The weeks following your worst days, inevitability at least for me, are always some of the best....the ones filled with the most life. I suppose it could be this or the 1) minute amount of work and the excess of dinner parties and delicious hot chocolate 2) christmas shopping with german gluhwein (hot wine) in tow, 3)traveling 4)dating and of course my all time favorite pastime 5)dancing. Hmmm, I guess I will guess it is the latter bundle. So following a shit weekend, the past week has been one of the best so far, making it difficult to part with my newly beloved Paris...yet another city to express my love-hate relationship patterns with. But this use of extremity is fitting, as I remind you that their keyboards require the shift for periods and nothing for the EXCLAMATION. Telling, I say. So, recapturing the past week:
First up: Mon Date Avec Monsieur Falafel
Falafel, you ask? Mais, Ouais! KK was so kind to accompany me for my first drink with M. Falafel as to assure me that this one wasn't giving serial killer vibes or just plain crayzay-ness. After her more than approving, we parted ways and started gallivanting around the streets of the Marais (apparently we picked a bar where the men liked MF way more than KK et moi), we enjoyed one another as much as one can without understanding what the hell the other person is saying. Although, in some mysterious and fun way it just added to the fun, hilarity, and inventiveness of how to get to know each other. He did unknowingly teach me a few new words that would never come up in any other situation...But, about an hour of laughing et petites (peut etre plus) bises later, it was quite the fun night. (I am counting on my parents inability to use Google translate here.) And after his attempts to impress me with the few English words in his vocabulary, comme “Christmas”[krees-must] avec une petite foreign lisp, we parted ways, smiling all the way home...at least on my end. God, did anyone ever tell you this city is tressss romantic? A few days later, as I was being drilled by my roommates and their friends, about his looks, personality, etc, the question of intelligence made its way into conversation. To which, I attempted to answer in French, “How the hell do I know...I have no idea whether he is speaking to me in French or Hebrew half the time!”Yeah, I'm sure that didn't translate either. Anywho, its fun, harmless, and of course in my true fashion....so not serious.
Ensuite: Best Day Ever
Usually most “best days ever” include the use of the many senses and this is precisely what this day exploited. One of the greatest things about Paris is this, and its way of doing it to the extreme. Without work or obnoxious children, which is reason enough for me to smile, KK and I hit the town, with little else on the menu other than Christmas shopping, a good meal (or two), and even better chocolat chaud. We took Paris in, exploring the best epiceries, sampling with our eyes an taste-buds all this gastronomic city has to offer. We complained on and on about our weekends, letting all our hostility out, making room for nothing but pure goodness. So we continue, with hot chocolate that is not only presented as art, but tasting pretty darn amazing as well. And like everything in Paris, complete with a price tag that doesn't let you forget it. One of our stops was Gallerie Gourmet, the food component to the famous department store Gallerie Lafayette, housing every type of extravagant food indulgence from hand selected spices displayed in luxurious glass vials to fois gras sets and my favorite, magnificent looking chinese dumplings. I just couldn't resist, and although I knew well knowingly they could never be exist in the same realm as Dumpling Man (holler back), they offered a nice break from the norm. But after my taste testing, I will leave dumplings to, well, anyone else except Parisians. Even Chinese Parisians. Next is the Marais, our favorite spot for chocolate, falafel and their good looking men, and perfumes. After a few hours of contemplating what our family and friends would like to open on Christmas or the 8th night of Hanukah, we were yet again lured into our favorite perfumery. Whether its Schmoopie et moi a New York or KK a Paris, there is a place that good perfume takes you that is parallel to few other indulgences. Their dimly lit, cove-like ambiance makes one feel instantaneously cosy upon entering and the endless choices of fragrant destinations doesn't hurt either. The combinations, we have been testing for quite some months, and after trying to match each others personality to the appropriate combination, we both decided on “Chasse des Papillions” (Hunt of the Butterflies) to sport for the rest of the day. ( I would later buy and be complemented on the scent by one french teenager and one hot German dude) It was after smelling our wrists continuously for the next hours and while sipping hot chocolate, yet again, that it is these “material things” (whether art, dress , or scent) that helps you create your own perfect world as you see it. We couldn't stop smiling from ear to ear for the rest of the day. And after hitting one last vintage shop and avoiding falafel man as not to appear too crazy, we made our lasts stops, as most Parisians do, at the local boulangerie and fruit/veggie market to collect the last components for our wondrous day. The best bread in the world, other than Judy Stein's challah and NYC bagels, we stir fried veggies, poured some wine, and swapped great music back and forth over petits cigars. I cant remember what was for dessert, but it just added to everything great. Our senses were overloaded and nothing too crazy occurred; we just relished the company, laughter, and the help of constructing our own perfect, cozy worlds. KK took of at about 1130, but I think we both continued smiling the rest of the week.
To end this great week, things only got better over yet another fabulous dinner party de Carole and one crazy trip to Germany. But please, thats for next time. Get some sleep.