THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS

Julie Andrews may like raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, but after living in Paris for nearly two years, I have come up with a list of my own favorite things that I like about the City of Light that may or may not be in a guidebook somewhere. And here they are just for you:

First I would like to share a well-guarded secret. I like to take advantage of admiring Notre Dame while standing on the Quai St. Michel on the side where the fountain is. If you look around at others, you will likely notice that everyone else is so busy in thought they do not even notice their beautiful cathedral, but that doesn't mean I have to miss out...and neither do you. Just don't tell anyone. If you do, we may have to sell tickets because everyone will want to get in on the act.

If there is a clear blue sky in August, go to Notre Dame around 8pm. The light from the sun shines on the facade in such a way that the statues practically come alive. Afterwards, head over to l'Hotel de Ville and check out its facade too. Incredible!

I also like to check out Sacre Coeur from where Blvd. des Courcelles meets Blvd. des Batignolles. As you approach Place de Clichy, you won't be able to see it anymore, but WOW, what a view while it lasts!

And while we are on the subject of Sacre Coeur and spectacular views, take a peek from the hill where Sacre Couer rests. Oh la la, c'est trés beau! This church sits on the highest natural point in the city and I can survey most of Paris while wandering around this charming and yes, touristy part of town.

I like meditating in Notre Dame during vespers. The music is incredible and I am grateful to be a part of my favorite cathedral's history. Who cares that I am the only one meditating during mass and that I am not Catholic or even a Christian for that matter. I am certainly not bothering anyone and I appreciate the beauty of it all.

I like listening to the bells tolling from all the churches, particularly Notre Dame at noon and somewhere between 5:30 and 6pm. It's simply music to my ears!

For a great place to listen to the bells, walk across the street to Shakespeare & Company. Upstairs in the famous book store's "library", open up the window and let the music flow in. Afterwards, I can sit and relax, while reading one of the many old books waiting to be read. And I mustn't forget to mention that I like the free readings offered in the library or outside in front of the shop from various authors every Monday evening too.

I like that French woman get dressed up for everything. Whether they are going to dinner, a club, to a child's birthday party or if they are simply hanging out with girlfriend at home; expect them to be donning something fabuleaux.

I like all the museums. Paris is not lacking for art, that is for certain. If you are on a budget, it is good to know that many museums are free on the first Sunday of the month. And there are quite a few smaller museums that are free all the time. Here is a link to the places that are free every single day: www.parisinfo.com/paris-guide/argent/gratuite-et-bons-plans/dossier/gratuite-et-bons-plans-dans-les-musees-et-monuments_gratuits-tous-les-jours-toute-l-annee. Sorry mes amies, it is all in French, but you can at least get the names of the museums and then check your guidbook for more information.

I like the Louvre during the week when it is less crowded (note the key word here is "less." It is still crowded). My favorite rooms are the Louis-Napolean apartments; the red room with all the large David's among others; the room where the crown jewelry, China and crystal from the Rennaisance are located; the ancient Iranian section...and a special favorite: while everyone goes to see the Mona Lisa, I, instead turn around and face the largest painting in the museum, The Marriage of Cana by Veronese. The colors are spectacular, the size is enormous and it has a Bachnallian flavor. Who would want to miss that?!

On one visit, I skipped looking at most of the art and focused on the architecture, both inside and out. With all the crown molding, columns, art on some of the ceilings, and so on it is a wonder that the building itself isn't known as a great work of art...it is, after all. The size of the Louvre can be a little overwhelming and it certainly cannot be seen all in one day. Either plan for 3-4 different visits, or pick out the most important rooms to see on a map provided at the entrance...or even better forget the map all together and just wander...it's all good!

I like the garden at Musée Rodin. While the main museum is too crowded, for only a couple of euros you can spend time in the garden where his most famous works can be found. The Thinker and The Kiss among others are just waiting for your visit. Superb!

When I need a dose of the 19th century my favorite spots are the Musée d'Orsay, L'Orangerie and for my Monet fix I take a trip to the Musée Marmottan. Oh, his Waterlillies never looked as good on the calendars I had at home as they do in person!

I like that at any time during the week I can see many elementary school children on field trips at any given museum. Watching six-year-olds as they stare at paintings and listen in awe to their teacher is quite a treat. The French do not have to wait for adulthood to appreciate cultural activities. They are brought up learning about them from early on.

Kids here also experience different cultures from the time they are in elementary school. From day trips to week long trips, the school hosts excursions to Italy, England and so on. For those whose parents cannot afford it the State will fund the bulk of the trip. Everyone gets a chance to see life from a different perspective.

I like French food. No doubt about it the French can cook. Chefs take their Michelin stars seriously and for good reason. The art of cooking and presentation is très important here.

And it is not just about fine dining either. Who can resist all the delectibles at a boulangerie or pattisserie. MMM, delicieux! My favorite sweets (thus far, anyway) are eclairs chocolates, Paris best, croissant aux amandes, opéras, tartes des fraises, religieuses chocolates, Amarino ice cream, nutella/banana crepes (but ask them to put extra nutella in it...we Americans like our chocolate), meringues, macarons, and probably a plethora of other things I am not thinking of at this moment.

I like walking during springtime. Firstly, you can walk off all the calories from the afformentioned list of treats you just ate; and secondly, you just never know who or what you will run into when you walk. You might even get to see some pretty amazing street performers. From fire throwers to classical violinists, it is all here. A new Parisian adventure is just waiting to be had!

I like walking on the Champs Elysées in December. Stroll from l'Arc de Triomphe to Place de Concorde and understand why Paris is known as the City of Light. You can also do a lot of holiday shopping while you are here. But don't forget to stay warm by wearing a scarf, gloves and hat. It is winter after all.

I like the electronic teapots everyone in town seems to have. It only takes about a minute to boil water and you are set to have a steaming hot cup of tea.

I like that whether you have insurance or not, you can still visit a doctor and the usual fee is only 22€!

I like the summer rain, because it cools everything down; it gives nature a much needed drink; the most spectacular light shows are performed across the sky; and the sounds the drops make when it taps on the old buildings and cobblestone, competes with the finest symphonies. What a show!

Continuing on, I like that all the windows of the apartments are open every day during the summer. In my neighborhood, a new neighbor shares different types of music out his window during lunch time. Sometimes it's Broadway, sometimes it's disco, sometimes it's opera...I either tap my toes, or do a full on dance. What fun!

I like the Eiffel Tower which can be seen in so many parts of the city, but particularly while walking along the Seine from the Chatelet area, most especially at night when the Tower sparkles with its lights. Monsieur Eiffel had no idea his "temporary" structure would have such a permanent effect on the world.

And florists deserve their own section too. What can I say, the French do flowers with unmistakable pinache. Every window display is a feast for the eyes. If Monsieur Monet were still alive, I am sure he would set up his easel in front of each and every florist's store front.

I like the cobblestone roads...my high-heels and I do not agree on this point, but I am the one typing, so I win out.

I like all the buildings. The architecture here is like no other place on Earth. The various architects must have been inspired by romance. My eyes are just filled with romantic imaginings as I gaze upon, well, everything.

I like the concerts at Sainte Chappelle. The classical music combined with the best preserved stained glass in Europe, along with the throne where many Louis' sat is the best menage à trois one could have without going into a bedroom. It is certainly worth every centime.

The trees, the trees, the trees...did I mention the trees? I am grateful for the numerous trees that align the streets. It gives me some semblance of nature while in a large city as their various shades of green paint the streets with vibrant color. Additionally, I appreciate that they cool me down during the heatwave of summer and they are also host to many birds who sing their symphony of sounds above me. I cannot help but smile.

