As happy and sappy as it sounds--the lead up was a particular version of hard that we of the first world are permitted to call hell.
Let's take it back to the last day in November when Sebastien and I, with the help of our very best friend Brad, played a game of Tetris verse the back of a U-haul moving van.
Let's take it back to the last day in November when Sebastien and I, with the help of our very best friend Brad, played a game of Tetris verse the back of a U-haul moving van.
 |
| Brad and banana boxes, really couldn't have done it without ya. |
The three of us went to sleep on the floor of our apartment once the game was over around 5 Am. Brad left for work around 8, we said our final good byes to him and Seba and I went to unload the van in a storage facility. That was really fun because everything on our bodies hurt! Once our 5 by 15 space was fuller than the Lestrange vault, we decided it was time to go to the airport. Auspiciously, there was a parking lot full of taxi cabs at our disposal. We found an on-duty dude who spoke French--a small something I interoperated it as a good sign. Predictably, we encountered park-and-walk traffic, but that clean cab smell had me relaxed. Or perhaps it was the reoccurring muscle spasms that were simply keeping me immobile. On either account, I stared fixedly out the window at the Beltway and focused on important things, like why I never feel obligated to fasten my seatbelt in a cab...
Well, anyway--we got to the airport and I dumped out my water bottle in the trash, put everything I planned to own for awhile on a conveyer belt and walked slowly through a gate so that someone coud look at me all naked-like over some scanner and I could simultaneously prove I didn't put bomb parts up my bum. At least that's why I think they make us do that. Whatevs, I was through security, we were good.
Have you ever been sitting on your plane waiting to leave when the attendent says something like, "Is Person Mc Lastname and Other Macotherson on the plane?"
Or, "Will Donner party of five please check in at your gate, the plane is waiting."
When I hear this I'm either outraged or curious--it really depends how tired I am. Anyway, when we got to our gate to get on the plane they had apparently been doing that for us. We were five minutes away from missing our nonrefundable, one way, trans-Atlantic, international flight!
If you know me yet, you know I'm a bit of a spaz when it comes to traveling. Being on time is hardly adequate; having four hours with nothing to do, safely on the other side of security is how I like to roll. So, I'm really glad I read the tickets wrong and had no idea we were cutting it so close, because I would have been forced to murder one of us and I really didn't have the energy.
Other fun things happened. For instance, we met the weight allowances for Lufthansa, the german air carrier we purchased our ticket from, but not Delta, their american partner who would actually be providing our flight. So when we landed in Roissy, we had 5 bags to navigate with instead of the 4 we had planned on, and I ripped my silk stockings.
That was basically the most fun ever.
But really that's where the horror stories stop.
We made it to our hotel and luxuriated in a hot tub, soothing our aches and scrapes and blocking out the Frenchness of the outside world. We walked around that night in a snow encrusted town with all the holiday lights poking through and cheering up the streets. We found a creperie and had galette crepe with eggs and ham, sweet cider and desert crepe with whipped cream and chestnut butter. It's funny because a year ago, on that night, I would have been afraid to make crepe at home, now it's just something I whip together if we're hungry enough.
We spent the next two weeks with the best friend of Sebastien's father and his family while we looked for an apartment in Paris. I saw the seventh Harry Potter film with French subtitles.--which amused me to no end.
I learned so much about French cooking and table service. I tried fine wines and new foods and I got to meet David Sederis at a book signing he was doing at a small book shop. All in the first week!
We found a flat shortly after that with a a balcony, in a cute neighborhood. And then I don't know, here we are, encore !
It's been quite a year. My level of French has jumped from non-verbal, non-comprehending infant to that of a fully formed toddler--one who's cute accent is sometimes intelligible by those who interact with me most. Sebastien and I have developed a sense of humor about our arguing that has helped mitigate or resolve conflicts more quickly. I've learned a lot about the strength of my partner's resolve and have found inspiration in his dedication to making our lives better--e.g getting up for work at seven, even if we've been partying till 5. It's not that I'm not capable of that level of duty and responsibility, it's just that I would be crying the whole time.
Turn your judgey face right off!
That's a job for Judy.
OK?
I'm not joking when I say he sets a good example for the sort of adult I want to be. I love Sebastien and value the time we've put aside in our marriage to explore commitment, the universe and everything else. It's also cool that I can use this blog as a tool to track the progress and watch the way we've both grown and changed. Sure we could be parents and home owners by now--if we had stayed in jobs we weren't happy in just for the money, doing what society expected of us. But instead we've seen more of the world together. We've eaten millions of new chips, experimented with common French meats and animal products in our kitchen here that would be luxury items priced way out of our range back in the States. (And one time, last week, we even cooked Kangaroo steaks.)
