PLAYING HOUSE
MOODS TRANSFERRED THROUGH KISSING, CRAFTING, "ORIGINAL FRIEND" COMFORTS and .... the awaited... VISA NEWS!
America the great!
You guys will NEVER guess what I got this past week!
No, no... not that! The French government still insists on needing (surprise!) more time to make up their mind about me for the Visa. But! They did finally grant me what I’ve been begging for since January — my Attestation de Prolongation (aka, the magical piece of paper that makes me legal again while they come to their conclusion). Yep, after months (going on 11 now) of living in French limbo, I’m officially back on the legal grid… until October that is… when this Extension Certification expires (again).
Mais, who cares! At least now I can fly over to Europe if I want without hesitation and without fear that I will have to speak my very butchered French at customs to explain my way out of trying to smuggle back in illegally. Now, I’m semi-legal once more!
The real kicker though — aside from the whole “I’m now living back in the U.S. and no longer trying to make France love me” thing — is the poetic timing of when I got the news.
Just minutes before learning that the French government finally decided to toss me a baguette breadcrumb, I was in a CPA’s office here in my small hometown, Conway, getting one final tax document to wrap up my 2024 return. Let me set the stage. I walked in at 9:50 a.m. and by 9:56 a.m. I was walking out with exactly what I needed. No paperwork maze, no existential questions, no espresso offered in tiny cups, no noncommittal words like: ‘maybe we can’, ‘we’ll possibly be able to’, ‘I can try’, ‘this potentially could be done’ were used. It was just done. The CPA didn’t even have time to offer me a seat — he simply took my name, heard my request, and then miraculously JUST hit print and handed it to me like it was normal. Which, after this visit, I’m remembering that that is normal in every other place in the world, but France.
Efficiency? In real-time? Without a headache of waiting for no apparent reason AT ALL? I nearly wept.
This country of mine gets a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad rep on, well, most everything lately (I’m looking at you the most Mr. President). But let me tell you — while we may fumble plenty, when it comes to follow-through and timeliness? We nail it. And moments like the one in the CPA’s office remind me exactly why I’m happy to be back and why I struggled so severely with the slow, meandering pace of my former country’s government. I was cut from the cloth of Americans after-all. Impatience is in our DNA (due to rarely experiencing long wait times).
Playing House and Crafting
Since my parents have been away on their vacation to visit Joe’s family in New York, I’ve discovered a whole new love of nesting. In a house that has been all to myself! And let me tell you… until I get one of my own… whew, have I shown my mother’s a good time. I pulled paintings out of retirement (you know, the ones hidden under those guest bedroom beds), rearranged drawers for maximum functionality in her kitchen, bathrooms and laundry room, rolled up rugs that were crowding a space, and did a full-on furniture edit in her craft-room. GOD IT FELT SO GOOD! I had an absolute ball touching all of her beautiful things and remembering just how much I love being in a space that feels like mine.
So, while enthralled by this wave of home-inspo, I not only have been “hearting” every New England cottage in New York and Maine, Southern colonial mansion in South Carolina and Virginia, and prewar classic-six apartment in Manhattan late night on my realtor.com account, I’ve too been ripping pages out of my mom’s world supply of Southern Living magazines with pictures that I love. Yep — I’ve been crafting my vision board in my mom’s newly organized room made especially for this!
And if my vision board is any clue to what I’m summoning into my life this year, it’s shouting: tulip bouquets, sun-warmed bowls of peaches, marbled kitchens surrounded by windows, and a farmhouse nestled in the country with palm trees and a secret flowery dirt path that leads straight to the sea (because of course that architectural anomaly exists — on a vision board. Where all logic gracefully bows out when you create). Zebras graze in my backyard as I look on in an oversized-yet-impeccably-tailored women’s pantsuit, sipping something sparkling. Nearby, a Ralph Lauren–esque family skips through a technicolor veggie garden, baby on hip. And naturally — diamonds. Cascades of them. Preferably on me while I’m cruising down the coast in a vintage convertible, this season’s Prada sunglasses perched on my nose, an Hermès scarf floating behind me like a silk comet — channeling Grace Kelly, obviously, though not in Florida... in my Hamptons house.
