I sit in an apartment in Paris as I begin to write this post – listening to a dubbed re-run of Who’s the Boss. Livin’ the life, right? But I have to admit that Paris was never a desired destination for me. I have listened to people for years tell me about how amazing Paris is, and how I ‘needed’ to visit Paris, and all the things I needed to do while visiting Paris….. There were two instances that I had planned to visit while I lived in Europe, but they fell through and I never regretted it. Once I decided to visit Brussels, I figured we better head to Paris for a few days – it’s only an hour or two away and we had a free place to stay….. but I wasn’t necessarily excited for it.

I began to feel that my hesitations were justified as Jess woke me from a nap on the train, “He needs to see your ID.” I was delirious and figured it was due to crossing the border into another country. The man began to explain something about 26 and telling us that we owed more money. Even though he was speaking English, I had no grasp of what was happening – even as he charged my credit card 55Euro more than the 100Euro we had already paid for our roundtrip tickets. And then Jess clarified – the ticket man had sold us youth tickets. And while he was convinced that we were 25, the man on the train had not been so convinced. Oh, and we’d have to pay an additional 55Euro for the tickets that we had purchased to get home.

Welcome to France. I watched the lush green countryside roll past my window as I recalled all of the stereotypes of the “rude French” that had been relayed to me. This was a sign that I should not be going to Paris…..

We arrived in the train station, bought a three day bus/metro pass, and found the public transportation that would take us from Gare du Nord to the apartment of Jess’ friend John. While sitting on the bus, an elderly couple began speaking to Jess in French. She relayed the translation to me – they were trying to help us as we were clearly on the wrong bus. This bus didn’t go to the Eiffel Tower. Haha. We may look 25, but apparently we don’t look French! Maybe the stereotypes weren’t so right afterall….. we had only been in the city for 10 minutes, and these people were trying to help us.

The remainder of that day involved consuming a pizza ASAP, followed by a lot of walking in a very cold environment. We walked the Champs-Élysées singing one line from the only song I recalled from French class, “Aux Champs-Élysées, Aux Champs-Élysées” to the Arc de Triomphe and onto the Eiffel Tower.

The following morning we awoke – to sunshine! We got dressed and proceeded out into the city to start tackling our list of tourist destinations. First up – the Eiffel Tower. We cut in line with our pre-purchased tickets and were on our way up. The view was good, and the sun felt amazing. Jess and I pondered life while overlooking what has been described as an incredibly ‘magic’ city. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. This is it? I wasn’t impressed.

We made our way down, out to lunch, then in and around Notre Dam. I still felt a void. This is not the experience others had described. Jess humored me by walking around the cathedral to see the back. I love flying buttresses. We sat in a park with a view of the best architectural invention known to man, and plotted our next moves. I wanted to see Chanel and Jim Morrison’s grave, while she wanted to explore the area around the Moulin Rouge. We decided to head to Montmartre for a bit, then hit up Chanel before meeting John for dinner.

While walking Montmartre, we experienced a thrilling display of the city’s best sex shops and peep shows. I was beginning to question Jess’ judgement for coming to this area of town. We turned left up a side street, and began walking towards the Sacre Coeur – a church on top of a hill that overlooks the city. We walked up several of the steps before taking a break. I found some cats to love on, and we continued to the top. Once we landed at the base of the church, we turned and sat on the steps to enjoy the view (as well as some musical entertainment in the form of Bob Marley). Ok, enough sitting – off to our next destination.

We walked around the side of the church to snap one last photo before finding our way back to the subway. And this is where the day (and the city) turned for me. This photo was snapped at the moment that I began to ‘get’ Paris.

All the sudden it wasn’t about ‘seeing’ the city, it was about ‘being’ in the city. I suddenly didn’t care what was next on my list, and turned around to find a cozy little side street with some interesting looking shops. We began to wander towards the shops, then got distracted by an exhibit of local artists in a square. They were selling original art pieces from watercolors to oils, portrait to still life to landscape. It was so endearing – and off the map. We began to follow streets – periodically looking at one another and asking, “left or right?” I fell in love – we had found an area of real Paris and we were the only ones speaking English. Jess and I talked about what our lives would be like when we moved to this neighborhood, and even picked out which apartment would be ours and why. We watched parents pick up their kids from school and stop in to the patisserie to grab some bread for dinner on their way home. We sat in a cafe surrounded by people speaking French and allowed ourselves to just ‘be.’ I knew that this was why I was in Paris. In fact, during part of our walk I looked at Jess and said, “I’ve been here before.” Consciously I knew that I hadn’t, but I had dreamt of the location several months earlier.

That night we experienced the second best meal of my life – warm goat cheese over a bed of lettuce with raspberry vinaigrette, ravioli with a cream sauce, and three desserts shared (berry crumble, chocolate explosion, and creme brule). I had died and gone to heaven. John took us on a driving tour of Paris on our way home. He indulged us in driving around the Arc de Triomphe and down the Champs-Élysées as we returned to the apartment for rest.

