NEW DAYS
... with NOUVELLES BONNES ODEURS
I could not feel more excited! Something was in the air this morning. I don’t know what it was – but it felt like NEW!
This past week has been packed with plans – friends in town, friends here in Paris (who I randomly ran into), friend phonedates, business calls, tax attorney calls (good news… I’m getting $ back from Uncle Sam! When does that ever happen? Feels like I’ve won the lottery!), doctor appointment, friend dinners, and finally, meeting new people who have made big impressions. Here goes…
A DAY OF YIELDS - THAT LED to GREENLIGHTS
Monday started out late.
The night before, I had had a late afternoon run-in, on the Île, with David (my friend (to jog your memories) who I met by way of my NYC friend, Andrew. David had designed Andrew’s new apartment and when Andrew found out I would be living on Île Saint Louis a year ago – he made the introduction. So happy he did! David and I have officially fallen in love. I am so lucky to have him here — a close (dare I say bestie) friend only a block away!). We talked for a while. I was feeling very emotional on Sunday – c’est normal when you’re living abroad. Sometimes you just feel, well - extra. I tell myself that anyway. And after David and I hugged goodbye, I received an impromptu call from another NYC love affair — Fiona. All roads that day led back to NYC.
Fiona is one of my friends who always has me wishing that I had a pen and notepad close-by when we talk. She makes sense of the world in a way that feels like we should all just get it. And understand how simple it can be. When she starts on one of her explanations - I’m like hold up… Let me press record! Or at least memorize what you’re saying. We laughed a lot too on the call. It was my cherry on top of my bluesy Sundae, Sunday.
After our lengthy convo, and my final sip of my nightly demi bière, I went home to post my last year’s memories on Instagram. Come to think of it! Maybe this was why I was having an emotional day. Flooded with all that had happened over my past 11 months in France. Good, bad, and the ugly. (Of course, not really the ugly. I think that’s Instagram 101 right?! Never post the ugly pics ;)). So much has changed in my life over these months and so much is about to change - I can feel it! I wanted to bookmark all the months spent so that I can reference memories and look back often on this incredibly beautiful, yet challenging, and enjoyable year of GROWTH.
When Monday came, I woke with this feeling of NEW! I was ready to get out of the house and seize the day. I knew this would be the last day before work calls began on Tuesday. (Eeeek, I still can’t believe I get to work remote and live here. Pinch me!) When I would therefore have the veil lifted on what my next project would be and how many hours it would take away from my strolling my beautiful Parisian streets time. So, I decided to set out and roam.
As I made my way down the 1000 flights of stairs in my new gorgeous (no elevator) building, I ran into our concierge, Lou. She was holding a broom in one hand, while the other helped her describe everything she was talking about. She is one of those people who can’t seem to remember her words without using her hands. I loved her instantly. She and I carried on a conversation (in French) for over 20 minutes. She even walked me down to show me where the trash and recycling goes. I had clearly already discovered that as any person who’s cleaning habits have been refereed to as “maniac” would! – But, I let her show me anyway. I miss having older women in my life daily – and I could tell she was taking so much pleasure in taking care of me / teaching me something new – so I let her. With pleasure!
We waved goodbye as I sought out for my craving. A picnic lunch on the Seine with my book, the tuna sandwich from Tour d’Argent and a coffee. When I arrived at the bakery a woman was in front of me considering what to take. It was during that long pause that I spotted the LAST tuna sandwich behind the glass. I started praying that she didn’t order it. Then I heard her utter… “Je prends un jambon et du beurre.” Woo. That was close! I’m in the clear. Greenlight! Yet JUST as I was relaxed, and this woman was taking her sweet time to get her money out to pay for her ham and butter sammie, another baker came from the kitchen to ask the cashier what he would like for lunch. The cashier took a pause, looked at the case, and then shrugged “Je m'en fiche. Peut-être le thon?” (I don't care - maybe the tuna?). Mais non!!!!!!! And just like that the last sandwich was taken out of the case and my lunch plans were broken. my heart as well.
When I reached the front of the line I ordered a tuna sandwich (pretending not to notice what had just taken place) and a cappuccino. Just KNOWING that he would go get the one that had just been wrapped up for him not 20 seconds prior and sell it to me. (As an American would. I mean. Everything's for sale in America.) Mais, non. He didn’t even consider it. He apologized and said that they had sold out. Sad in the moment but happy by late afternoon – as this yield moment made me take a different direction in my day, and led me to a greenlight!
I took my cappuccino and took a long walk about until I found myself in Saint Germain des Prés. Since there, I made a pit-stop at Le Labo for my signature scent, Santal 3, and a butchered French conversation.