And speaking of nature, the French like their parks. Just walk around and you will find one near whereever you are located. My personal favorite in Paris proper is the Butte de Chaumont. Waterfalls, flowers, wildlife, lots of grass and even more trees...Hallelujah, a little bit of serenity in a metropolitan area!

I like all the kissing around here. Making out is done on a crowded Metro train, in the park, after dropping off the kids at school...actually it is done practically anywhere. C'est normal!

I like walking down rue Mouffetard on a weekend morning. One can go to the cheese shop for the cheese, the wine shop for the wine and the butcher for fresh salami. Traditionally, the French always shopped at specialty shops on a daily basis to get the best of everything. Unfortunately, this beautiful ritual is being replaced by supermarkets and McDonald's, but the quaint Mouffetard gives us a little bit of history...not to mention, it is a fun way of buying a picnic lunch.

I like going to Mouffetard in the evening too. At the the beginning of the street at Place de la Contrescarpe, you can sit and have a drink, a cup of coffee or a full meal and enjoy people watching, as well as catch a few traveling performers; including the guy with the safari costume. I can't really explain what he does, but he has had his act for years...you will want to pull out a euro or two for this guy.

I like that you do not need a car here. And the planet likes it too!

I like going to the movies here. French people still like to go out to the theater and you know this because there seems to be a theater on every street. You can easily find several theaters next to each other in certain parts of town. Furthermore, they actually fill up with people. Oh, and in case you forget to buy your candy or drink before you sit down, a concession girl will come to your junk food rescue before the movie starts. Whew, I can't watch a movie without my Haagen Dazs! They sell the good stuff here! And for those of you that do not speak French fluently, that is ok. Just look for English speaking films listed as V.O. (version originale, which if you haven't already guessed means 'original version').

I like that everyone hangs their laundry here. I had never even seen a clothing rack for drying before I arrived in Europe. Where once I was annoyed by the inconvenience, now I appreciate the laundry hanging meditation I have while hanging the clothes. It also helps save the environment and that is a big plus too.

I mustn't forget the day trips. I like visiting Versailles. I can't get enough of the King Louis' that lived there. What a life! It is not nearly as exciting if you do not know the history. So, pay a little extra for one or more of the tours.  It's well worth the extra euros.  Also note, that besides the main chateau, you can walk the gardens and visit the two smaller estates: Le Trianon and Marie Antoinette's Estate.

I like Chartres. What a beautiful Gothic cathedral. On Fridays you can walk the labyrinth. On almost any day, Malcolm Miller, the resident expert, gives tours in English twice a day. He has been there for over 50 years and he really knows his stuff. He always asks if someone has taken his tour before and inevitably a few people raise their hands. I have taken this sojourn three times myself and each time I am thrilled to have done so. He is probably the best tour guide I have ever had and they are always different. For more information on Malcolm, please visit http://goeurope.about.com/gi/o.htm?zi=1/XJ&zTi=1&sdn=goeurope&cdn=travel&tm=16&gps=609_108_1362_532&f=20&su=p531.51.336.ip_&tt=2&bt=1&bts=1&zu=http%3A//www.diocese-chartres.com/cathedrale/visites/guieng.htm.

I like Fountainebleau. Yes, it is another chateau, but who can resist that castle that made the king so jealous he copied the ideas here to create Versailles. This is the original! For more information, visit http://www.musee-chateau-fontainebleau.fr/. It is only in French, but if you go to Google and find it there you can use Google Translator to create an English page.

My favorite place on earth are the extraordinary gardens at Giverny. Monet created some of his finest works at his home in this village, using his own backyard as his model. And what a backyard it is! While most people walk through it in a half an hour, I suggest really noticing your surroundings. Meditate, bring a book and check out everything from a different perspective. On my last visit I spent five hours in the gardens alone. I have read in the guidebooks that the first week of June is the best time to visit, which is when I have gone both times.  However, I have seen photographs on Facebook from my friends trips who have gone at various times during the year.  The flowers constantly change and it is simply magnifique!  Visit http://giverny.org/monet/welcome.htm for more information.

So, these are a few of my favorite things in Paris. How about you? What is on your list?

Thank you for reading and bonne journée!

Flowers à la Monet

Eight years ago, I went to Giverny for the first time to see the gardens Claude Monet made famous in the last decades of his life. Japanese style bridges, a never ending array of gorgeous green plants and the waterlillies from the water garden he made famous are all part of this beautiful landscape. Yesterday, with much anticipation, I ventured for a second trip. All these years, I had kept in my memory the beauty of this place and wondered on the way there if I had blown the image in my mind up so much that I might be sadly disappointed when I arrived. I am here to tell you, that I can now pronounce with much enthusiasm that Monet's garden is my favorite place in the world to visit!

I had read years ago, that the first week of June is the best time of year to go to Giverny, because all the flowers are at their height of their bloom. Considering June 1st is my birthday, I took it upon myself to give myself a perfect birthday present and it is safe to say that on this time of year, the views are simply fantastic.

A friend of mine visited last month and the pictures of the flowers were completely different than what I saw. So, I imagine they are constantly rotating what can be seen. I personally saw three different gardeners working their magic hands while toiling in the dirt. I gave a double thumbs up to the first one I saw working the irises of all colors imaginable. The woman behind me offered a bravo along with her merci. She was not exagerating her enthusiasm. From the rhododendrums, irises, roses and a plethora of other varieties, the flowers greet you in such a spectacular way, one can't help to wish that you lived here yourself so that you could enjoy this garden that is like no other.

On my second visit I took along a book and sat on a bench reading. I also spent some time meditating too. Who could resist the peaceful sounds of all the birds twittering above in the grand trees? Other guests may have rushed by, but I took in every sound and every sight for several hours, luxuriating in its magnificence.

As beautiful as everything was the waterlilly garden was most definitely the piece de la resistance. I made certain to enjoy it from several different vantage points, including from a seated and several different standing positions. Oh la la, I cannot get enough! Thankfully, Monsieur Monet lived, worked and breathed this space. I could almost feel his presence painting his works à plein air. And finally, thankfully his son donated the home and property he once lived in to the state, opening its doors to the world. It is quite a site to be seen!

Please visit http://www.giverny.org/gardens/%22%3Ehttp://giverny.org/gardens/ for more information.

Thank you for reading and bonne journée.

HEALTHY LIVING

Being a California girl, I was practically raised at the health food store. Mom would make her weekly trips with us in tow and I grew up reading labels on packages. Needless to say, sugary cereals for a morning breakfast has never been part of my routine.

Fast forward a few decades and it has been quite a challenge to buy foods in France without a whole lot of stuff that does not do the body any good. When I read labels on food items here I am surprised how many things are filled with unnatural items. What happened to healthy granola?

Milk and cream is a staple in the French culture. It is as though someone stands at each package pouring milk into things that would not normally have milk in it at home. Taboule with milk, n'est pas? As a former dairy addict, I know how good it all is, but since I recently discovered I am allergic to dairy it has limited my diet quite a bit. Oh no, what's a girl to do?

Then there is the sugar problem. When I arrived, I tasted the most delicious homemade mirabelle jam. Mirabelle is a white plum that is a specialty of French fruit growers. After the first bite, I admitedly began eating this stuff out of the jar. You couldn't keep me away from it. I was told that only the natural juices of the fruit were used as its sweetener. After finishing the jam, I ventured to the grocery store to buy some more and discovered that every single jar had sugar as the first ingredient. I was disappointed, but had to have my mirabelle. I took my first bite and all I could taste was the sugar. It certainly wasn't the same or nearly as good as the homemade stuff. I frankly had to give it away.

