Un je ne sais quoi:

There's Something about Frenchmen

As much as I would like to think of my Parisian romance as unique, I know without a doubt I am a walking cliché. American girl has a chance meeting with a sexy Frenchman. They have an amazing night together, and then VOILA, they're in love! Well, it’s not quite as simple as that, but you get the idea. Even my idea for this blog isn't original, as I've seen a number of other bloggers with similar bylines. With all the romantic stories of girls falling in love with Frenchmen, you gotta wonder what’s their secret. What is their “je ne sais quoi”?

Getting comfortable in Paris meant I had to make friends. So I did what any New Yorker does best, I networked. I went on expat sites, chatted with girls at my language school, and before I knew it, I was connecting with girls in much of the same position as me. I’ve met girls from all over; America, Brazil, China, Japan, Holland, Russia and of course France. Except for a few, nearly all are living in Paris for one reason, l’amour. Regardless of where we come from, we all share commonalities. We are living in this foreign land, coping with all its quirks and kinks to be with our sometimes infuriating Frenchman who somehow looks irresistible no matter what he's doing!

Yes, a Frenchman can be spontaneous, romantic, charming, passionate and incredibly complicated. Add to that the natural sensuality of France and you can only begin to understand the innate sense of seduction every Frenchman emits. But unlike the stereotype, they are amazingly exclusive. I remember friends in the States being concerned about my love affair because everyone knows “Frenchmen are NOT faithful”. However from my experience, Frenchmen aren’t any more deceitful in matters of the heart than American men. In fact, loyalty and honor are MORE important to the French than Americans. A written contract is a requirement in the States for any legitimate promise. But for the French, your word is your bond. Sure the French are more “open” and not stuck on conservative or religious ideals like some Americans. I don’t doubt that loads of French men and women cheat on their spouses. But, I can confidently say after years of bartending in New York City and witnessing married men regularly remove their wedding bands while others conveniently forgot they had a live in girl-friend, a Frenchman is surprisingly monogamous. Okay, maybe that monogamy only lasts a couple of weeks or a month, but it keeps until your love affair is over.

When Americans first start dating, they aren’t considered “exclusive” until it’s discussed. But for the French, it’s assumed you are monogamous and faithful until otherwise stated. To a Frenchman this explanation sounds VERY “unsexy". But as an American, I have to strongly disagree. I can’t speak for the other girls who have left their native land just to be with their French boy-friend, fiancé or husband, though there is obviously more to be discovered beyond my reasoning, but I can definitely say that exclusivity, honor and loyalty are VERY sexy. As for the rest, well that’s just icing on an already deliciously decadent cake.

Á Bientôt

-CityGirl

A French K.I.S.S.

Keep It Simple Stupid

When I first imagined living in Paris, I had all these ideas of what I would do with my free time; write music, maybe explore other artistic outlets, visit museums, fill up my time with things I didn't have time to do in NYC. I started planning my days before I even arrived. But when I finally arrived, I fell into a state of nothingness. What I found I needed most was just to stop and decompress. Stopping in New York is NOT an option. If you stop, you risk getting run over OR, worse, falling apart. But, my life had turned into one of those big rubber band balls; a collection of complications (i.e. clothes, beauty products, disappointments, bills, accessories, jobs, heartbreaks, metro cards, gym memberships, lovers, etc…) and it was time try to delicately unravel it.

Jump back exactly a year ago; I was in a rush to move out of my apartment and into storage. I had accumulated so much junk that my father had to fly up and help me sort through it all. Imagine MY FATHER helping me sort through nearly 6 years of my New York Life! He got a bit more than he bargained for when searching through some of my drawers. I think he is still recovering from the trauma. But, thanks to him, I tossed out about 20 bags of crap and donated another 15 bags to charity. Still, I had enough stuff to fill my storage unit to the top. (Oh, how I dread sorting through that mess!) My move to Paris just a couple of weeks later was fraught with anxiety of what to bring and what to leave behind. In the end, I lugged some serious baggage to Paris both literally and figuratively. It didn't take long for me to realize I wasn't done sorting through the junk, and Paris was the perfect place to do it.