[Sidebar – my friends all over the world will text me when they smell this sent — “are you on the A train?,” in NYC, “did you just leave Posada?,” in Mexico, “Were you just in the Earth Fair?,” in Charleston, “Someone around me smells exactly like you!,” in everywhere. In fact I must share this sweet story. Some 10ish years ago, I went to visit my sister and her family. Boggs jr was all of 3 years old - maybe younger. He was playing upstairs and didn’t hear me come in. I went into the guestroom to hide so that he could find me, and as he ran down the stairs he started yelling in that delicious baby voice “She’s here! She’s here! I smell her!” – signature scent. Boodle!]
At Le Labo you name your perfume, or you write a message, or put your name on it etc. So, one time, one of my best friends, Marissa, who flies in town for Fashion Week on MONDAY (losing my mind with excitement), bought me a bottle for my birthday. At the time, she was working for Barney’s (RIP) which sold my perfume. As to not to ring an alarm that she was using her employee discount for a friend, she decided against putting my name on the bottle, and instead, in the empty space For: XXX… she had them write “Good Smells.” We cackled at this! And from that day forward it has been the name on my (umpteen bottles of Santal 33). I LOVED it. (Marissa is also a renowned editor. So, wherever she says goes in my book. (unintended pun)).
Since our whole conversation in the perfume shop had been in French – we decided so would my Good Smells. My new perfume goes by the name of For: De Bonnes Odeurs.
Hilarious! Sounds terrible. Usually French words hit home-runs with their elegant tone and pronunciation. Alas, smells and odor? No competition. English takes the cake for this word! Mais, c'est la vie. J’adore mes nouvelles bonnes odeurs!
En route back home I decided to rip the bandaid and go back to one of my favorite lunch, people watching, wine sipping, places: La Palette. Remember? The last time I went there the waiter tucked his number on the receipt. I have been avoiding the restaurant ever since, but craving their homemade salmon rillette. Therefore, today would be the day. Band Aid being ripped! Fortunately it was that waiters day off. OR else he was hiding - because I didn’t see him, OR he had given out his number to too many women and was shown the door by management - not to return. Je ne sais pas. Either way. I was happy. Because I can go there again without hesitation. I ate in peace until another man entered. Chris. He didn’t give me his number, as the waiter had, but he did share the best story…
We ate in silence, and then as I was gathering my things to go, the man who I was practically sharing a table with we were seated so close piped up. He said, in English, “Goodbye. Have a great day!” “You speak English”, I asked? “You spoke perfect French with the waitress.” I took my seat again as he shared his incredible story. He and his wife had lived in Paris for nearly 20 years right out of college from the States. After their time here, they decided to go make money (he laughed as he said this and followed with “you won’t make real money here in France”) and moved to Sweden. Now, they are on holiday in Paris (considering relocating again, at least part of the year) for about a month. They return in a few weeks to Canada where they, after Sweden, moved their family some 10+ years ago so that their boys would have that North American experience.
And speaking of boys… I had noticed that he was analyzing a document in English as we ate… turns out that document was his oldest boy’s business school homework that he was helping review before he turned it in. Precious! We had the loveliest conversation and before I left, he said. “I have words of advice for you too! #1: it’s UNE carafe d'eau. You said UN carafe d’eau. You need to pay attention to the masculine and feminine in this language. And #2: Keep doing what you’re doing! Speak as much French as possible. Just like you did – Everytime the waitress answers you in English, you continue to persist in French. Keep that up!” Greenlight of an afternoon.
I even spotted a heart shaped water stain on the ground. Like Mel Robbins, I see hearts EVERYWHERE! All of this wouldn’t have happened had Lou not spoken to me. She kept me occupied and late for my sandwich, which caused me to stroll the city and buy perfume, and then meet a very kind encouraging person at lunch. It was the best!
The next morning started in Place des Vosges – simply my favorite square of all time. Sun was out – puppies were playing in the unmonitored fountains, and old people were glued in watching the babies run around and play. BEST morning! And…. best evening! I met my friend Laura (from Charleston) there for a stroll before we dinned at Chez Janou and caught up for 4.5 hours over the yummiest food!
Earlier this week I took myself on a trip down memory lane – an author speaking engagement. (It reminded me of the events I used to produce at the Charleston Library Society only a few moons ago.) When I arrived at the Red Wheelbarrow Bookshop (10 mins early, I might add) it was packed! This is not the French mentality I thought. To be early. They are usually 10 minutes late. Then I remembered. Oh yes, this is an American event. We early!