A word about sugar: it certainly has a place in the Universe, but when one douses the natural sweetness of fruit with sugar, what is the point? So, my search for something to eat in Paris continued.

Thankfully, Naturalia came to the rescue! My hero! With 43 stores in the Paris area, this health food store is breath of fresh air to those conscious about what goes inside and outside your body. Yippee! Granola that is all natural, fruits and vegetables that are pesticide free and skin products that will make body want to sing fill this store. Halelulia, Paris is going healthy!

This store promotes "les ingredients de la vie" (ingredients for life) and they truly have it. Many products are from fair trade vendors and everything is only made with whole products, no crazy additives that you can't pronounce here. It might be a little more expensive than a regular grocery store, but who cares...You are WORTH it! Just look for the familiar beige on brown sign and enter into delicious and healthy goodness.

For more information, please visit http://www.naturalia.fr/ (sorry it is only in French) or just check out one of the many stores

Thank you for reading and bonne journée.

The Sounds from Sainte Chappelle

One of the great things about Paris is that you can see and hear classical music being performed in many of the churches. What could be better than hearing music that speaks to your soul, while surrounded by a beautiful, not to mention historical site? It is a great way to spend an evening! Some of the concerts held on the weekends are even free too. You can check out the ubiquitous FUSAC Magazine located in the metro stations, book stores and any number of free stands out there to see where the current concerts are being held.

That being said, there is one venue you should not miss while you are visiting. Sainte Chappelle, the 13th century chapel, built by King Louis IX, is a resplendent jewel meant to celebrate both royalty as well as The Church. It's original stained glass windows capture one's attention with its blues and reds lining the intimate space. The glass celebrates the stories of the Bible and are lined with the royal insignia of the fleur-de-lys.

When I was there I had the opportunity to hear Les Quatres Saisons, better known to us as The Four Seasons. I was so moved, I actually got a little "verklempt". The performance certainly stirred my soul as I watched the soloist literally shred part of his bow from the intensity of his playing. Not to worry, it did not effect his performance one bit. It was simply a piece of Heaven.

As I watched the performance I could almost feel the presence of the many King Louis' and their Queen consorts resting their royal behinds behind the musicians looking out upon their subjects. While a Louis may not be seated on the throne anymore, it was fun to imagine days long gone and how it must have looked. While our modern dress may not compare to the days of old, I was certainly grateful for the show and its surroundings.

Typically, the chapel hosts two evening performances at 7pm and again at 8:30. Tickets can be bought online for a fee from outside sources or you can purchase them directly at the chapel between the hours of 10am - 5pm. Prices are 24€ and 30€. While it is an intimate setting, if it is in your budget I do recommend spending the extra 6€ to buy the front seats. It is worth every centime.

It is located at 4 Blvd. du Palais in the beautifully maintained Palais de Justice. Be prepared to not bring any metal items as you will be going through a metal detector to get in. It is the Hall of Justice after all.

For more information, please visit their site at http://sainte-chapelle.monuments-nationaux.fr/en/

Thank you for reading an bonne journée!

FLOWER GIRL

If you have either never been or if it has been awhile since you last visited Le Jardin du Luxembourg in Paris, now is the time to go back. My goodness, the flowers in bloom! Horticulture may be just another one of the French's special talents.

When entering the park at the Rue Soufflot entrance you will be greeted by several different statues, each surrounded by a ubiquitous amount of flowers, specially designed for the statue. I am telling you, it is a floral admirers delight!

You next reach the large watering hole where kids and adults who want to remember their childhood can rent an impressive toy sailboat that can be pushed out into the open with a stick. 2€ for a half-hour and 3,50€ for one hour to bring out the little kiddie in you.

If boats don't strike your fancy, there are quite a few things for the kids to do: a playground, swingset, pony rides, ferris wheel and the famous puppet shows each afternoon. Everything costs a few euros. So, make sure to bring some cash with you or your kids might just get a little antsy.

If you didn't bring the kids, sit around the watering hole on one of the many chairs and enjoy the sun or hang out on the many benches under the glorious trees that align the outer edges of the park. Believe me, it will be easy to spark a little romance here. The French don't mind public displays of affection. C'est trés normal here. So, go ahead and do a little making out while you are here.

The Palais du Luxembourg is an impressive building that overlooks the many acres. The Senate works here and one can only marvel that they have such a grand view.

Do make sure to take a day trip here. Pack a lunch and your wallets. You will be happy you did.

Note: even though there are not any signs, it is "forbidden" to walk across the grass. And yes, the police will not only approach you if you break the rules; they will whistle, waving their arms through the air complaining that you are making a huge mistake against the king and country...ok, maybe not king, maybe state and country. So, keep it in mind and stay off the grass.

Thank you for reading and bonne journée !

Les Faux Pas

In every language idiomatic phrases abound, which do not translate word for word into another person's language. If you say to a foreigner "What's up?" They will look up, not realizing you are asking them how they are. While living abroad, I at least make the attempt to speak to the Natives, but it doesn't always work out the way I would like. I have made a few interesting mistakes with my French over the last year and half and I thought I would take you on a stroll down my memory lane in order to learn from my mistakes.

One evening after arriving here I was told that I had a lot of hair on the back of my shirt. I tried to respond with a little humor, but it didn't quite work. What I said was, "Je suis une chienne." What I meant was, "I am a dog." What I really said was, "I am a bitch." So, when I was told about my mistake I changed it to "D'accord, je suis une chatte." What I meant was, "Ok then, I am a cat." What I really said was, "OK, I am a pussy," (and not the feline kind...double oops!)

Down the road, my French began to improve, but only slowly. I tried telling someone that I was joking by saying "J'éte blague." That didn't work at all except for the fact that I got a few howls for weeks on that one. It doesn't really mean anything, but as I learned it is certainly not proper French. Even though blague means joke, I should have said "Je plaisantais." Voila, now I know.

In French they say, I "have" cold instead of I "am" cold. Unfortunately, I forgot that little fact once and in doing so I inadvertantly said I was frigid. I learned then too that if I had said I "am" hot as opposed to I "have" heat then I would have been telling the person that I was hot to trot down the road of love (or at least lust).

Then there was Easter. Here in France instead of the Bunny, they have an Easter Bell. When I told two ten-year-olds that the Bell hid some candy for them they matter-of-factly replied that they no longer believed in the Bell and refused to look for the candy. When I told them I was the Bell (all in French remember, which by the way is "je suis le cloche") I was told that I had just informed the children that I am stupid. Ah well, c'est la vie. At least the kids started looking for the candy.

In the memoir Almost French, by Sarah Turnbull, she shared how when she started learning French she asked her man if he wanted "a" pipe instead of "his" pipe. In doing so, she had asked if he wanted a blow job...I failed to mention that she asked him this at a dinner party they were hosting with his friends. Hey, expat sister, I feel your pain.

So, here is the rule of thumb, just don't take yourself too seriously when you make a mistake. At least you will learn not to repeat it again and in the meantime you can have a good laugh.

Thanks for reading and happy talking!

Allergies, Asthma and the Pharmacy

You marvel at the sights and sounds the City of Light has to offer. The Eifel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe and Notre Dame, not to mention the plethora of cafes all capture your attention. You plan your day accordingly with what you want to do next while you are here. You are dripping with enthusiasm, but unfortunately your nose is dripping from the cold you acquired along the way. That's ok. There are pharmacies practically on every street corner. You will recognize them from blocks away due to their green cross flashing different designs at you.

