JACKIE O' IT!

AND LOOK GREAT DOING IT!

C'EST LA VIE

Class was canceled today. At 8:54am. It's due to start at 9am. Welcome to France, I thought. 

For all of 45 seconds after learning the news from an outraged classmate (via the email that we all received… IN CLASS), I decided to join the chorus of complaints. The medley went something like this: “these classes are wildly pricey”, “yeah, and we’ve already had both of our days off this term – we now can’t make these classes up”, “it’s early! We could have slept in!”, “they could have sent a substitute!, “I need these classes for my visa test!” etc etc. 

Then, after I had had my fill of negativity, I made an about face and went out to bike home. And to change my outlook. This day would be a gift for me. I’ll write, study, wash clothes, look for a job, see a friend for lunch, and remember why I’m here… in beautiful, albeit moody lately — with all the endless clouds — Paris! 

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FINGER POINTS AND FINGER PAINTINGS

Friday night was a storm. I made Simon and me dinner. No plan in place, I did what my mother used to do best for us as kids… refrigerator odds and ends. “Let's see… we have… green peas, pomme de terre, parsley, pine nuts, and citron! Voilà!” Random, but incroyable!

On Saturday, we were both happy to be getting out of the city for a bike ride in open space, and sunshine.  That morning, we were EN ROUTE to Auvers-sur-Oise. A small town where Vincent Van Gogh spent his final 70 days of life and painted his final 74 paintings in that time. Tell me you just did the math?!!! That's an average of a little over one painting per day! And let’s be real. Not just paintings, actual, masterpieces! 

Before we arrived at this precious village, we boarded the train with our bikes. The conductor came over to scan our tickets in hand. We had not “time stamped” our tickets, because we never take that particular line and therefore weren’t fully aware of the rules. In my opinion it’s a ridiculous rule. Simon handed over the tickets, tried to plead with the officer for forgiveness, and then was charged – 100€ on the spot. I could have looked through that woman who was demanding payment. I was so turned off. This country! I mean… Get. It. To.Geth.Er! There are more important things than charging a man who has already bought a ticket – because he didn’t follow the additional RIDICULOUS rule to time stamp it! (note to self – when traveling in France on the metro, train, bus etc… always always always look for the hidden machine to timestamp your ticket. I think they purposefully don’t make these obvious to find so they can charge you an absurd amount. So now you know – keep your eyes PEELED!) 

With a tandem eye roll as she walked on to take someone else’s money – Simon said… “so, you’re inviting me to lunch now, right?” “Oui! Avec plaisir!” – Full chicken, greasy potatoes, and beers.. On me at Le Coin des Peintres.

The town was gorgeous and quaint and exactly what I wanted that day – French countryside. Simon used his right pointer finger (his position all the livelong day – pictured below for reference) to guide me along the beauty. He wouldn’t say a word.. Just throw up a point. Signaling me to take a look. He didn’t want me to miss what his eyes were feasting on.

We took the path beside the river after the train station to reach the town. We strolled through the Église Notre-Dame-de-l'Assomption, went to the cemetery to find Van Gogh and his brother’s graves. We had a bet going on who could find them first. Simon won. And we saw three chevreuil (bambi) galloping across the greenest of green fields. That was the most incredible moment of the whole day if you ask me. I didn’t snap a photo because it was a fleeting moment and I didn't want to miss it. Their white tails were visible as they ran in sync with the other. It was magic.

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YOU’VE CROSSED THE LINE!

The French aren’t known for politeness or courteousness to outsiders – but hell, after I lived this situation below – I realized, they can’t even stand each other!

Two days ago I was waiting at a light beside a fellow biker, EN ROUTE to school, when all of a sudden a symphony of horns started to blow. I wish I was referring to brass horns … alas these were the loud, obnoxious, always constant here in the city horn blowing from crazy scooter drivers. One in particular was leading the pack. He was three lanes away from me and my fellow rider, who had only the tip of our front wheels on the white line that divided the bike lane from the car lane. This outraged man pointed his finger at us with such judgment and furry while simultaneously blowing his horn and telling us to “back up!”

