to run around on, but as much as we love him, he'll just have to be satisfied with long walks in the park here.

Wow, I could never have guessed a plain little old apartment like this one could make me so happy! My mom used to tell us kids we weren't allowed to take our socks off in motel/hotel rooms (actually she still tells us that!) I'll admit I've fallen a bit in my adherence to that rule, but let me assure you those socks stayed on last night till I was actually in bed. Now that we're back here, it's sweet freedom for my tired toes!!

Serenity NOW!!!!

The Honeymoon is SOOO Over...

Sadly, as I write, I understand no one may read this entry. You see this evening Nate and I were moved to our second temporary housing location. Our first spot was a one bedroom apartment in a suburb that required a 30-45 minute metro ride to get into the city. Despite these factors, we were moderately happy with the situation: free cable (all hail the BBC), free internet access, easy and secure entry into our quarters. But for some reason, we were asked to move to a different suburb, closer to the city, and into a five bedroom apartment.

I spent the day packing, AGAIN, cleaning the house for the next arrival, AGAIN, washing all the hospitality sheets and towels (hadn’t done that one YET) and in general gearing up for another adventure. When we arrived at the “new” apartment, I couldn’t have been more disappointed. The further I walked through the endless symphony of mazes that are the hallways in a 5-bedroom, 3 bidit (that is, 3 small bathroom-type rooms with only a sink and a bidet), 2 full bath, 2 half bath, and 1 quarter bath (that's a very small room with only a toilet) apartment, I realized what I had potentially signed myself up for in this nomadic lifestyle we have chosen. Large swaths of paint were peeling of the walls, all the paint along the baseboards was peeling, large red stains in several locations on the carpet, and the smell...ohh, the smell. I felt like we had just moved from the Courtyard Marriott to a seedy Super 8 Motel somewhere in Kansas (no offense to my various friends from that great state).

I put Ruby on the floor in what was to be her bedroom. I needed to set up her bed as it was well past her bedtime. I looked back at her and she was coughing, she had already found something here to stick in her mouth. Despite my best efforts to keep my eyes on her, before she feel asleep we repeated this activity three different times. It wasn’t my favorite.
Once she was in bed, I decided it was time to start cleaning. BLEACH, BLEACH, BLEACH. I started in the kitchen. Now, if you have been reading this blog you will remember my absolute joy at the state of the kitchen in the last place, it wasn’t a missionary kitchen. When I looked in the kitchen sink, and I have refrained from taking my blog down this road in the past, but you just need to know, or rather I need to share...as I was saying in the kitchen sink I found several pubic hairs. Just writing that makes me heave, AGAIN.

The bedding they had for us was stained in several spots. Luckily you couldn’t tell exactly what the stains were from. When I shook out the blanket to make the bed two of those heavy, industrial-type staples came flying out. The thought of going to bed tonight makes me want to cry...oh wait I have done that already. Thus, I am finding solace in nursing a Coke (full strengh for this situation, no Diet). Thank goodness I brought along my favorite scented candle from Anthropologie, its gentle aroma and soft light just may be the only thing keeping my sanity intact!

Off to clean the shower, so I can take a shower.

Running

I just had to add my own small post tonight to Sina's. And first may I say that I found it fascinating that funeral potatoes do indeed have a culino-anthropological cousin here in France in the aforementioned "ravioli gratin"!

When I lived in France a few years back, I marveled at the phenomenon of French people running. Such a reserved people so much of the time, one would only occasionally see them jogging in the park, but otherwise spotting a Frenchman running was like spotting a wild puma in Central Park. Why run, when there are still a few puffs of that Gauloise to smoke, or one more barb to launch in whatever deep and thought-provoking discussion you and your compatriots are in the midst of?

Rare that is...unless the bus is coming.

Mind you, the bus and metro systems all across France run like clockwork - the most efficient systems I've ever used, and you don't even mind riding the bus here either, as there's no sense of any sort of "mass-transit caste system" prejudice that seems to come with riding the bus in the States. What that means in practical terms is that if you miss one, another one will be along any second, and will get you to wherever you're headed just as reliably as the bus you just missed.

But show the average French person, particularly young ones, a bus rounding the corner towards their favorite spot, or hear the sound of that metro train just arriving at the station, and they become like rabbits headed for shelter - nothing shall stand in the way of their catching that bus!