So, with the ubiquitous amount of pharmacies out there, you inevitably think you can run into one of them and pick up some Nyquil (or Dayquil for the daytime), but oh no, they do not carry that here! What will you do? Your French isn't on par enough to tell the pharmacist that you have a cold (which by the way is rhume).

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You can pretend to sneeze and maybe he will get it. But after hearing a story how a Portugese woman told a French doctor what was wrong with her in her language, he misinterpreted the meaning and prescribed medicine for constipation when she wanted medicine for a cold. I think that it's best to either carry a dictionary with you or just know that Fervex is the answer to cold symptoms. If you don't read French you take one packet and pour it into hot water and drink up, but only take it at night as it promotes drowsiness. You don't want to fall asleep and miss all the Parisian action after taking it. I took some just last night and most of my cold symptoms from yesterday have moved through its course. Yahoo!

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So, that answers that, but what about skin allergies? I have been here awhile and long since ran out of my lotions, creams and soaps that work for my sensitive dry skin. Soaps are a no-no for people like me with chronic dermatidis and exzyma. With products from home I know exactly what to buy. Noone ever guesses that I have skin problems. But being abroad it has been about trial and error for me trying to figure out what works and what doesn't. Marseilles gels and laits (milk cleansers) can easily be found in the supermarchés and are inexpensive. While I can't use them on my face, they work well for the body and they have an array of nice scents too.

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For washing the face, that is a different story. What works for me is Lipikar Surgras Douche-Creme Concentree Anti-Dessechment by La Roche-Posay. Whew, that was a long one. It can be found at the parapharmacies that I talk about below.

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As for lotions, I tried every lotion from the grocery store here only to find I was allergic to them all. I became so desperate, I had a friend who was visiting the U.S. pick up 2 large bottles of my lotion while she was there. Poor girl had to carry her heavy suitcase filled with all the stuff I had her buy for me.

I then ran out of my Progres eye cream that I have used for the last 20 years. Unfortunately, Lancome doesn't make the product anymore and I am allergic to all their other eye creams. I tried practically everything I could, but my eyes reacted badly to them all. Waking up every day with swollen eyelids that would eventually go down from putting a cold damp cloth on them for several hours, only left severe wrinkling and flakiness I normally do not have.

After six weeks of this hell, I then discovered the Parapharmacie. When the word Para is thrown into the front of pharmacie, it essentially means the store is bigger and has topical products. This is the place to shop for your skin care. Vichy is a fabulous brand that works for me. You may have to spend more, but who cares, your face will be happy you did! After using my Vichy cream around my eyes, the swelling and wrinkling went away almost immediately and my skin is back to its youthful look. THANK YOU VICHY!

For you asthma patients, you will need a prescription to replace your order. Doctors here are generally only 22€ if you do not carry French insurance. The meds will be different, but I think they are on par with what we have at home.

So, the moral of the story is to not worry. No need to spend hundreds of dollars shipping a bottle of lotion over from the States or having friends do your shopping for you while at home. You will find things here eventually. You just may have to do a little work to get there. But that is ok, Paris is worth the effort!

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Thank you for reading and bonne journée!

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Please note I am not a physician. These are just some things that have worked for me. Please consult your physician before trying any of the products listed above.

The Labyrinth

While I normally do not post my spiritual articles on this blog, since it is about the labyrinth at Chartres, I included it here. If spirituality is not your thing, then exercise your freedom of choice and read the next article about Sex & The City.

While I meditate daily, I couldn’t figure out what was compelling me to try a walking meditation on the labyrinth at Chartres Cathedral in France. But, ever since I found out about the maze, I have felt like the Universe was pulling me towards it. Why, I did not know. Was it going to be relaxing? Was I going to have a mystical experience? Or would I find the whole thing to be a bit silly? I would have to give it a whirl myself to find out.

I arrived early in the morning and was surprised to see the maze was actually crowded. I began my journey somewhere in the middle, trying to bypass incoming traffic. For the first thirty seconds or so, I was leaning on the side that this thing was just a silly pastime, but then my viewpoint rapidly started to change.

Almost immediately, I realized that I had to be mindful of the path I was taking. It was rather small and if I did not pay attention, I may step out of its boundaries. I thought about this metaphorically speaking how life is not supposed to be about achieving the goals we set, but rather the road we take to reach them. Nothing is important, but this moment we are in right now. Every time I make a move, whether seemingly good or bad, it is taking me where I want to go and I am learning along the way. It is all good. We just have to learn to break down the barriers that hinder our perceptions from seeing things in a positive light.

From time to time, I would briefly look up to see the entire labyrinth. Once again I was moved to visualize the lines on the floor in a greater context. It occurred to me that the labyrinth symbolically represented the Universe. It made me think how as an intuitive, I can often see the past, present or future with moments of deep understanding. Unfortunately, sometimes intuitives have a mightier than thou complex, thinking that what they see is always 100% accurate. I always teach that intuition is clouded by our own perceptions and it should be used a guide not as a definitive rule book.

Furthermore, in the grand scheme of things this sense of clarity that we often feel is simply a mere glimpse into the span of eternity. As I continued my mindful walk somewhere along the labyrinth’s path, I understood clearly how we are all given glimpses into the vast information the Universe has to offer, but for the most part we have to look directly at the moment we are in. Whether seeing near or far, it all can be celebrated. Being aware of where my feet were going was teaching me this.

I began paying attention to the nooks and crannies dug out on the floor from nearly a millennium of wear and tear. They formed many shapes that I could distinguish and it became a game for me. I looked upon a genie’s lamp, so I made a wish. I noticed a map of The United States and wondered if I were from Spain if I would have seen that country instead. The Statue of Liberty graced her presence and I though how we can all choose to be free if we want to. I saw several animals and was grateful that we share our existence with such noble creatures.

The crowds were still there and I noticed the sound from the beat of my footsteps matched the woman directly in front of me. While I started out on my own path, without realizing it, I began mimicking hers. That would not do.

Jody Foster said it best, "Normal is nothing to aspire to. It's something to get away from." I did not, nor do I ever wish to succumb to the status quo. I want to express my uniqueness. So, I did the only thing I could do in that moment. I changed the pattern of my footsteps. The sounds being made were now mismatched from hers. It was like a symphony off key, but I didn’t care. I was creating my own music.

I soon made it to the center for the first time and the circle was surrounded by the crowd that had just finished. No one ventured inside. Were they afraid? For me, the circle represented The Creator. I wondered if these people saw it in the same way and somehow thought they were separate from the Divine Force. I knew otherwise and I made my move, celebrating my Unity with the Divine.

I felt extreme joy. I faced the stained glassed window in the back of the room. For about two seconds I battled with my ego whether or not I should remain quiet as the others were or should I express the rapture I was feeling. I laughed that I even doubted myself for a moment and did what I needed to do. I raised my arms in the air above my head as high as they could go and wiggled my fingers. With a smile on my face I created a made up sound, something between YES and BooYah. I had made it here and I wanted to share my enthusiasm.

The others surrounding me were not amused. Who was this strange woman and her strange ways they wondered. But I did not falter. I stayed my ground and did what I needed to do to create my personal reality. If the others chose to not see pure joy as part of God’s work, so be it. This was about me, not them.

