J'Adore Paris!
Paris was amazing. I loved it. I couldn't recommend it more. The only negative about it is that it's uncomfortably expensive, but what can you do about it other than accept the pain and realize it's a once in a lifetime opportunity to dive into a new culture. $4 Euro coca cola (roughly $6 American). And I thought NYC was overpriced. But Paris was clean. Paris was much more relaxed. I didn't think people were mean at all. I think if anything they were just confused about how to approach my mangled french. lol
I loved it. I loved the stylish people. I loved the delicious food. I loved the smells of the wafting french perfume. I loved the wonderful french bread. I loved the french-ified Japanese food. I loved the fragrantly wonderful vanilla ice cream. I loved the Monoprix. We went to all the "major" things like the Eifle Tower, Notre Dame, L'Arch de triomphe, Le Champs-Elysees and Le Louvre. Touristy of course, but you have to do it, right? The best part was the food. Hands down. Wandering around the Seine and finding a cute patisserie and stuffing our faces with croissants and french bread.
It was a ton of fun. If I were a richer person I'd happily spend and spend and spend and eat until I exploded. Trevor hates shopping so I didn't force him to wander around looking at expensive things he doesn't entirely understand. I try not to be too materialistic, but I can't help but go all doe eyed around a beautifully constructed leather purse. I won't lie, I broke down and I bought a little leather jacket after seeing how stylishly all the french women wore them. Seriously. I think 90% of all the french girls and women I saw had an edgy little leather bomber on. Skinny jeans. Colorful scarf. This is the uniform of your average Parisian woman. No baseball caps. No Khakis. Certainly no sweat pants.
But I'm happy to be home. I could rant and rave about Paris for hours but I genuinely missed my bed once I got back. My mom's best childhood friend lives in France and insists we go back to visit her for a more extended period. She's so cute. She reminds me of my own mom, if my mom were half french. And even she had a jaunty little leather jacket and wore fragrant french perfume. It's honestly a uniform over there! But I missed my bride. Kim's getting married at the end of the month and I'm sure the stress is eating at what is left of her sanity.
I complain and complain and complain...and then complain some more about this whole bridesmaid thing but you could not pay me to do my wedding planning all over again from start to finish. So very stressful. It was a beautiful amazing day but I don't envy any of my engaged friends. Wedding planning brings out the monster inside of you that you never thought existed and never knew cared so much about linen colors. In normal life I don't even have plates that are the same pattern on the table at the same time but for some reason it was desperately important to get the right color napkins? Your priorities somehow get desperately out of whack. And you get so emotional about things. You don't like my color scheme? Let me cry for a week. You don't think a wedding menu is complete without beef? Let me sharpen my pick axe and contemplate wandering outside in your bushes at night. I don't so much miss the crazy.
I even knew it was stupid but somehow it was still really important I do it just right or somehow every single one of my wedding guests would think less of my party planning ability. And the direct correlation to my great wedding planning and my personal self worth made sense at the time. I knew all my own friends would be cool, and I knew Trevor's family would love it, but somehow the opinion of my own extended family really got to me.
I loved it. I loved the stylish people. I loved the delicious food. I loved the smells of the wafting french perfume. I loved the wonderful french bread. I loved the french-ified Japanese food. I loved the fragrantly wonderful vanilla ice cream. I loved the Monoprix. We went to all the "major" things like the Eifle Tower, Notre Dame, L'Arch de triomphe, Le Champs-Elysees and Le Louvre. Touristy of course, but you have to do it, right? The best part was the food. Hands down. Wandering around the Seine and finding a cute patisserie and stuffing our faces with croissants and french bread.
It was a ton of fun. If I were a richer person I'd happily spend and spend and spend and eat until I exploded. Trevor hates shopping so I didn't force him to wander around looking at expensive things he doesn't entirely understand. I try not to be too materialistic, but I can't help but go all doe eyed around a beautifully constructed leather purse. I won't lie, I broke down and I bought a little leather jacket after seeing how stylishly all the french women wore them. Seriously. I think 90% of all the french girls and women I saw had an edgy little leather bomber on. Skinny jeans. Colorful scarf. This is the uniform of your average Parisian woman. No baseball caps. No Khakis. Certainly no sweat pants.
But I'm happy to be home. I could rant and rave about Paris for hours but I genuinely missed my bed once I got back. My mom's best childhood friend lives in France and insists we go back to visit her for a more extended period. She's so cute. She reminds me of my own mom, if my mom were half french. And even she had a jaunty little leather jacket and wore fragrant french perfume. It's honestly a uniform over there! But I missed my bride. Kim's getting married at the end of the month and I'm sure the stress is eating at what is left of her sanity.
I complain and complain and complain...and then complain some more about this whole bridesmaid thing but you could not pay me to do my wedding planning all over again from start to finish. So very stressful. It was a beautiful amazing day but I don't envy any of my engaged friends. Wedding planning brings out the monster inside of you that you never thought existed and never knew cared so much about linen colors. In normal life I don't even have plates that are the same pattern on the table at the same time but for some reason it was desperately important to get the right color napkins? Your priorities somehow get desperately out of whack. And you get so emotional about things. You don't like my color scheme? Let me cry for a week. You don't think a wedding menu is complete without beef? Let me sharpen my pick axe and contemplate wandering outside in your bushes at night. I don't so much miss the crazy.
I even knew it was stupid but somehow it was still really important I do it just right or somehow every single one of my wedding guests would think less of my party planning ability. And the direct correlation to my great wedding planning and my personal self worth made sense at the time. I knew all my own friends would be cool, and I knew Trevor's family would love it, but somehow the opinion of my own extended family really got to me.
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