I'd thought things had perhaps changed, especially since Sina and I seem to see a few more joggers around our neighborhood, but today I was given another delicious taste of this crazy French compulsion. On the way home from work, I'd just stepped off a train to transfer to another, when the door-closing signal sounded behind me. I glanced up and there it was...the dark-clothed blur, the pounding footsteps, and, in spite of another train on its way in a matter of moments, a look of terror on that poor girl's face that possibly equaled that of her great-great-grandmother's as the Prussians descended on Paris so many years ago.

Mais t'inquiete pas ma cherie, un autre train arrive!

Parc de Boulogne

Not to be confused with the Bois de Boulogne, a forest of ill-repute in the evenings, the Parc de Boulogne is a beautiful park (rather small in comparison to the 865 hectare Bois--that is over 2000 acres for those of you still using the non-metric system). The park is a short walk from our temporary housing and has several streams and ponds, bridges and beautiful park benches, ducks and even a few beavers. After I took Ruby and Barkley out for a leisurely afternoon walk, I came back to our apartments to find several women playing with thier children inside the compound (which has only a small grassy area). I have to wonder, why play in the compound when this beautiful park that is just so much nicer is a SHORT walk away?

For anyone who has children I think the Parc de Boulogne is an excellent place to stop for an afternoon away from the city bustle. Even more importantly, it is only a few blocks from this little brasserie we found this evening called the Cafe du Theatre located on the rue de Paris. We had the scalloped ravioli for an appetizer and it was divine! The way they cooked the cheese is the way Funeral Potatoes wish the cheese could be made...if only I could learn how to do that myself. Nate thinks it is quite funny that I am eating French cuisine and dreaming of funeral potatoes, but I love them, I make no apologies for that.

Since I am from Utah and have participated in one too many "Progressive" Dinner activities, I feel I could make an amazing day of progressive meals for friends that visit...a full day of eating. It would likely start with these appetizers. If you ever come, let me know if you are interested in this Gastronomical Tour de France.

Paris Plage

Every August, as a consolation to the few Parisians who stay in the city when all others are on vacation, truckloads of sand are placed on the banks of the Seine creating a beach in the center of one of the world's largest cities. This year, Paris Plage was dedicated to the idea of French Polynesia, which ultimately meant the random placement of aloha print and woven mats. Various activities are provided throughout the event site, which is located on the right bank just east of Notre Dame. Unlike American festivals which would have come up with kitchy activities to honor the French Polynesian theme, this festival was 100% French. Boules ball, beachside louge chairs for reading or people watching, and even a swimming pool--which when we passed it was conducting a swim aerobics class, were available for all.

Perhaps it was the weather, a constant mixture of sun and rain--or perhaps it is owed to being the last weekend in the month-long event, but it seemed a little wanting. Don't get me wrong, it is beautiful to walk along the banks of the Seine, but one doesn't need sand deposited there to enjoy it. We will likely go back next year, early in the season, when the sun is shining, perhaps we will have a better opinion. But for now, I do not believe we will be recommending it to any of our friends who come to visit.

One recommendation we can make however is walking along the Seine, as opposed to on the Quai's just above. It is a small difference in distance, but it is the difference between a leisurely walk along a beautiful river with some of the world's best scenary along your way, or the rushed crowds of tourists shopping at the overpriced Bouquinnerie and cars honking at every small infraction. Without knowing it we walked nearly three miles, and it felt like we had the city all to ourselves.

I Love the BBC

I really, really love the BBC. Tonight I watched a show that discussed how all the US media moguls do is copy British television shows (can you believe it but even as far back as All in the Family and Sanford and Son...yup they were British first). In addition, they mocked our soap operas with a special shout-out to the well deserving, over the top Passions. They pondered our "values" when we ban the "F-Word" but promote shows like "Predator Justice."

But the most entertaining portion of the show came from a little clip I can't believe I had never seen. I am slightly ashamed of myself since I pride myself on my pop culture prowess, but this one flew under my radar. R. Kelly created a hip-hopera in 2005 called "Trapped in the Closet." It was so big he even performed segments of it on the VMAs and was honored with a special guest mockery apperance on "South Park."

Since I missed it I am assuming many of you did as well. So, for your viewing enjoyment, I am including episode nine courtesy of my favorite website www.youtube.com.

(The BBC also has a tv show called "Old Dogs, New Tricks" with fiesty women in their 50s who go undercover to call con-artist businessee to the floor, they are a true treat and I hope you all get a chance to see them soon. Not only did we watch tv today--the tv here is just so good!!--but Ruby and I took our first walk along the Champs Elysees to meet Nate after work. We grabbed sandwiches for dinner and then headed over the the Tuileries Gardens for a little picnic.)