Just because I made it to the center, I was not done yet. I walked the labyrinth many times over the next couple of hours. Each time I started in a new place; from the middle, the end, and the beginning. Why not, it’s my own journey. Human beings have created this sense of linear time where we have to move from A to B. The reality is we are Spirit Beings and can move from A to D and back to C if we so choose. Why not start at the end and work your way back? Seeing things from a fresh perspective is always a good thing.

The others that were in the room were experiencing their own journey. One women wearing sweats was on a mission to exercise on her path, racing past each of the other participants. One person held out her palms as she walked. Another stood in meditation for a half an hour just outside the center. There were a group of Germans sitting along the sidelines being told about the history of the maze by a tour guide.

The kids were more playful in their approach. They paid attention to what they were doing, but they didn’t object to moving out of the way when the adults walked in the opposite direction. Laughing all the way, it was simply about fun for them.

At one point there was a group that walked right through the middle of the design to get to the other side, completely unaware of its existence. By this time, there were only three of us in the circle. The woman standing in meditation with her eyes closed did not notice a thing. There was another woman besides myself with her arms outstretched. She became visibly annoyed with the audacity of the others for not paying attention to her space. In her eyes they were doing it “wrong”.

I, on the other hand, had been smiling on my entire sojourn. I enjoyed noting everyone’s different approaches. There are seven billion ways to express our realities and they are all perfect. No one is ever wrong. Even when we are oblivious to the fact that we are on the path to Enlightenment we are still learning along the way. Moreover, when we have reached some level of Spiritual Awareness where we undertake things such as a walking meditation, but still cannot see the beauty in individuality, it doesn’t matter. We are working our way up to seeing the Light. Each of us is on varying levels of the same path and it is all good.

Afterwards, a white haired elderly woman in a red blazer moved in the opposite direction from me. She contemplated her path as she moved along, but abruptly halted each time I approached her. Her sternness could be read on her face. She clasped her hands in prayer almost as though they were fists. She would never budge. I smiled and moved to the side each and every time.

As I ran into another woman we smiled at each other as we both moved off course to allow the other to move through. I realized then that there are hiccups in life. Nothing ever moves as smoothly as we would like them to¸ but so what. Sometimes we have to get out of life’s way and let it happen. Why not see life from the adventure that it is, smiling at our co-conspirators as we move along. There is no problem getting off course for a moment or two. We can quickly get back on when we choose to.

I tried different things on my excursion. Some people were teetering on both feet before taking the next step. I tried it. In Sangha Buddhism one breathes in with the left step and breathes out with the right. I tried it too. I walked fast. I walked slowly. Each time I entered the center I did it differently. All the while I repeated in my mind, “I love this labyrinth! I love this labyrinth!” What I was really saying was, “I love my life! I love my life!”…and the great thing is, I do.

Thank you for reading and bonne journée!

Please note: The labyrinth is available only on Fridays as it is covered with chairs for the church on all other days.

Sex & the City

As an American woman, I find I have always taken for granted how easily it is to talk about one subject or another with other women. We girls can talk about anything from our innermost feelings to sexual positions with our men without batting an eye. On the other hand, I have read repeatedly from books written by other expats that this sort of freedom of speech is a big fat no-no among French women, even for those who have been friends for years. Domage! (Too bad!)

Even one of my French clients shudders if I ask him if he has a date in the evening...and he is a man. I mean from my perspective what is the big deal? The good news is it looks like things might be changing, even if just a bit.

The other night I was standing in the kitchen chatting with a friend and we were rambling on a little about this and a little about that when it finally happened, the sex talk was brought up. Tintilating talk and a few laughs later, I realized I hadn't had much of this kind of conversation since I had been here. It seemed so natural to me, but then I realized who I was talking to...a French woman!

So, I decided to ask, "It's my understanding that this sort of conversation is taboo amongst French women; even for those who have known each other for years. N'est pas?"

"Yes, that is true, but things are changing. And do you know why?"

As soon as she asked, I knew the answer. I blurted out, "Sex & the City!"

"Oui, bien sur!"

Wow, who knew a television show could have such an impact on an entire culture! Well, I say kudos to the show and kudos to the French who have decided being more open is actually fun. C'est très bien!

So for you expats, you still may want to check the private subjects at the door when talking to a French person, but who knows, maybe in the course of the evening you will be able to bring them out to play after all.

Thank you for reading and bonne journée.

THE GAME IS A-FOOT

The game is a-foot...football that is. For those Americans not in the know, to the rest of the planet, football means soccer. Soccer may not be the sport of choice within our borders, but leap anywhere outside and you will see children playing in the streets with their soccer balls in tow while adults scream cheers or jeers at television screens in various languages around the world.

Sure movies like Bend it Like Beckham and its namesake David Beckham himself along with former Spice Girl wife, Victoria, may have brought to the U.S. a little glam to the sport, but even the good looks of this hip couple can not spring forward the intensity that soccer fans everywhere else have.

One might think, what is she talking about? We have our own football and we are fans of our teams! Yes, we may have American football and given a good Monday night game or most especially when the Super Bowl rolls around, fans can be found at BBQs and bars around the country cheering for their favorite team, but our fans do not hold a candle to the "fan"atic behavior that soccer conjures up on all other continents.

I remember the first time I traveled to Europe. After my university days were over, I decided to embark on the mandatory backpacking tour of each country with my then boyfriend. We happened to be here during the World Cup. I didn't know what the World Cup was at the time, but I quickly learned it was the biggest tournament in the world. As we traveled through each country I found that entire countries were rooting for a team. I mean as a Bay Arean, us locals root for the 49ers or the Raiders, but here it's everyone everywhere following their national team.

And boy is this game taken seriously. While leaving Italy on that first trip, the train was suddenly silent for the rest of the journey. Radios in every car announced that the Italians had just lost. I don't know about you, but it is my experience that Italians are the most expressive people in the universe. So, to hear the sound of silence there of all places was quite an oddity.

I then found myself in Germany during the final round and guess what? The Germans won. I would like to think it was our presence that gave the Germans the good luck card, but don't tell them I said that. Singing and general partying in the streets until the wee hours of the night was a requirement, even to us Americans who had just seen our first game and had no idea why it was so fascinating to everyone else. At least the partying was a good time.

Fast forward to last night, some cup or another was being fed to local Parisian TVs. It wasn't the World Cup, but maybe the African Cup. The game was clearly over at 11pm. I knew this because at exactly that time fans began their cheering and horn honking for the rest of the night. Nearly 19 years have passed since my first soccer experience. Then I was completely game to party along side the fans. These days, however, all I could think about was "Don't these people have kids or at least jobs? I need my sleep!"

After an hour of listening to screams outside my window, I decided to either get used to it or put some plugs in my ears. Soccer is here (or should I say "hear") to stay.

Thank you for reading and bonne journee!

IT'S TEA TIME!

If you are walking through the streets of Paris during the cold months of winter, you will want to take a break to get warm. If you happen to be visiting the column in the heart of the Bastille, why not saunter off a few blocks to toast your tootsies with a cup of tea. Le Bar a The will tempt your palette with an array of herbal concoctions from around the world. Choose from a seemingly never-ending assorted menu of teas and infusions (decaffeinated herbal teas) this cafe has to offer.

On my last excursion, I chose a sweet infusion called Zen Family. The server informed me that the tea needed to steep for ten minutes before consuming. Well, I can honestly say the tea was worth the wait. I enjoyed it so much, after finishing the last drop, I asked her to boil more water for me so I could savor the tea a little longer.

