Friday, December 2

Revenir

Well the flu inside me rages on, but I am not thinking of the horrid cough I'm coughing, or the drippy nose that's running - I am thinking solely of Paris.

Tomorrow - I will be in Paris.

PARIS!!!!!

Holy jam roly poly I am so excited! I may pass out from happiness when I actually step off the train and am back in the land of croissants. And something tells me that once my body realizes it is back where it belongs, my flu will evaporate into the fresh-baked-baguette air and I will feel better than I've felt in a long time.

I have un secret to share with vous, that may make you think I am even more of a nutter butter than you already have realized I am. Let's just say - you were warned.
In my wallet, there is a little metro stub from my last day in Paris. I have kept it, crinkled and wrinkled in a small pocket until the day I returned to Paris again, and could replace it with a shiny new one. It was my own little momento, my daily reminder, my vieux carnet - that just for a second of everyday, took me back to life in the city of lights.

If you have chosen to stop reading and dial the nearest insane asylum, I don't blame you.

But if you get Paris - then you probably have one in your wallet too.

So, I am spending my evening plotting my weekend of magnifique-ness and practicing my mon francais, bien sur.

My raspy voice that is the product of this flu actually makes my French sound en peu more authentic. The French "R" which I have been trying to master for 10 years, is coming out much better than it ever has thanks to all the phlegm.

To make things even better, it is supposed to rain tomorrow! You would think this is bad, but you would be wrong. Paris is so wonderful in the rain. It is SO Paris when it's lightly drizzling and you can stroll down the quai with your parapluie and just soak in the scene of the Seine and the ponts and duck into the D'Orsay for shelter. Ooooohh mon dieu! I can hardly sit still.

Here is my to-do list so far:
- Visit my old street and see all my neighborhood friends are still there!
Like the cute, gay baker at Le Gay Choc - the local, gay boulangerie that sold baguettes shaped like well.... you know, and the friendly jeune fille that scooped me countless scoops of glacee at Amarino, our mean neighbor M. Dourard who always scolded us for being American.
It has only been two years, so they should still be there. And just the slightest nod of recognition would melt my little Eiffel-Tower shaped heart like fondue.

- While on my old street, attempt to break into my old apartment. The nostalgia would be worth the possible felony charge.

- Pop into the Musee D'Orsay and get lost among the Van Goghs, Degas, and Monets.

- Locate an outdoor market for the dual purpose of ordering an amazing, fresh made crepe and finding fun trinkets to buy.

- Stroll up and down the Champs Elysee visiting all the shops of the Christmas Market

- Walk the million steps up to Sacre Couer, and trapse through Montmarte.

- Visit my old pal, Opera Garnier, and pop in Galleries Layfayette and Printemps to admire the Christmas decorations.

- Take a Seine boat cruise at sunset to see the lights of Paris from the River.

- Wander into Pierre Herme and secure 20+ macarons to indulge in throughout the day.

and of course.....

- RUN to the Champs de Mars, watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle, and die from happiness.

That's page (1) of (10). I'll continue later. But now, I must get some beauty rest and prepare, because....a demain, la blonde parisienne sera revenir chez elle!

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