I wish I could say that I was able to empty my bags with care and grace, but I do have a tendency of taking forever to unpack. However, sorting through the past and making changes is never easy, and it took nearly the entire year in Paris to finally clear the layers debris; i.e. old flames still barely burning that I finally blew out, realizations that I nearly became everything I never wanted to be (desensitized, bitter & hard), “frienemies” that needed to be tossed out, latent issues to get over, wounds to mend, etc... Slowly, with each piece of luggage I emptied and each piece of junk I threw out, I started to feel different, lighter like I could breath again.

In Paris, my life was immediately stripped down to the 4 basics; food, family, friends and freedom. In my “nothingness” time, I realized how enjoyable the basics can be. Too many layers of complications covered the good stuff, the simple things. Even the strongest of personalities and most self-aware person would eventually crack in the life I was leading while in New York. I hadn't realized how much I'd been affected by it all or how much I was loosing sight of myself amongst all the stress, drama and unnecessary junk. It took leaving to really get a clearer picture. I definitely had some incredible moments in New York. I met amazing people, seriously sewed my wild oats and tasted life as only a New York City girl can. However, in the end, it all got to complicated to enjoy. I used to think simple = boring, but life can still be fun and exciting without all the BS. Truth is, I’m really a simple girl at heart. Now, I realize life is so much more pleasant when you take a moment to just slow down. You can actually contemplate what makes you happy. My perception of what I want and need in my life have completely changed. Now, life without complications is a welcome breath of fresh air.

At the moment I’m in the process of dumbing down my collection of Paris shoes in hopes of making my move back to the States a bit more smooth than my move to Paris. HEY, give a girl a closet and she’ll find ways to fill it! But I’m only filling it with the good stuff this time!! =)

Á tout!

-City Girl

CHANGES: Former Skinny Bitch

I used to be that girl who could eat anything and never gain a pound. I got used to jealous comments regarding my slim physique. Mind you, though I was slim I still had some curves. Even into my late twenties, I had girls (apparently who never matured past the 9th grade) refer to me as a "skinny bitch". They thought in some way this was a put down and in the end I realized "they" were just bitter bitches. I guess I would rather be a skinny bitch than a bitter one. Anyway, though I maintained the metabolism of a 12 year old, I never took advantage of it. I was diagnosed with high cholesterol by the age of 10 and my mom banned chips, candy, (real) cheese, butter and other delectable treats that most kids love from my diet. When I reached my early twenties, I started exercising regularly mostly for stress relief. I also had a rather active job bartending in NYC for close to 5 1/2 years. So I guess you could say I never tested the limits of my metabolism.

In all fairness, Joe warned me of possible weight gain when we first met. Apparently, it was symptomatic of most girls he dated. I immediately brushed off such comments as I was far too narcissistic to "let myself go". However, slowly but surely I noticed my pants fitting a little but tighter with each passing month we were together. I chalked this up to "getting older" and in many regards I think I was right. However, Joe's repetition of liking me "with curves" and constant compliments may have made me a little too comfortable in my own skin. Then I moved to Paris...

I was never a "foodie" (a.k.a. one who loves gourmet foods or food in general for it's consumption, study and preparation). Even working in the restaurant biz as long as did never made me interested in food, beyond what I needed to know for explanations to a customer in as few words as possible. I did enjoy tastings and, of course, desserts (mmm, chocolate!), but I never REALLY enjoyed food. My knowledges of food was based on nutrition and healthy diet needs. I always read ingredients and tried to maintain a low fat, high protein diet. But something happened when I moved to Paris.

Well, for starters I wasn't working OR exercising. I took for granted my active lifestyle in NYC and the fact that I was no longer 20 something. On top of that, I was eating food like I had never eaten before. Joe was feeding me morning pastries in bed regularly on a silver plater like I was a queen which I fully enjoyed! We were eating family meals everyday (food and family go hand in hand in France) with cheese platers following up the main course and saucisson as an appetizer. I was no longer aware of all the ingredients in my meals, nor did I care. All I knew was, my hair and nails never looked so healthy and the food tasted DAMN good! I was eating as much as Joe for most meals. And when I wasn't, he was practically feeding me off of his plate. Note: Joe is 6'3" and naturally slim and muscular. He can eat Macdonald's and Chinese food 3 times a day and have nothing more than a bit of a stomach ache! Joe has little knowledge of eating healthily and none regarding low fat diets. I was too immersed in enjoying food and flavors for the first time to notice the affects of my change in eating habits and lifestyle, until I started having some serious stomach issues.

