Métro, Boulot, Dodo

Yann and I took what I call our 'mini-moon' just after the wedding at the beginning of September. It was basically an extended weekend in the South of France - Marseille and Cassis. A region known as Provence.

For four days, we sat by the pool and soaked in the sunshine, ate fabulous seafood at sidewalk cafés and took long runs on dusty trails down to ocean inlets known as the 'Calanques'. It felt like the first time in a LONG time when we could both just sit back, relax and enjoy.






















My how far away that minimoon seems!

I have now since started working in Paris. I remember back in 8th grade my french professor taught us the phrase: "Métro, Boulot, Dodo'. These were french 'argot' - slang words to make us feel a little more hip. The phrase meant: subway, work, sleep. We learned that this was the life of the Parisian. Their daily grind.

At the time, I imagined little gray people, looking sad and wiped out, packed in like sardines inside a subway car and down on life. And I must say, I wasn't too far from the truth :)

But I am happy to be back at work and, while I get used to the "métro, boulot, dodo" daily grind, here are a few brief observations about working in France:

1) Everyone says 'bonjour' and 'bonne journée!' to everyone on the elevator - EVERYONE! I left work tonight with 7 people telling me 'have a good night!'. Fabulous, if not sometimes awkward.

2) Work starts late and ends late. When I arrive in the office at 8:45AM, I am the first to arrive. But when I leave at 7:30PM, I am the first to leave.

3) Lunch is mandatory. It could be 30 minutes long, or 1 hour 1/2 long, so long as it happens. There are no exceptions (that I've seen anyways...). Another win (because I love to eat...and not at my desk).

4) "Want to grab coffee?" here means: "Let's take a walk down to the kitchen so we can push a button and get a shot of Nespresso!" While this initially was a let-down, I have been making a calculation of how much $$ I will be saving by not taking my daily Starbucks break as I used to back at home.

5) No positive feedback from anyone is normal. The ultimate goal in working in France is to have no feedback whatsoever - this means 'Great Job!'

Those are my initial take-aways from living and now working in France. I will keep you posted on what transpires and how I may be spicing up my daily routine so as not to turn into one of the hundres of gray, sad Parisians I see in the métro every morning.

09.02.2010

For a bride-to-be, waking up the morning of her wedding with pink eye is never a good thing.

And so was my plight on the morning of September 2. Note to self: NEVER let the MAC lady talk you into 'doing your makeup' two days before your own wedding. Bad idea.

Thanks to good advice from my dear friend Annaelle and the lovely pharmacist located just below my apartment, I was provided with the drugs needed to allay my sorry eye. At least, long enough to make it through the wedding ceremony and celebrations.

The day began with my dear friends, Carole, Annaelle, Natacha (Yann's sister) and myself, waking up to a beautiful sunny day and oh, yes, the FranceTelecom man who finally came to set up our internet service.

The girls had spent the night previous with me and we'd kicked the guys out the day before. So let me tell you, walking into an apartment full (nearly) of lovely ladies at 8AM was NOT the worst day for Mr. France Telecom man.

Flash forward several hours to Carole and Annaelle making French 75s (per my request, aren't they dears?) in the kitchen as Natacha and my friends Brad, Cecilia (freshly arrived from Sweden) prepped for an afternoon of wedded bliss.

Above: Annaelle working away in the kitchen, putting together her delicious French 75s - or rather, MY delicious French 75 :)

Below: Me with my friend Natalie, taking a break in the sun...









The bliss began at the Parc Monceau, where Yann and I had agreed to meet - for the first time since the day before - on the bridge to exchange vows. Just the two of us...and some friends who joined to take photos :)

























It was quiet, it was beautiful and above all, it was very meaningful. Tears were shed (ahem, just a few due to not wanting to mess up the 1) stricken eye 2) makeup) and of course, heartfelt things were said and then we were off to Mairie du 9ème for the marriage ceremony with friends and family.












At City Hall, Yann and I were met by friends and family. It was a lovely, relaxing time. We were able to take a few photos and visit with (mostly) everyone. As we entered City Hall and the very royally decorated 'salle', we sat in anticipation. Nervous smiles, sweaty palms, very welcome bursts of laughter.

And finally, the arrival of the Mayor himself.

As a sidenote, we were blessed to have the actual mayor marry us as it is usually a civil servant who is sent to carry out marriages. And what a wonderful job the Mayor of the 9th did. Citing quotes from American writer, Paul Auster, and doing well to incorporate our personalities into the ceremony. It was an emotional and very moving ceremony.




Yann and I said 'I do' - well, he said 'Oui!' and I said a very lively 'YES!' in front of our friends and family, and our witnesses, Eric, Guillaume and Annaelle.

Following the exchange of rings and I do's, all of those invited to the ceremony were also invited to join in what is called the Vin d'Honneur. This is a relaxed cocktail hour with appetizers and champagne.

We toasted together and spent a nice time visited with all of those invited to share in our special moment.

Above: My Dad with Carole and Annelle - of course he finds the pretty girls!

The evening continued with roughly 20 of our friends and family at the Laparousse - one of the oldest restaurants in Paris. Located along the Seine, the scene was warm and inviting, and the people around us made it so. It was a little envelope of love and support.What was probably the most touching moment of the evening were the speeches given. Yann stood up and (in english!) gave a toast to all for joining us, and to my mom. My mom was so missed. And I know she would have so loved to have celebrated with us, to have been with me this day. I know she was there in spirit - she was. But I wanted more.

My dad then gave a speech - toasted Yann and I and recalled funny stories from my childhood (how lovely!) and also spoke about what my mom had said about Yann. How she expected 'this day' to come and how she welcomed it with open arms.

There was not a dry eye in that room.

Yann and I finished the evening by dancing to 'At Last' - selected by yours truly :) What other song can summarize our relationship?

And so, it was, that 'At Last' Yann Genton married Kelly Roberts and what a day it was...pink eye and all.

On Stolen Seasons

There is a scene in Shakespeare in Love (one of my favorites) where Gwyneth, ahem, I mean Viola, says to Will Shakespeare "This is not life Will, this is but a stolen season."

That phrase has been on my mind lately as wedding preparations are made, family arrives in town and celebrations take place. These are joyous, life-bubbling moments that I so wish we could keep in a little glass jar and open on those dreary, not-so-fun days. They can be rare, but boy oh boy are they great reminders that our lives matter and that there is something bigger that us at play here.

Last night was also one of those moments. Mr. Yann took me out to a lovely dinner at a place named KONG, a rather hip restaurant known for its cocktails, I mean, its glass domed roof that shares an amazing view of the Pont Neuf, the river and the lights of Paris. After dinner, Yann asked if I'd like to take a walk (verrrry unusual behavior). Of course I said 'oui!' so we stroled across the Pont Neuf bridge to the left bank and found ourselves in a little square called the Place Dauphine.

Even at almost 11PM, there were groups of older men playing Petanque in the square under the glowing street lamps. The restaurants folded into the outside of the sqaure were quieting down a bit. Just a little giggle here or the sound of a fork on a plate there. And the air was warm.

It was there, on a bench in the square that Mr. Yann proposed to me. (Wait, wait, what? Didn't he already propose? Aren't you getting married like, tomorrow? You may ask.) What can I say, we're doing things backwards over here.

It was sweet and sincere and it the moment was perfect. Now if only I could find a little glass jar to capture that moment for a rainy day.

But I know that there will be more moments to come...tomorrow :)