As I was searching for where I would perch – I mean, I had to sit! I had worn my Carel patten leather shoes that night – breaking them in. And eh, not my best decision – I heard “AC!” I looked down to find Leah and Kate smiling under me. New friends were there too unbeknownst to me. Paris is getting smaller (finally).
After the I’m Mostly Just Here to Enjoy Myself event, we gabbed with the author, and I introduced myself to her interlocutor for the evening (and Grad School friends with another of my Paris friends, Elizabeth, who couldn’t attend that night), Lindsey Tramuta. We have since DMed and think there’s a budding friendship in the works!
Leah, Kate and I got dinner after and laughed and talked for hours until we all made our way to the metro… where I delivered them to catch their train and then I locked in to that beautiful FULL glowing moon that night, as I walked my shiny shoes home.
SPEAKING OF SMALL WORLDS
When I posted pictures of my time with friends in Charleston and Conway the other night, I immediately received a message from an old American Express colleague and friend, Adam. “Holy cow AC, Kirby went to my high school in Chattanooga! Such a tiny tiny world! Good people find good people!” He’s right and I’m so lucky that I’m a good enough to find all of my GOOD PEOPEL!
Kirby was a friend who I met back in NYC. We partied together in Amagansett for a few summers and then years later Kirby moved to Charleston. We reunited when we spotted one another at an event. She and her husband, Hardwick, are two of my favorite people in the Holy City! Made my heart full to know that my two very different (work / play) lives overlapped in such a special way.
Then…
Ben, who I have lost touch with, but too recently texted me about a post with his friends sent me a message when he saw Laura’s story… “YOU’RE HANGING WITH LAURA?!!” Gave me chills. How in the WORLD do they know one another? Still unsure (West Coast time and Paris time aren’t really synched with a lot of overlapping daylight hours – so, still waiting for his response).
Alas, it’s all to say that the more places I live, and the more people I am privileged to meet, the smaller my world becomes.
Adam is right… “Good people find more Good people!” SO… Bring them on!
DATES
This week I have been able to see David for an intended “short” dinner, that turned (naturally, as it does with us) into an “extra long” (4hr) dinner. What? We had a lot to celebrate. His achievements (too many to count at the moment) and my new job.
I had a zoom date with my new lead for a work project (who I am completely obsessed with. I called her “mama” at one point. Then immediately apologized. She said “... don’t worry about it. I love it!” I shared that in the last role I had … my boss, who loved me dearly, (half jokingly) told me “AC you’re HR’s biggest nightmare. I know you love the team and are affectionate, but you must stop calling our members and the younger staff ‘mamas’ and ‘papas’.” HA!!)
Last Friday I got to lock lips with Margaux. My 1.5 year old date on most weekends lately. And she loved it! Her parent’s think it’s a riot that because I’m a “safe looking woman” — I get away (mostly) with kissing babies on the mouths (I mean. Not just babies you know? My sweet 10 year niece is subject to these ac smooches frequently!) and not looking like a creep. We walked hand and hand home.
And just yesterday, I had my first doctor's appointment for a routine check up in France. And I’m here to tell you – I am obsessed with her!
I decided to take a page from my friend’s book who recently was searching for the “right school.” He said that he called each one of the top-3 schools he selected to speak first with the secretaries. He then said that he stopped by them each to get a feel for the space and the vibe of the professors. Then, after all this intel, he made his decision. I didn’t call or go visit in advance – but I did take my list down to three doctors based on my gut feeling. And as sometimes it happens – the first one is all you need. I knew from the second I walked in that Dr. Hervé was the one I wanted. My French Dolly Parton.
Truly though, maybe not as over the top as my fairy godmother. But, Dr. Hervé was the most gentle, non-judgemental, encouraging, patient, stylish, blond-bombshell of a doctor. And provided me with SO MUCH information. I felt inspired instantly. AND loved her secretary — who didn’t speak any English but spoke laughter. She giggled the entire time with me. What?! A French lady who I can amuse? Where has she been all my life?! NO French woman thinks I’m funny!!
And just like that … after the cackles… they got a new client! C’est moi!
This coming week will bring a lot more JOY. I get to see Marissa and hopefully Lori for Fashion Week. I am holding my breath that I hear back from the French Government (this not hearing-anything-stress is real. Why do all Governments do this to people? Just tell us! Did we make the cut or not? Do you need more information or not? TELL US!!!! So that we can relax and make plans). I will be starting a new work project. Eeep!!! Working! I love this J O B. Feeling grateful beyond belief! And many more surpise appearances I’m sure with new fiends.
Until then..
Xxo ac