About 3 1/2 months into my move, I had to make an emergency trip to the doctors. For starters, I had one of those pesky UTI's again and some other ailments I was unfamiliar with. My stomach stuck out like a pregnant lady and kept making all these weird gurgling noises. The doctor stuck me on a scale. I looked down briefly and was grateful for the metric system. I quickly stepped off and onto an old fashion doctor's table. In fact, EVERYTHING about this doctor's office was like a scene right out of Madmen á la 1950's America. Anyway, Joe translated to the doctor some of my complaints. The doctor pressed on my stomach and preceded to ask me (in french) if my stomach was making noises like "grrrbrrllrgrrrbrrll". Joe answered for me, "Yea, actually, her stomach is rather loud these days!" Just a quick trip to the pharmacy, and a couple days later I felt like a new woman. As it turned out, all those daily baguettes, butter and cheese had done a number of my digestive system. What I thought was endometriosis was actually severe constipation! Okay, T.M.I., I know, BUT I feel it is necessary to fully understand my situation.

After recovering a bit, I took more notice of my body and how I felt. For the first time in my life I could feel skin moving on my body in weird places, more specifically FAT, and noticed dimples in areas where dimples should never be. I decided things needed to change and fast. I was very unfamiliar with even the idea of weight gain. I never fluctuated more than 5 lbs. in my life. The sudden reality of my weight gain hit me hard. Thankfully it was still cool outside and I could get away with baggy cloths to cover me up. But, I decided it was time to get active again.

I started running around Paris more frequently and invested in my first Jillian Michael's DVD per suggestion of a friend. I was soon working out 5-6 days a week and cutting back on my portions. It wasn't until I started actually losing weight that I took the time to convert that number I saw on the scale at the doctor's office. Holy God! I couldn't even believe it! I had to confirm with Joe that THAT was actually what I weighed in at in the doctor's office. I put on some weight before my move, a healthy 5-7 lbs. which was fine and put me at a normal weight anyway. However, I put on at least 20 lbs. in 3 1/2 months living in Paris!! For a former skinny bitch that was no easy feet! Gaining 20 lbs. in that amount of time took some effort and serious work! I'm not sure if I should be mortified or proud of myself for taking a moment to fully enjoy food.

By the beginning of the summer, I was starting to feel a bit better about myself, but I was still very unsatisfied with my new figure. I wanted my body back. I wanted my self-esteem back. I wanted to look at a full body picture of myself and not cringe! So I did something I swore never to do. I tried a fad diet, more specifically a PARISIAN fad diet. I had Joe help me translate the recipes. It looked harmless enough and promised to take off up to 3 kilos (roughly 10 lbs.) in 2 weeks. The first 5 days were detox days with mostly raw fruits and veggies. By day 3, I was bed ridden with what felt like a combination of food poisoning and the worst stomach flu humanly possible. I was only able to drink broth and rice for the next 3 days. By the time I could keep down solid food, I had in fact lost nearly 10 lbs...just not the way I had hoped and definitely not the way that keeps. I enjoyed fitting into my skinny jeans for about a week. Shortly after I put back the weight I had lost in that evil Parisian detox(ic) diet. This was the first and definitely LAST diet I will ever try. From there on out, it's been portion control and regular exercise all the way.

Ten months after my move to Paris, I am still fighting off the last of my weight gain. Part of me has accepted that the last 8-10 lbs. may never come off...at least not while I am living in Paris. However, I am at a healthy weight for my height and body type. I partly enjoy my new curves as it does have it's perks (less investment in push up bras!), but I look at photos of me from before my move and I'm envious of that girl. I seriously took it all for granted. I'm still enjoying my French food as my time here is quickly coming to an end. I work out regularly but don't feel the need to starve or kill myself. I feel proud of myself for every milestone as I know I've worked for it. I try not to step on a scale and gauge my progress by how I feel. Because at the end of the day, THAT is what is most important...well, and having a wonderful man who tells you everyday that you are beautiful and sexy certainly helps too! ;)

Á bientôt,

-CityGirl