While this cafe's primary function is to serve tea, it also can alleviate any growlings your stomach may make. A refrigerated section contains pre-made sandwiches and the like. So, don't despair, your tummy can be filled up with something more than liquid yumminess.

I took my two hour sojourn during January when it was too cold to eat (or drink) at the outdoor tables. Not to worry, the ambience indoors is as impressive as the tea. Comfortable chairs and dark wooden tables with artwork highlighting the walls is reminiscent of any cafe in my San Francisco hometown. This place could have been swooped right out of Fillmore Street and plopped here in France.

The service, like anywhere in Paris, is a little hit or miss. The first time I tested the waters, the server was kind and generous with her time. On the second visit, a different waitress practically threw the tea on the table. Maybe she didn't like my garbled up Americanized French? I could have taken the revenge road, screaming profanities in English (or French for that matter) to her, but I have learned the high road is a whole lot brighter. What is best in these cases is to become superwoman (or superman) in the nice department. Eventually, the meanies will turn their stone faces into smiles, even if it takes a few times.

If you are tired of the same old coffee joints, give Le Bar a The a whirl. Your taste buds will be happy you did.

Le Bar a The
9 rue Antoine Vollon
12eme
Metro: Ledru Rollin, line 8

Thank you for reading and bonne journee!

Les Toilettes

When I came to Europe for the first time twenty years ago, I was forewarned about having to bring my own toilet paper when using public restrooms and that the public restrooms may consist solely of a hole in the floor that you simply had to straddle, doing your very best not to splatter all over yourself. I visited many restrooms in many restaurants and cafes that fit this description to a tea. Fortunately, the facilities have done some improving over the course of the last couple of decades. I still may run into a forlorn hole in the floor on occasion, but it is more a rarity then the norm.

That being said the toilets here are, simply put, wierd. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for indoor plumbing, but coming from the U.S. my perception of how things "should" be is skewed by my cultural upbringing.

So, what's so different about the toilets here? Well they all have a different way of flushing. Some toilets are like our w.c.'s of a 100 years ago with a chain that you must pull down. Some may have something on the lid that you have to pull up. But more commonly, they have flushing-buttons which are either on the top lid of the toilet or in public restrooms they may be on the wall. There are usually two choices to make. A big button, perhaps in the shape of a large crescent moon and another one in a smaller crescent shaped moon. The big button is for "big" needs and the little button is for smaller needs.

That's all well and good. Save the environment and all that, but that little button gives me a headache. I push it down in order for the toilet to suck up the few pieces of toilet paper and it can not handle that much work. Oh, you can press it several times, without much luck. Or you can hold it down, wasting just as much water that you would have had you used the big button...mon Dieu!

A few weeks ago, while washing my hands in a public restroom a family of Australians queued up in line and were perplexed. They weren't sure how to open the door. In this establishment along with many others in Paris, there is a fee of 50 centimes to open the door. Some places will actually give you a blank coin to use, but you need to be 'in the know' to ask for one. After explaining this, they got their coin and were able to take care of their business. I saved their day...or at least that moment. Just call me Superwoman.

On another occasion, last summer, I had been walking the streets of Paris, consuming bottled water along the way to quench my thirst from the heat. Well, water doing what it does needed to come out. I scouted out the first cafe available and explained my predicament to the woman. She emphatically expressed, "Ce n'est pas possible!" (It is not possible!) She told me I had to buy a coffee in order to not explode. I turned to the bartender and handed him a 5 and asked him to not make me a coffee as I detested coffee. This action nearly caused World War III. They would not permit me to get away with that either. I had to buy and take something. Luckily, I discovered they sold bottled water. Evian to the rescue! Thankfully, I never have this problem with male servers. So, I have taken a mental note, when in shear desperation, bat my eyelashes and ask a man.

Now, if you decide to live in Paris, just a word about cleanliness. Toilet bowls are shaped differently here and many of them need to be cleaned after each use. No further description will be given here, just remember to have a toilet bowl brush nearby at all times.

Also you should keep in mind, there are those higher-end public restrooms that will actually have someone posted in the restroom for your convenience. What that convenience is I am not exactly sure, but hey when in Rome do as the Romans do and when in Paris...Well, you get the point. You will be expected to pay them a fee and maybe a tip. The fees range from 50 centimes on up to maybe 5 euros. At least the restrooms you have to pay a pretty sum for are usually clean. The 50 centime joints, like at the train stations, not so much. Just pay the fee, plug your nose and squat!

Another thing that might be a bit shocking is that quite often men and women share restrooms. Men will be standing at the urinal, doing there thing while you wait in line for an available toilet. The French don't give it a second thought. I am still at the point where I am giving it a second thought and admittedly I may have sneaked a peak or two...Shh, don't tell anyone!

All this talk about toilets, and I haven't even gotten to the bidets yet. Well, I will let you figure that one out on your own. The good news is, gone are the days of me having to lug my own toilet paper around as I visit the sites. Hail to Les Toilettes!

Thank you for reading and bonne journee!

THE FIRST NOEL

It's my first Christmas in Paris. Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire...Ok, maybe not an open fire. More like chestnuts roasting on a silver aluminum platter resting over hot coals in a metal garbage can, but who cares? The chestnuts are still warm and roasted. And they are certainly everywhere, especially at the metro entrances. Nat King Cole would be thrilled.

And what does the City of Light have to offer in the light department? Let's just say, A LOT! Ok, if you are in the primarily Muslim area of the 10th you are not going to find too much in the way of holiday lighting, but walk down the Champs-Elysees during this time of year and you will get a big dose of Christmas. Every tree aligning the street has streams of blueish-white lights running down the branches. Many of the shops have lights outside on the buildings, as well. I was trying to determine if I liked it or if it was too gauche. I decided to lean on the side of liking it. If they put up just one more light, however, it would look like Las Vegas.

While in the U.S., avid light stringers align doors, windows and rooftops with flickering lights. Here in Paris, strands of lights are hung either vertically or in lace-like designs covering windows and even walls. It's as though banners of strung lights are hanging from the rooftops of both private residences and many public buildings. Check out l'Hotel de Ville (city hall) and the le Marie de Paris (mayor's office of Paris: please note that each arrondissement has their own mayor too, but I am talking about THE mayor of Paris here). Two words: "simply lovely."

Notre Dame gets into the Christmas game, as well. Of course, Christmas IS their game. Blue ornaments highlight the beautifully lit tree in the Plaza. Inside the church the creche, of course, has special significance. This is not like the table top creche you have at home. This one would surely take up one of your small rooms. Unfortunately, when I was there the baby Jesus was missing. Mary, Joseph and all the rest looked adoringly at an empty crib. Where was Jesus? Was he stolen? No, it turns out that they don't put the baby Jesus out until December 25th, since that was the date of his birth. So, don't get discouraged if you are seeing loads of creches minus the most important element. He will show up in just a few days!

While at Notre Dame make sure to check out some of their musical programs. The choir of Vespers and the organ concerts bring to life the holiday season all the more. Go to www.notredamedeparis.fr for more details.

While you are in Paris during the month of December, take a walk, get lost and see what you find. Various streets have themed holiday lighting and decor. There is plenty to see and who knows, maybe you will run into a caroler or two.

Thank you for reading and Joyeux Noel!

The English are Coming!

You’ve been in Paris for weeks and the one thing you miss is going to the theater. You long to see one of the many plays in town, but your French isn’t exactly up to par. Sitting in a room for two hours listening to actors in a language you don’t understand isn’t what you had in mind. You long for the days of English theater, but you are at a loss at what to do. Don’t despair. You can still get your theater fix at Le Pavé d’Orsay on the second Thursday of every month…in English!