After lunch we went for a long walk dans la bois de Boulogne, pictured above at sunset, and from there we walked to The Avenue des Champs-Élysées and took our first stroll around the Village de Noel, sharing a cup of mulled red wine and returning just in time to play a great board game with friends in the kitchen. Milestone unlocked.
I tell ya, the internets, I've tried a bunch of stuff to get happy and stay happy and to be perfectly honest with you, all I've ever really been cut out for [so far] is adventuring. I am grateful that I have partner who is skeptical of all my best ideas enough to help me make them even better. He's also good with map reading, exchange rates and other languages. Bref, without him, team awesome would only really be, team Erin...and that wouldn't be awesome at all. #foreveralone
I guess what I'm saying is, I love someone. He's the Jake to my Finn and it's totally Rhombus.
Have you ever been sitting on your plane waiting to leave when the attendent says something like, "Is Person Mc Lastname and Other Macotherson on the plane?"
Or, "Will Donner party of five please check in at your gate, the plane is waiting."
When I hear this I'm either outraged or curious--it really depends how tired I am. Anyway, when we got to our gate to get on the plane they had apparently been doing that for us. We were five minutes away from missing our nonrefundable, one way, trans-Atlantic, international flight!
If you know me yet, you know I'm a bit of a spaz when it comes to traveling. Being on time is hardly adequate; having four hours with nothing to do, safely on the other side of security is how I like to roll. So, I'm really glad I read the tickets wrong and had no idea we were cutting it so close, because I would have been forced to murder one of us and I really didn't have the energy.
Other fun things happened. For instance, we met the weight allowances for Lufthansa, the german air carrier we purchased our ticket from, but not Delta, their american partner who would actually be providing our flight. So when we landed in Roissy, we had 5 bags to navigate with instead of the 4 we had planned on, and I ripped my silk stockings.
That was basically the most fun ever.
But really that's where the horror stories stop.
We made it to our hotel and luxuriated in a hot tub, soothing our aches and scrapes and blocking out the Frenchness of the outside world. We walked around that night in a snow encrusted town with all the holiday lights poking through and cheering up the streets. We found a creperie and had galette crepe with eggs and ham, sweet cider and desert crepe with whipped cream and chestnut butter. It's funny because a year ago, on that night, I would have been afraid to make crepe at home, now it's just something I whip together if we're hungry enough.
We spent the next two weeks with the best friend of Sebastien's father and his family while we looked for an apartment in Paris. I saw the seventh Harry Potter film with French subtitles.--which amused me to no end.
 |
| Harry left his backpack at the Burrow, giving Ginny full reign to rifle through it and sniff its contents: deleted scenes, disk five. |
We found a flat shortly after that with a a balcony, in a cute neighborhood. And then I don't know, here we are, encore !
It's been quite a year. My level of French has jumped from non-verbal, non-comprehending infant to that of a fully formed toddler--one who's cute accent is sometimes intelligible by those who interact with me most. Sebastien and I have developed a sense of humor about our arguing that has helped mitigate or resolve conflicts more quickly. I've learned a lot about the strength of my partner's resolve and have found inspiration in his dedication to making our lives better--e.g getting up for work at seven, even if we've been partying till 5. It's not that I'm not capable of that level of duty and responsibility, it's just that I would be crying the whole time.
Turn your judgey face right off!
That's a job for Judy.
OK?
So, to commemorate our one year anniversary with France, I hung out on tumblr and Sebastien played a russian remake of the 90's video game, Fantasy General. But that's just because we're humble people.
I tell ya, the internets, I've tried a bunch of stuff to get happy and stay happy and to be perfectly honest with you, all I've ever really been cut out for [so far] is adventuring. I am grateful that I have partner who is skeptical of all my best ideas enough to help me make them even better. He's also good with map reading, exchange rates and other languages. Bref, without him, team awesome would only really be, team Erin...and that wouldn't be awesome at all. #foreveralone
I guess what I'm saying is, I love someone. He's the Jake to my Finn and it's totally Rhombus.
You have read this article #foreveralone /
Adventure time GIF /
bois de Boulogne /
Champs-Élysées /
Fantasy General /
Harry Potter /
Jake and Finn. GIF /
Tetris /
true story /
tumblr /
U-haul /
Тетрис
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