I Met Her On the Internet

I face-palmed myself so well this morning that I was wondering if I was going to get around to actually writing this. Because I should/could have written it years ago.

I have had a lifelong adoration of Paris. I would type that in ALL CAPS to help convey the passion & sincerity behind the words, but the typographer in me says "NO."

As soon as I was made aware that such a place existed on this earth, I was madly in love. Madly, I tell you. Resisting a purchase that involved the Eiffel Tower in some way was like my ex-boyfriend resisting the urge to check himself out in the nearest reflective surface: odds were not good, and if it did happen, it felt horribly unnatural and ohjustdoitalready!

So, I embraced my obsession admiration of all things Paris and everyone lived happily ever after.

I assume, anyway.

My living & dining rooms are Paris. My lamps are Eiffel Towers. Are you understanding what we're dealing with here, people? (A polite nod is fine; withheld judgment is even better.)

But it goes beyond the physical stimulation the City provides. The sexy, long curves of the Tower. The heady, intoxicating aromas of French cooking and wine. The mysterious and alluring twists and turns of the tight City streets. The raw beauty that comes from historical scars. The monuments of pride and passion.

I have an inexplicable connection to the City. She and I have never met but I feel we are soulmates, destined to be intertwined in each others' lives without either of us making a conscious decision about it. I joke that my heart is shaped like the Eiffel Tower. Thousands of miles separate us and yet I feel that when we finally meet, it will be as though we have always been together. It will be comfortable...familiar. I've read that instead of saying "I miss you." there is a French saying that says "You are missing from me." And it makes me sigh sweetly because that is such a better way to describe what this feeling is...of missing someone/something you've never met.

But it also makes me a little nervous. Because what if I want to live there, you guys? What if I go and the thought of leaving Her is the most painful heartbreak I've ever experienced? A wonderful friend of mine, who is French-born, told me that I will fit in there very well. And my heart soared...and then did one of those cartoon moves where the character looks right at the screen in mid-air with eyes bulging from its head, limbs scrambling to no avail, and then drops straight down out of the sky like an anvil.

I found this image during yet another search on the vast interwebs and connected with it fiercely, despite the obvious fact that I am not French:

Anyway, I am neck-deep in all things French these days, and thankfully, Eric seems to find it interesting. If I'm honest, I think he enjoys watching my facial expressions as I talk about it. And he was so cute (and very proud of himself) as he tried to use context clues to figure out the flavors of the jam this morning...

And just in case you were curious, he chose one of the little jars of honey (le miel) to have with peanut butter on toast.

The same wonderful French friend I mentioned earlier recently traveled to Paris for work and, being the incredibly generous person that he is, brought back a couple souvenirs for me. And I am one happy girl (tres heureux)...

L: Streetscape painting on canvas; R: Chocolates from Petite Marquise

So, cheers to falling in love with a beautiful city and to documenting our fleeting encounters here. May they grow in frequency and intensity.