Don’t expect a full production with sets, however. What you will get are professional actors doing a reading of a classic play. Très magnifique!

Last night I saw A Long Day's Journey into Night by Eugene O'Neill. Yes, the actors were reading their parts, but these people are professionals. They are still performing. Think back to the day when our grandparents only had radio. Actors carried their performances with their voices. Here we get the added bonus of seeing what the actor’s look like too.

There is no admission fee, though donations are gladly accepted. Wine, non-alcoholic beverages and light fare are available during the intermission.

Located just a hop, skip and a jump away from the Musee d’Orsay at 48, rue de Lille in the 7th arrondissement. Shows are generally from 7:30-9:30, with a discussion afterwards. Last night’s play was over three hours, so they changed the time to accommodate the length. Check their website for details at http://lepavedorsay.blogspot.com/. Use Google Translate to change the page into English.

And one more thing to note, Le Pavé is an art gallery. You may just be lucky enough to enjoy looking at a few contemporary pieces while you are there. Theater and art…who could ask for anything more?!

Thank you for reading and bon journée!

STRIKE 1, STRIKE 2, STRIKE 5,987,432...YOU'RE OUT!

On any given day, one is bound to find some group of Parisians striking or marching against the government. The French take the act of striking to a whole new level. In the U.S. when Major League baseball players went on strike in the mid-90's it almost cost them the game. If players didn't want to play and support their fans interest, then so be it, we would no longer support them when they came back. It took much canoodling on the League's part to get people to come back to the game. In France, on the other hand, going on strike IS a national sport. It's almost as though each union is racing against the clock to accumulate as many strike days as possible. And the French put up with it. C'est la vie.

After being here for nearly a year, I have decided to make light of how many strikes there are here, that is until now. My God, the museums are on strike! Now my 'upset' barometer just went off. I mean what will they do next? I think the only thing worse could be turning off all the public restrooms. Perhaps I should not have mentioned it either, because maybe they will do it!

First the Pompidou and some smaller museums leaped for the opportunity to go on strike last week and now the Louvre may join in on the quest for truth, justice and the French way, starting tomorrow, December 2nd. Yikes, there goes my free Sunday, not to mention how many hundreds of thousands of euros to all the tourist venues, including the museum itself. Strikes don't just affect the employees of the strike, it affects the restaurants, the souvenier shops and other local businesses. Since tourism is a major contributor the city's economy, shutting down public venues like this really hurts everyone's pocketbooks.

Yes, the museum's workers have their reasons. Apparently, management only wants to offer half the people retirement. I get it, people are mad. Blah blah blah. But seriously folks how much anger is there in Paris to have so many greves (strikes)?

I am sure that management will inevitably give in to the employees demands. They seem to always have to. In the meantime, make sure to check the latest scoop online to see if your museum of choice is closed.

Thank you for reading and bonne journee!

OY VAY!

You haven't really visited Paris if you haven't taken a sojourn through its wonderful nooks and crannies. Rue de Rosiers is one of those spots. Embedded in the heart of the 4th arrondissement, or Le Marais, this little piece of Israel is a must see.

From the small shops where window's display Menorahs and various other forms of Judaica to men in yamakas or even the full traditional garb of the Hasidics, you will be surrounded by a big dose of Jewish spirituality.

And if religion isn't your thing, not to worry, there are plenty of delicious kosher restaurants here. Authentic delicatessens, not to mention the ubiquitous falafel joints which are practically screaming at you to eat there. And why not? They are worth the small price of a long wait and a low fee. 5-7 euors is a typical price for a falafel sandwich.

Just a note that some of these places have men outside taking your money in advance. No need to panic that it might be a scam. It's just how they do it here. You pay the guy, he hands you a ticket with your order and then you give it to the person in the window. Your meal will be made to order in just a few minutes.

The falafel places take fast-food dining to a whole new level. Who needs McDonald's when you can eat fresh veggies, sauteed eggplant and yummy falafel wrapped in a pita bread and made right in front of you! Your eyes and more importantly your stomach will surely be tantalized by all the goodies!

My personal favorite is Chez Hanna, a small hole in the wall near the end of the street. It's red exterior calls to pedestrians walking by. With it's painted declaration that it has "the best falafels in the world," they probably are not too far off from the truth.

Order at the window a emporter (to go) or get lucky enough to sit inside at one of the tables. For the best availability for a table, arrive promptly at noon during the week when the restaurant opens.

If you have a hankering for a bit of kosher food or need a dose of spirituality, this charming street and area surrounding it won't want to be missed.

Thank you for reading and bonne journee!

Chez Hannah is located at 54 rue de Rosiers.

C'est La Vie

The other day I waited in line at the supermarché and the line was growing exponentially. The one and only cashier called for backup. The new cashier, who was supposedly coming to our rescue, ambled to her post as though she were on a Sunday stroll in the Tuilleries. Before opening the register, she grabbed some plastic grocery bags and as the line was growing ever more rapidly she separated a few of them from the larger pile...one at a time...and as slowly as humanly possible. She said her bonjour's to the other cashier, discussing the important matters of the day. Then looked underneath her register, perhaps to make sure her garbage can was there. Five minutes later the new cash register was open for business. Mon Dieu!

To top it all off, after waiting in this line without an apology or even a simple hello, the cashier waited rather impatiently for me to bag my groceries before serving the next customer. You see, in France, the employees do not take care of the bagging. "What, you want moi to actually do some work? Ce n'est pas possible!" No, they sit comfortably in their chairs (yes, chairs are provided for them here) and you, the paying client, must bag your own sacks.

As the scenario was taking place, I had visions of being allowed to work in a retail store in France just for a week, so they could see a customer service goddess in action. During my college years, I managed different shops and could not only ring up people faster than the scanner could, I could actually ring up two people at a time on two different registers (the thing is, I am not exaggerating!) I greeted all customers with a familiar smile and chatted with them about their daily lives. We were friends after all and besides, the customer is always right...not so in France. The customer is rarely right and how dare they speak up and ruin a worker's day anyway?

Then this morning, as my own story was stirring in my head, I picked up Stephen Clarke's book, Talk to the Snail, where the author shares in the very first chapter similar mishaps with French customer service. You mean he noticed it too?

Meanwhile at home, my roommate wondered if the internet was now working. We received all the equipment, but were waiting for France Telecom to turn on the phone line. My roomie fervently continued to check to see if it was turned on. "It's a holiday today," I said. "I assure you it won't be turned on today." His repsonse? "But it's just a matter a flipping a switch. We have already waited a week!"

I then tried to explain the French work ethic. I knew of someone who didn't have their internet working for months. Each month they racked up bills that they paid, but always had to leave their home to check their emails! In addition, you have to actually pay (by the minute no less) to talk to customer service. They spent over 100 euros speaking to someone in Africa who couldn't help them. When I asked why they just didn't switch providers, the French person told me it was because their provider was the best, bien sûr (of course). How could I have been so foolish?

I then told him I had once scheduled appointment with a Darty repairman to install a part in the refrigerator. He was to arrive on Tuesday between 10 and 2. I waited...and waited...and waited some more. He finally showed up…six days later! No phone calls. No explanation. He was just suddenly there. C'est normal!

If you are a tourist, you hopefully will be so enthralled with being in Paris you won't even notice the lack of service. If you are a resident expat, well, what can I say? We must take the good with the bad. Try not to have a lot of expectations with the customer service in this country (because essentially, it does not exist). If you just move about your life with a smile and not let this cultural idiosyncrasy get to you, life will be grand in this beautiful city.