If you missed the bit above… let me crank up the volume as I repeat … He was THREE LANES AWAY FROM US. Our proximity to the white line and the traffic flow literally wasn’t affecting him at all. Yet, I thought.. He can’t help it. He’s French. He needs to find something wrong with someone else and be grumpy in situations like these. If only just for the sake of defending their sharp-shrewd image. He defended it alright!

I laughed out loud as he passed. The situation tickled me so much – that he was letting that ruin his morning. It was 8:30 am. I’m sure his day was long! 

My laughter was contagious – thank god – because sometimes even the Frenchmen who are being yelled at get offended if you take up for them. Grump on grump. Thankfully, this time was different. By the time the light had turned green for us, and four more bikers had lined up beside us, we all were howling at this man's rage — for nothing. 

I was proven wrong. Not all Frenchmen are ready to blast furry. Some just need a nudge to laugh off their fellow grumpy citizens with a stranger who gives full permission. That would be, moi!

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JACKIE O’ THAT SHIT

My friends and I, in Charleston, used to say to Jackie O that shit – When we were facing a situation where people around us were falling from grace and hurting our feelings on purpose. But not in clear-site per se… usually with just verbal papercuts. You know what these are.. Come on! The things that hurt when people say it, but no one is quite sure it was on purpose because the person who said it has disguised the meanness with a smile or friendly tone? Yep, those! Those are what I call verbal papercuts. Not big enough to scream about, but still burn like hell.

Just Jackie O it!

Sit up nice and tall, look beautiful, and have poise and elegance – Just as Jackie Onassis did while Kennedy embarrassed her character left and right, made a mockery of their marriage etc. She could have easily shown her sadness, upset, humiliation. Instead? She Jackie O’ed it and continued to look like a million bucks in addition to staying that magnetic energy in the room that everyone was drawn to.

Sometimes people here blurt things out with strong tones behind them at the perfectly wrong time. I find it funny sometimes... And sometimes… I frankly just know crazy when I hear it!

If I wasn't the passive, kind, afraid-to-hurt-anyone’s-feelings-person who had been raised in the south with manners (albeit, “manners” in the South are really code for. You hush while others insult you, so you “look nice”) – I would blurt back  “what makes you so insecure that you want to cut other people down?”  

Yet I can’t say that. I’m the misfit. So I don’t. I just Jackie O’ That Shit!

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A NEW DAY

I met Seldon, my friend, who I knew when we both lived in NYC, on Tuesday at Buvette for lunch. Ironically, as I shared with her what I am going through in this new city of mine — all the unwanted challenges and (sigh) sadness it has brought me lately. And all the Jackie O’ing I’m doing. She told me that she had had the EXACT conversation that I was having with her 5 years earlier at this EXACT restaurant with these (as she pointed to two ladies opposite us) EXACT same people. Yep! The two women sitting across from us were from Berlin, and Seldon said that she hadn't seen them SINCE that time 5 years earlier, when she was going through what I was going through now. She had come to this restaurant, sat at this bar for lunch, cried, and started sharing her story with these (at the time) random two women from Berlin. CAN. YOU. HANDLE that they were there?! Synchronicity!

When I left, we said farewell to Ana – the owner – who has also become a dear friend of Seldon’s due to that one vulnerable day that Seldon had in her restaurant with these other two ladies. We shared with Ana how I was dealing with the SAME personal scenario that Seldon had dealt with those years previous. And all Ana said was… “Well good news! Look at Seldon. Since that day here – her life has gotten miraculously better. Only good is coming for you, madame!” It gave me chills and hope and excitement. It reminded me that I am the captain of my ship. Ana texted Seldon this picture of us a day later.. saying that she couldn’t resist snapping it because we looked so cute in our matching hats!! A memorable moment.

Bottom line. I can Jackie O anything … but I can also choose to look like Jackie O while I Nelson Mendela that shit — and set myself free!

After this heavy day. My friend Elise (ya’ll remember her from an Oct EN ROUTE) sent me a voicetext of encouragement and support – followed by a picture of pancakes. “Make sure you eat these at some point this week!” 

I don’t know why she sent that. She and I have never eaten these together, it’s not an inside joke… It’s nothing. And yet would you guess it? THAT night. Miranda, who I had lunch plans with the following day, suggested we go to Coutume Cafe. When I google mapped it, the first image that popped up? PANCAKES. Flow.

Now, someone… pass me the maple syrup! 