Conversations With Other Women

I have only been out of the States for six days and already, I am missing events on the pop culture spectrum. I hadn't heard about this movie before I left, probably due to the fact that I hadn't made it to a theatre in months (still haven't seen DaVinci Code or last summer's big hits King Kong or Batman Begins), but I would have made arrangements for this one. If you haven't heard about it check out the movie trailer here http://fabrication.filmtrackonline.com/films_detail.asp?txtQuickSearch_FilmTitle=%7BFAAA8B59-6CF8-41C2-8D9F-CE0FD20BB6CF%7D&new=1

The director decided the tried and true story of having a secong chance with love could only be given a new breath of life if it was told as two stories, thus he films the entire movie on a split screen. The idea of this movie captivates me. Movies that have dialogue, character development, and interesting filming are all I need for a good night at the cinema.

If any of you see it, please drop me a note, or post a comment to tell me your thought, and give it a rating (scale of 1-10)

Road Trip

This is for Shannon. Though we may not have seen the movie together, I have to believe we both know the multiple layers of truth and emotions expressed in this one simple scene define a generation, well at least they describe us at some point in our lives. This song is dedicated to you because, really, half of being a friend is knowing you always have a place to call home when they are around.

Five Things I Have Learned...Already

1. Masculine vs. Feminine: This is a war of language, not of sexes. In French every noun is either masculine or feminine and it seems as if the French have a natural intuition of what article goes with which noun. However, while watching children play in the sandboxes and wading pools at the Luxembourg Gardens, I overheard a most entertaining conversation. Chloe, who was probably about four years old, wanted to fill her arrosoir (watering can) with water from the pools. She was trying to communicate this to her father and repeatedly said "ma arrosoir" (the feminine article). Rather than addressing her comments he would simply reply with a gentle correction, the masculine article "mon arrosoir." A simple correction in her speech yielded her a full watering can.

2. They smile: Really, I promise they do and quite often. It is likely in response to the little person sitting in the stroller, but nearly every person passes with an adoring smile. It might be directed at the bebe, but they are smiling. Additionally, they don't smile out of nervousness, much like we do (come on you all know when you accidentally make eye contact with someone on the street you give a nervous reactionary smile out of the corner of your mouth, while shifting your eyes the other direction), they smile for a reason. While eating lunch at an outdoor cafe in the Place de la Sorbonne (excuse my use of "name" dropping, but I still can't come to terms with the fact that I actually live here) it began to rain, immediately an automated awning extended across all the outdoor patrons with a great amount of noise. Knowing we had all shared in the awkward experience smiles, and a few laughs even, were exchanged.

3.They WILL speak English: They strike up conversations with me on the metro, when they see my French is limited they switch, all to quickly I might add, to English. I have however, avoided using any English in retail shops, and prefer to look through windows than venturing inside.

4. They are NOT all thin: They ARE all short.

5. They are not all fashionistas: Thus far, I am not inspired. I have not seen do-rags tied in all manner of fanciness, I have not seen one outfit I would like to copy, I have not seen any creative colors, new twists on old classics, etc...I have seen a lot of ballet flats (many more options than we have in the States) paired with jeans, and as anyone who has traveled in Europe can attest, America just does the jean better.

I offer only one disclaimer: it is August, and while many of the people in the city are French, I cannot guarantee that they are Parisians.

L'Eglise

Nate's office sponsor who greeted us at the airport ended up being LDS, thus eliminating any possibility of flying under the ward radar for a week or so - not that we would ever be tempted to do such a thing. From our temporary housing it takes an hour and two metro transfers to get to the chapel. The location of the ward is spectacular however. After church we opted to walk through the neighborhood, which meant past the Centre Pompidou, through the Louvre grounds and gardens, and finally to the Place de la Concorde. I don't think either of us have accepted the fact that we are actually living here.

Both Nate and I have to go to his office tomorrow, but as a little bonus Tuesday is a holiday. I don't think we will have a problem becoming accustomed to French living. (As a final note: Ruby slept from 2am-noon last night. It is now 9:30pm and she is fast asleep. That kid sleeps like a champ, no jet lag problems so far!)

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?

Today we arrived in Paris, despite the challenges that faced us in getting here, once we were on the airplane everything went rather smoothly. Ruby slept the entire flight. Barkley was waiting for us at the cargo hold. All our luggage was accounted for, and we immediately found our ride to our temporary quarters.