Reality is optional at best when you’re “vision boarding.” And lawd does it excite me!
Goldie Hawn Smooches
I honestly can’t remember the last person — or baby — I’ve kissed this much. And that’s saying a lot, especially considering how much time I’ve been spending with Piper (McCall’s 4 year old who doesn’t go for the mouth) and Caria (Rachel’s youngest) who ONLY goes for the mouth — my kind of boodle!) these past two weeks.
But Goldie? I’m obsessed. I can’t stop smooching her. She pulls me in like a moth to a flame — irresistible, snuggly, and somehow always begging me for one more smacker.
A friend in Paris once reminded me of this idea that when you kiss someone (even a boodle) on the mouth, you can absorb their thoughts or memories or attitude. I don’t think this is not true. But wild to think about, no? I remember reading how the author of The Artist’s Way described something similar too — she was walking through the West Village and suddenly felt like someone’s idea jumped right out of them and into her. And just like that, she wrote the book based on that new fresh idea that came to her from nowhere. Now? She's the one living my vision board in real life — dripping in that diamond success with a zebra in her backyard — all from that sublet transfer of thought on the street.
Well... I think Goldie Hawn may have passed something onto me. It’s not exactly an idea per se, but a feeling. A new calm, soft way of seeing the world for me lately! She’s asleep at my feet at this very moment by the way while I’m writing on the porch – my little tethered girl hoping to be woken up by her mama’s smooch!
She isn’t getting better, exactly. Her blood work numbers are improving, yes, but she’s a sick boodle — one who will likely be on IV fluids for the rest of her life. Still, she has a pep in her step lately and an increased appetite, sprinting-energy on our walks (she takes me for walks now. Not the other way around), and sassy side-eyes given to me before rebelliously running off to do something I’ve politely asked her not to — like eating cat poop, digging a hole in the neighbor’s yard, or parking herself stubbornly in the middle of the road when she knows this is cause for a stern “NO MA’AM” and possible zap on her collar. ALL behaviors, however, to be followed by un autre BAISER de moi.
I kiss her when she’s bad, when she’s good, when she’s doing her only job of ummmm being CUTE, and when she is getting her medicine. A full 20 minutes of head smooches after I whisper a little prayer that I got the IV needle in just the right place. I then hold my breath as I watch the fluids flow — pouring if I nailed it, dripping slowly if I didn’t. And when she’s over it and ready to wiggle away, I hold her in place by what else? Smooches. She LOVES them. So actually, now that I’m writing about it. Maybe I’m giving her MY energy transferred through my kiss. And that’s whats got her pep back in her step. Who knows? But there’s something to this k.i.s.s.i.n.g. thing after all …I think.
Visits with some of my favorite “Conway-ites”
I’ve had several sweet moments with several special people since settling in here solo over the past 2 weeks.
Mrs. Sharon, one of my mother’s best friends and mother to one of my first friends, Leslie, invited me over to her stunning home for wine and charcuterie on her sweeping dock along the Waterway. We gabbed for hours and she gave me the kind of life advice that was both deeply faithful and refreshingly practical — a spiritual TED Talk — but with Manchego. A gift of a conversation!
Marybeth, Amy, and Larkin — my childhood next-door neighbors who I adored growing up with and now rarely get to see, since none of us live in the same state, but who happened to be visiting at the exact same time.
My dad and I had one of those perfect porch moments — eating chicken salad sandwiches while watching a group of obvious tourist golfers. The giveaway? They missed every shot (out of practice. Locals wouldn’t dare.), they then would hit their cart with their club (built up travel anger that needed releasing away from their shared family 10x5 hotel room), and the ringer? They were playing in 97 degree heat!!! Dead of the afternoon! All in all, an 11/10 entertainment value from the perfect 14 hole view line directly off of my father’s porch.
A few days later, Goldie Hawn and I scooped him up again for a long, Sunday morning beach walk, followed by breakfast at a restaurant while GH snoozed under the table.