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AM I ALLERGIC TO FRANCE?

Forereal though – I itch all the livelong day. I didn’t in the US. I didn’t this past summer in Italy. My itches started in Paris. Yes… ok ok… They launched by way of ummmm dare I remind us all? My bed bugs circa May 2023. But every day, at some point, I go bananas with the itching. What is it??! Maybe my feeling of misfit-ism is coming out in hives?! Could that really be true?!

I haven’t felt super in love with Paris lately as I mentioned previously. So, I have decided to change a few things and make a real effort to remember the “why” in the “why I moved here” in the first place.

I wanted a challenge. Check! This has been the biggest challenge of my life so far – being away from everything that is familiar including, but not limited to, the food, the touching, the humor, the culture, the norms, the conversations, the … most everything.

I wanted to live a dream. Another check! This too has been the biggest dream of my life! I have been exposed to such incredible landscapes, people, seasides, restaurants, you name it!

I wanted love, to eat all the good food, to see new sites, … check check check!

(Short story — One of my friends passed away a little over a year ago. It was such a shocking and unexpected situation. She was healthy and alive one day – and then in a quick two day flash she had caught the flu, was hospitalized, caught sepsis there (a very unlikely scenario), and died in the hospital no less than a day after her diagnosis. (An even crazier part to all of this is that the night before I woke up to a text that she had passed. She had been in my dream. Connection!) When she died, I read her obituary and decided to write my own. There and then I made a vow. I wanted to challenge myself to live up to my greatness that someday others would read about me. It was an incredible exercise that I highly recommend.

I wasn’t happy in Charleston at the time. I mean, I was happy enough – living close to family and the beach, biking to work, wearing sophisticated clothes, strategizing with my colleagues, loving my team members, adoring my apartment, my dear friends, my many Salons that I hosted, the clubs I started, and my sweet puppy, Goldie Hawn – but I wasn’t being challenged. I wasn’t falling in love, I wasn’t seeing a future there, I wasn’t really seeing a lot of my family for that matter — there really didn’t seem to be a reason I needed to stay there. I was actually feeling trapped in a mundane life that I didn’t want as a single person.

So… while I was free-writing my obituary – I wrote that I had lived in France (What?! Where did that come from? It was WAY before I had booked my trip over for the summer), I had learned the French language at the age of 37 (I mean.. Still a working progress but I did start at 37), I had seen Africa and the land that we all came from (still incomplete – but rest assured. It’s going to happen.), I had traveled freely without problems and had true friends all over the world, I was a mama, I was loved by many - especially my partner who I had a family with, I had lived an incredible life full of adventure and curiosity. It went on and on… but basically.. I vowed to live up to that! Everyday! )

But with all I mentioned above that this country has provided me.. I also wanted to feel freedom. And with the unwanted nasty challenges I have faced lately, I have decided to be open to all opportunities moving forward. My mother has reminded me that I only took the visa for a year. That doesn't mean that I’m not going to stay for another decade plus. I mean… the city and country does shine in a way for me that America wasn’t when I left her. But it does mean that my mama raised a healthy bird. And she’s reminding me to give myself permission, that if this healthy bird wants to fly. She can. Because healthy birds don’t get trapped. They don’t dim their lights for anyone. They don’t have clipped wings – they fly to feed themselves. 

I have taken these past four months in – learning and molding (a lot!) to this new culture of mine. I have decided that I will take these next 7ish months to figure out what’s next. I am stopping my French lessons next month. I have LOVED them! AND I need a break. Although, I do plan to continue studying and speaking regularly. I want to focus on finding a job – meeting people, being open to international opportunities, and being in love with life.

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This EN ROUTE hasn’t been an uplifting one but – c'est la vie. Sometimes some weeks just aren’t. But I will say. The one thing I haven’t stopped doing, as you all can guess – is laughing. So to leave you this week. You’re welcome — I am giving you this ABSURD video that I received by way of my godson’s silly mom.

But… Before you press play — Consider this your WARNING. DO NOT watch this at work. As, it is highly likely to cause an eruption of high volume laughter and knee slaps that will 100%, without a doubt, draw attention, and may even invite a crowd that, you can trust me on this one, you don’t want knowing you’re watching this garbage. Watch at your own risk. 

PLAY HERE

Xxo ac