The apartment isn't bad, a small one bedroom place located 15 minutes from a metro station. Having only experienced Europe in missionary housing, I was startled by how nice and clean bathrooms and kitchens in Europe can actually be. We were exhausted and decided to take no more than a two hour nap. Once we woke up we discovered we had access to the Armed Forces cable networks, as well as wireless internet access. As Nate checked his emails and connected with life back home, I tried to immerse myself in the local culture the best way I know how - television.

Many of you know my affinity for the Sound of Music. I love it, have it memorized, watched it nearly every Sunday through out my life, and believe that Captain Von Trapp is one of the first men to have ever been on my Top Ten list. You can imagine the utter thrill I experienced when I found out that BBC was premiering a new competition, "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?" I was intrigued and postponed going on our walk to the Eiffel Tower to find out more.

As it turns out "Sir" (I guess if Tom Jones gets knighted, it loses some of its mystique and we can excuse the use in this instance) Andrew Lloyd Weber has decided to bestow upon the public the great honor of casting an unknown actress as Maria in his new production. The format is one we are all too familiar with: three judges assess perfomances, but ultimately we, the people, have the final say. This British Ryan Seacrest (hereafter referred to as BRS) reminds us that deciding the next Maria is an honor not to be take lightly, if given to the wrong woman, the result would be disastrous. He goes as far as suggesting "catastrophic consequences". Thus, we are warned to choose wisely.

Originally six thousand women auditioned, 50 made it to what BRC called a "mass Maria execution" in which they stood on stage singing their hearts out while Sir Andrew walked amongst them tapping them on the shoulder if their chance was over. Now, only ten remain.

I was familiar with the cult following Sound of Music has generated over the last years. However I was not aware of the tremendous scale of this fan base. Not only can viewers vote for the next Maria, but you can sing along with the actresses thanks to on-screen lyrics. And that isn't all, there is also a competition for the most creative Sound of Music costumes from at-home viewers.

The show seemed to be a little lack lustre, but it is more interesting than watching "the Hoff" and Brandy tell a duo of clothes changing magicians how amazing they are. I can't say I am addicted, but I can tell you I will tune in next week to see what else this competition has to offer.

(Please note: We did eventually get out for a walk to the Eiffel Tower, ate Croque Monsieurs and hot cocoa-it was very cold- at an outdoor cafe)

On the Road

The date of our move, as one friend so aptly described it, has been a moving target. It seems everytime we make a plan a new one is developed. This could not have been more true than on Wednesday when over 14 contingencies plans were developed (and that is NOT an exaggeration.) For those who have not been kept up to speed these are some of the plans we have in a five day period: Leave for Paris Monday, leave Wednesday, leave next wednesday, go on a road trip to Maine while we waited, then on Tuesday we got a call to leave Wednesday after all. Not only did we have to have all of our bags packed and prepared to live out of for 2 months while our permanent housing is arranged, but we decided last week to rent our home instead of sell. Luckily we found renters, but they were set to arrive on the same day as we were set to leave. It was utter chaos. In addition, we discovered last minute that the aircraft from DC to NYC was not large enough to carry our dog cargo. Finally we decided to fill our station wagon with the dog and any other cargo that would fit to NYC, however this solution left no room for our baby and half our luggage, so Nate and Ruby flew, and I got in the car for one last road trip to NYC.

Somewhere along the way, I wondered how it was I got stuck driving while Nate got to take the flight, but not two hours later, I realized that ultimately I got the better end of the deal. Bad weather in NYC kept Nate and Ruby grounded, on the tarmac, back and forth between the runway and the gate for seven hours. Our flight to Paris left at 9pm, Nate and Ruby finally arrived in NYC at Midnight. Of course, Ruby handled it better than anyone else.

So, we missed our flight, and hope to get out of here this evening...stay tuned, plans have been known to change.

Let's Hear it for the Boy

This is a shout out for my Matt, with out whom I would not be where I am today. You, like this video clip, changed my life.

Shout Out, Part Deux

This one is for Anais. This song most definately didn't have the staying power of a classic, but it does bring me back to some of our greatest summer memories. Trampolines, dances, naps, backyard band parties, James and Cameron, etc... This summer you let me listen to my bad hip hop, and I learned to love real music. You also made me start watching rated R movies.

Enjoy!

Shout Outs, Part Une

As I get ready to leave the great USA, I wanted to send musical shout outs to all my girls. A little video dedication straight from me to you.

This one is for Lacey, hopefully it will bring back as many great memories for you as it does for me!