Rachel, one of my and my sister’s best friends, joined me for a walk while sporting her very on-trend weighted vest one morning. Honestly, give this woman a podcast. Because each time I would share something I had on my mind she would ask me “am I here to support or provide solutions?” (If you’re wondering, my answer was always solutions. YES. Solutions please! We figured everything out!)
Then there’s McCall — my from-diapers best friend, who I’ve known my entire life! In fact, we reminisced about the time her grandmother once accidentally took me home from daycare thinking it was Mac, because we looked that much alike as babies. She invited me over to prune in her pool with her adorable trio — Parker (15), Paxton (12), and Piper (4), took not one, but three downtown coffee strolls with GH in tow, and went on a spontaneous joyride to admire houses of our friends way out in the country.
And finally, I hosted a dinner for my “original friends” — Maggie, Scarlett, and Mac. Think great food, full-body laughs, lots of beer, a long boat ride, and that special brand of deep-rooted comfort that only childhood friendships bring. They’re loyal, unfiltered, wildly kind… and, this isn’t always a good thing, but they remember absolutely everything I did between ages 5 and 18. As do I … with them.
It’s been such an upgrade of a week! I’m excited to welcome my parents back in a few days, hear how their trip was, and fill them in on GH all before I head out. I am switching places with them as I’ll catch the first flight out to New York on Friday morning. I can’t wait to plug in and power up before I make decisions on the when, the where, the hows of my path at the moment. I plan to hop about and see some of my dearest people while in the tri-state area! I’m looking at you Sunny! Viv! Fiona! Both of my Eric(k)as! Sarah! Kris! Marissa! Alicia! And on and on and on!!
Until then, I’ll be soaking up this Southern SUN!
xxo ac
This JUST In…
As I was wrapping up this little EN ROUTE this morning, I casually checked my email — and YOU ARE TRULY NEVER GOING TO GUESS. Drumroll, please...
I GOT MY VISA.
Just like that. Out of nowhere. Life is nothing if not ironic. It’s exactly like waiting on your school pictures back in the day — you obsess over the mail every day, then the moment you forget? Boom. There they are.
I’ve been working on trust lately. Trusting the path I’m on. Trusting the decisions I made in my past that have led me here today. Trust that the unknown holds good things. Trusting that what I deeply want — yes, as illustrated by my very specific, highly curated (with Southern Living clippings only because that’s all that existed in my mother’s home to pull from) vision board — will come in due time. And trusting, as Jane, college bestie, has always lovingly reminded me, that I truly can’t f%$# up life.
Getting my French Visa feels like a little wink from the universe — a reminder to let go, let God (as we used to say in church), and keep going. What’s meant for me will find me. And apparently, sometimes it shows up right in my inbox when I’m no longer even searching for it.
Pictured above, circa 2023 — leaving the French Embassy in Atlanta with my very first visa in hand. It was a proud, powerful, happy, hopeful, and truly exhilarating moment. Helped that I was dressed to the nines! All before the journey truly began. Before I left behind the life I knew — to build something new with another person, in their home country.
My life expanded in ways I never could have imagined — both beautiful and challenging. Through the places I was fortunate enough to see and experience, and the people I met and grew to love. Yet also, through the quiet unraveling: the loss of a sense of home, deep connections with close friends, steady work, routine, my things, and most importantly, my family. There was also an erosion of confidence that happened over the granting of that first Visa that I could never have imagined before living it — daily. Without fail, I would experience the crushing looks of confusion or misunderstanding from everyone around me when I would attempt to speak their native tongue – a language that I had never so much as studied before I had move over. Instead of appreciation and encouragement I was met with defeat on repeat.
It’s wild to think that today, two years later, after living my French vision board into its reality, and receiving the same verdict — I only feel relief. Relief that I’ve finally been recognized by the French government for all the effort, stress, tears, and countless administrative hoops I jumped through to comply with their mandates. Eleven months later, when it was finally, evidently, convenient for them to say YES to me.
This time, the feeling is anything but powerful. It’s been a draining, frustrating, and often defeating process. But — I GOT IT by God!
So… let’s see where it leads me this time (if it leads me there at all).










Always enjoy your writing, and fabulous journeys. Especially in the days of AI I can tell it’s still YOU writing these 😘