View of the Arc through the car window

The next morning we decided to hit up a Parisian garage sale/flea market, then experience the Pére Lachaise cemetery where several famous people are buried. It was a cold day, and I barely made it through our full cemetery experience. Aside from the immense cold, I loved wandering the ruins. The art in this particular cemetery was incredible – ranging from marble tombs and crypts from the 1800′s to more modern interpretations of tombstones (Oscar Wilde’s was very Art Deco). I wondered what the lives of the inhabitants had looked like, and mourned for the abandoned, moss covered, and shattered tombs that clearly were not visited on a regular basis. Plus, it’s clearly where the zombie apocalypse will begin…. so it’ll be cool to someday say “I was there.”

That evening we were invited to the home of some of John’s friends for a quaint dinner party. It was a very engaging evening highlighted by amazing food and drink. The conversation bounced between several different languages – English, French, and Italian – as we paused occasionally to enjoy the view of the Eiffel Tower through the kitchen window as it sparkled once per hour. And again it hit me – THIS is Paris! These were the experiences and feelings that people had when falling in love with the city. I couldn’t help but feel spoiled and blessed. I was able to experience Paris from a real perspective – not just the standard tour of the city, but the behind the scenes, exclusive VIP tour! Seriously amazing.

…..And then we drove around the Arc de Triomphe listening to my new favorite song by Jay-Z and Kanye West about being in Paris. Best. Trip. Ever.

Ah…. being back in Europe again. I’m not sure what it is about this place, but it just feels different. The architecture, the grocery store, the public transit, even the wind feels different – in a completely liberating way. One thing that I will tell you about America is that I love my freedoms there – my freedom to move about without being on someone else’s schedule (aka public transit), to speak in my native language, to travel between states, etc. But in the same breath I realize how tied down and regulated I am there – answering my phone, being accountable for my actions and my business, getting to appointments on time. The lifestyle here is much more relaxed – Jess and I have left the house for the past two days without a watch *and* I’m without a cell phone for two whole weeks. Something about Europe puts me at ease. And I like it.

One oddity about Europe for me is the language. Can you imagine every state in our country communicating in a different language? Upon landing in the Brussels airport, I felt inspired to dust off my Italian and begin speaking to strangers. Except – I’m not in Italy. People here speak a different language. One that I don’t know (ok, after giving me about 12 hours…. I was able to recall the numbers one to ten in French). Luckily Jess is able to communicate well in French, and a lot of people speak English. But I have found myself instinctively reaching for my Italian, and after uttering a few words I realize that the person I’m attempting to communicate with has no idea what I’m saying. This is the first time I’ve traveled to a country where the language isn’t similar enough to Italian for me to understand/communicate. The only other non-English/Italian countries I’ve visited are Spain, Mexico, El Salvador – all of which speak Spanish which is mostly similar to Italian (enough to understand and communicate basics). I did feel slightly useful today when we asked directions to the flea market and the man didn’t speak French, he spoke Spanish – which I understood and guided us in the right direction. I do have to say that I miss speaking Italian. Maybe I’ll be inspired to find some Italian meet-up groups in Seattle when I return.

My next conundrum is this book of mine that I have been inspired to write. I have started….. kinda. I wrote the back book cover synopsis, and have organized the chapters. But now I actually have to write it. And relive the emotions of the experiences I had. I’m getting a bit teary just thinking about it. Yes, some of it will be cheeky and sassy….. but the beginning and ending are very raw. Still. I’m am blessed to be visiting a most amazing and inspiring woman who is a writer herself (the reason she moved to Brussels in the first place). She has challenged me to lay it all out on the table and not spare any details – as hard as they may be for me to write, and for some of you who know me to read (sorry Mom!!!!). I’m not always the most emotionally available person….. which presents a bit of a struggle inside. I think I’m going to take this evening off, and start fresh tomorrow. My plan is to write the most emotional parts (the beginning and the end) first, because then it will be easy to finish the remainder with my sass and humor. But I guess that is to be seen….. I just ask for inspiration from the Gods, and probably a few bottles of wine!!!!

Buon settimana e un bacio da Bruxelles!!!

Neuhaus Chocolates - Yum!!!!

Jess and I enjoying the sights, sounds, and tastes of Brussels

I have been blessed to make six trans-Atlantic flights in the past 8 years. And was ecstatic to learn of a friend moving to Brussels, as it meant my seventh journey to Europe. We decided that I would visit in February, but when a business opportunity arose…. the trip was moved to January. Now, if I lived in other parts of the US – travel in February may be worrisome. But knowing that Seattle has very mild weather (none of which impacts the airport), I had no hesitations about booking my flight. Well, at least until this week.

I woke up on Wednesday morning at 2:30am. I knew that there was snow in the forecast, but it really couldn’t be that bad….. right? Wrong. After showering, doing my last minute packing, and making the bed for my housesitter – I hit the road. Well, I should say that my friend driving me to the airport hit the road. I sat in the passenger seat trying my best not to backseat drive. What is usually a 45 minute drive took us over 90 minutes. Why? Full-on blizzard. No joke. We couldn’t see the lines in the road and were directed only by the paths made by tires that had come before us. The windshield wipers had so much ice on them that they stopped doing their job. But if we stopped to clear them, would we ever get started again?

