I am hurting, my friends. Hurting because I didn’t sleep on
my red-eye last night and have now been up for 28 straight hours. Hurting
because, propelled by visions of my Poulet Caesar sandwich at Cojean, I hiked
across town for it and—naturallement—they didn’t have it. Even though I had phoned and they told me they had it. So I continued to
hike around the city for the next six hours. Hurting because, as I hiked, I also shopped, adding a few things here and there—t-shirts from AmericanVintage, a book and French ELLE from WH Smith, bonbons from Michel Chaudun—until
my normally heavy bag was just about back-breaking. Hurting because I am 40 and stubborn and don’t know when to say “when” and my body is
hating me. Just hating me.
But I am also happy.
It’s always such a thrill to be back in Paris. To feel its
familiar ways and go to my favorite places and absorb every sight, smell and
laughable moment. This place affects me like nowhere else.
I am staying in my friend Ann Mah’s amazing apartment in the
7eme. It’s not far from where I studied as a college junior, so I know and
enjoy the neighborhood. But in my two years living in Paris and five separate
apartment swaps, I’ve never lived over here so it’s cool to experience a new
slice of the city.
I walked along the grey quais today, noticing buildings and
details that I never pay much attention to.
All the details that have so much to say.
After walking around Saint Germain, I actually circled back around to the
d’Orsay to go in, but it was closed. Just my luck.
But I went inside Deyrolle for the first time.
Although pictures are interdit, I snapped a few—some before
I was told we’re not supposed to, and some because the place was so damn cool I
couldn’t resist.
I circled the Grande Roue in Place de la Concorde, as
festive and frenetic as ever.
Wouldn’t it be great to stay at the Hotel de Crillon, and this was your view
leaving?
The Christmas lights are everywhere—one of the reasons I
came back this time of the year. I love, love, love it…
Not to mention, I get to come home to this every night
this week:
And for dinner tonight… before—hopefully—I drift for hours
and hours, just some of France’s necessities to enjoy.
God, I love Paris.