We made it safely to the airport and I made my friend come inside with me. I had found out during the drive that my flight had been cancelled. So I was worried that if I didn’t get onto another flight that I would be stranded at the airport for who knows how long. Luckily I was able to catch an earlier flight into JFK. I said my goodbyes, made it through security without issue, and boarded the plane.

The bad news is that Seattle is not equipped to handle the amount of snow that we received. They have limited equipment to allow the airport to function at full capacity in snowy weather conditions. Which caused us to sit in the airplane for nearly three full hours before even making it to the runway. Fun, right? Especially when there are two ornery small children sitting within your near vicinity….. ugh. And did I mention that my delay between my two flights was only three hours?

We finally make it to the runway. The pilot kicks in the engines and we dart down the runway. Only to have everything shut down a few hundred feet into our takeoff. WTF. We taxi along the remainder of the runway and turn back towards the airport. The pilot informs that one of the indicator lights wasn’t working, so we had to be checked by maintenance. This was officially the point at which I knew I wouldn’t be making my connecting flight. But I have to admit – I still held out hope that my flight out of JFK was delayed, or that there was an alternate flight.

The flight to JFK went without incident. Well, except the kids near me. Anyway, I arrive at JFK to find out that since I was transferred airlines, I have to change terminals and go through security all over again. I arrive at the Jet Airways ticket counter to find it completely empty. Abandoned. The help desk was able to connect with the manager, who came down to help and inform me of the sad reality – I wasn’t leaving JFK until the following day.

At this point I had already logged 12 hours and just wanted to sleep. I booked a room at the Doubletree JFK and decided to relax for the night. Bad choice of hotels. The restaurant was awful and dirty, the TV barely worked, and the heater banged loudly every time it turned off. I guess I should be happy I at least had heat – I talked to two other people who didn’t have heat at all. Anyway, all of this I could look past. Until 8am this morning, when a work crew began to install carpeting in TEN surrounding rooms. My plan had been to sleep in until 11am, and then take my time getting ready for the 1pm shuttle. That did not happen. I endured the banging and hammering for about four hours, and then had to leave. When I walked out of my room, I was shocked to find all of the furniture from all of the surrounding rooms lining the walls of the hallway. And when I brought it up to the manager I was told that I should have requested a new room – at 8am this morning! ha. She tried to rectify it by offering me a discount for my next stay there. I calmly explained to her that there would be no ‘next stay’ for me at that Hilton, or any other Hilton for that matter.

The good news is that I made it to my flight and am here – with only a few other annoyances. I had to pay a fee for changing the date on my ticket, they didn’t have my gluten free meal on board since I had switched flights, the baggage handlers in Brussels were on strike, and the taxi driver didn’t know the address that I needed to go to…… I was greeted by a familiar and friendly face once the taxi driver finished studying his map and delivered me safely to my location, the proceeded to take the best shower of my life.

Jess has already taken me out to the local grocery and bread shops. We plan to hit up downtown Brussels tomorrow – in search of lace, chocolate, a great dinner, and then possibly a pub and/or some dancing. We’ll have a few more days in Brussels which will be filled with writing, reading, exploring, cooking, and most likely laughter. Then we depart for Paris for a few days. It’s going to be a quick trip, but I feel so blessed to be here. Even more so after finding out that the SeaTac airport is closed due to weather conditions. I’ll post a few more updates and photos throughout my two weeks here.

To all my friends in the Pac NW – stay warm and safe! Enjoy the snow, and make a snowman for me :-)

It’s award season. The time when we all wait anxiously to see what the stars are wearing as they step onto the red carpet. So, why am I yawning? The fashions displayed at the Golden Globes tonight were less than stellar. Here, let me give you some visuals.

Not a flattering shape.

Again - not flattering, and quite boring (no style lines).

You definitely wouldn't catch me in this number.

Not impressed Natalie..... But I do love the color.

Seriously - who thought this was a good idea?

Ok. Now that that’s over. Let’s talk about the *few* who did it well.

Interesting texture, gorgeous shape, flattering to her body. Bravo!

Stunning - variety, contour, flare. Love it!

Hands down my favorite of the night - well done Tilda!!!

Maybe I’m being a bit harsh. But when I think of red carpet – I definitely don’t think of beige/nude (which there was *far* too much of this evening!!!!!). And I don’t think of minimalistic. I guess there is a place for such looks, but the red carpet is a rare opportunity to dazzle and surprise. Here are a few looks from the past that are the epitome of ‘red carpet’

Intricate details..... play with volume.... even though it's beige - it's eye catching and memorable.

I saw this dress in person in NYC and will *literally* never forget it. Love the play on volume and the laser cutting.

Glamorous, fun, and exciting!

I know that some of you will disagree with me on this - but you can't deny that this dress made a statement. People are *still* talking about it 11 years later.

Here’s to hoping that the stars step it up a notch for the Oscars!