Thank you for reading and bonne journée!

PS. If you are an expat, you already know what I mean...If you are French, I sincerely apologize. I truly do love your country!

Armistice Day

November 11th marks another French holiday on the calendar. This time Armistice Day, or Armistice de la Première Guerre Mondiale, which signifies a more solemn occasion. Those who were killed or injured during the first World War as well as those from other wars are honored on this day. Traditionally, the sitting president will lay a wreath of flowers at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Arc de Triomphe.

While this isn't a holiday of a whole lot of partying, please take note that the post offices and most stores will be closed tomorrow.

Perhaps on your visit through the streets of Paris, maybe you too can remember that many people have lost their lives in countless wars throughout history. Perhaps we can send out a simple thought of Peace on this day.

Thank you for reading and bonne journee.

REIKI CLASSES & SESSIONS - 20% off through November 23rd...

For all you REIKI enthusiasts who are either visiting or living in Paris, you can have your REIKI "fix" while you are here!

I am an American REIKI master and I not only give sessions, I teach classes so that you can learn to do it yourself. Each level is just a one day course and after the attunement process you are forever able to give REIKI...including to yourself!

In addition, I have a free studio to hold classes and sessions through November 23rd. So, I have decided to pass on the savings to you. Yipee! I am offering 20% off for ALL REIKI services through this date. So, you can save your pocketbook a few bucks too.

To learn more, please visit my site at www.serenitylifestyle.com. I hold classes both open to the public and privately held around your schedule. So, there is always room for you!

Thank you for reading and bonne journee!

THE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS

What could be more exciting for the art world than to discover a new painting by Leonardo DaVinci? Sold a few years ago for a mere $19,000.00, the new owner had an inkling this painting was not a 19th century German piece as originally thought, but indeed a work by the great Renaissance master himself. A multispectral infra-red camera in France substantiated his hypothesis was correct.

A 500 year old fingerprint of DaVinci left on the canvas, matching the fingerprint on another masterpiece was confirmed by French analysts. Not to mention other details such as the fact it was painted by a left-handed artist as Leonardo was known to be. In addition, carbon dating done by the English confirmed the work to be authentic.

New York art dealer, Peter Silverman, can be thanked for his arduous journey to prove the new discovery. La Bella Principessa, or The Beautiful Princess, is now thought to be the portrait of Bianca Sforza, daughter of Ludovico Sforza, part of the powerful ruling dynasty in the Milan duchy during the late 15th century and early 16th centuries.

The painting, now worth an estimated $150 million is quite a few pennies profit for Silverman. And who knows, maybe Dan Brown will write another story of intrigue behind another DaVinci work.

Thank you for reading and bonne journee.

DARK CLOUD OVER THE METRO

For the last several weeks, many expat friends and acquaintances have mentioned to me how the people in the Metro live in their own little world, making little or no contact with anyone else. Faces are empty of all expression except for the frowns that might be plastered on a few faces. The expats in turn decide it is in their best interest to copy the locals and block others from entering their energetic space, as well. Eyes undoubtedly move down to the floor and the cycle is continued.

Hearing this, I am compelled to put in my two cents worth. If someone jumps off the Eifel Tower are you going to follow them by doing the same? Of course not. So, why do so many of us feel it is necessary to be like everyone else? Instead of being a sheep following the next guy in front of us, why not take the course of the shephard and be a leader. Make a stance for change. Exude happiness.

"I smile while on the Metro," I tell the disillusioned expats. "Why?" is the inevitable response. "It is my mission to smile even when others don't smile back. Eventually someone will make visual contact and return a smile my way. This one person can make my day. For the others that don't notice or who look away, I figure I am their seed planter. I am simply planting the seed of joy in their lives. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. Maybe I will start a trend and change the dark cloud over the metro into a sunny, happy place. It only takes one person to make a difference. Be that one person."

Whether you are in a the Paris Metro or walking around the streets in your home town, smile at the people around you. If you smile the world smiles with you. Even if they don't show it, you are helping to make someone's day.

Smiles everyone. Smiles.

Thank you for reading and bonne journee.

FRENCH HEALTH CARE SYSTEM

It was 4:19 in the morning and my bronchial cough I have had for the better part of ten months was raging. I knew I wasn’t contagious, because I have never given it anyone, but it certainly made it difficult for me to breathe. Not to mention the fact, that it has exacerbated my exercised induced asthma into full blown asthma. Needless to say, my breathing situation has not been easy to deal with over these last several months.

I have been to two doctors here in France. They both gave me antiobiotics and different asthma medication, but now I was out of my asthma spray and I was hurting.

My internet was down and I wasn’t sure where the hospital was, but I decided to follow my instincts and began to make my walk down the quiet French streets. Half way there I was not only painfully coughing, I began to have a full-blown asthma attack. I was barely able to catch my breath. Leaning over trying to gasp for air, I slowly continued on my journey.

Thankfully, my instincts were right and within 15 minutes I was at the military hospital. After reading the sign posted on the gate, I knew they allowed emergency patients to enter, as well. I pressed the bell three times, however, to no avail. I dialed the number listed on the sign and no one answered. I was beginning to panic. I tried to ring the bell one more time and this time the gate opened.

I walked in and nearly breathlessly explained my predicament to the guard. He told me where to go and I repeated my story to the attending nurse. She contacted the doctor and they immediately put me on a ventilator and strapped an IV into my wrist. The ventilator eased my breathing and the IV calmed the coughing. It was a good feeling. I cried from shear joy that I was able to breathe properly again.

They took blood tests and x-rays. Thankfully, I am not contagious (as I already knew) as there was no infection. However, my lungs had some inflammation. The doctor told me this was due to stress. Yes, I knew this too, but it was nice to have the confirmation.

I was at the hospital until nearly noon. Two doctors and many nurses and attendants assisted me. There bedside manner was impeccable. They turned off the lights to allow me to sleep. They fed me a nutritious breakfast when I awoke and they even offered a shower to me. If I was awake, people entered to ask if I needed anything. Even the cleaning woman said a friendly, "Bonjour." I thought those working in the medical field in the U.S. should take note on the French’s more appropriate behavior towards their patients.

The most amazing part of the story, however, was not the fact that I received such wonderful treatment from a gracious staff; it was the fact that I did not carry health insurance and they treated me anyway, all free of charge. I needed help and they came to my rescue. The Hippocratic Oath actually means something to the French.

When I was 8 years old my mom was baking the night before Thanksgiving and dropped a heavy can of flour on her toe. We rushed to the Emergency Room at Kaiser to fix her broken toe. My brother and I played in the waiting room, when I noticed off one of the hallways several people surrounding a patient on a gurney. Someone insisted they could not operate on this man until they had a signature from his wife. A few minutes later the man died. I have never forgotten this image.

I also broke my ankle a few years ago. My orthopedic surgeon informed me that I need orthotics for my shoes after the healing process was done. I paid $420 dollars a month on health insurance and they would not cover me for I did not have diabetes. I am not quite sure what diabetes has to do with broken feet, but clearly our system needs an overhaul.

Why is it that our healthcare system has been allowed to be dictated by insurance carriers? Our medical caretakers are so afraid of making a mistake and being sued that they turn people away. Healers need to remember why they are in the business of healing in the first place. Is it really about money, or are they here to be of service and help others. The French certainly have the right perspective. I hope that someday the Americans will too.

Thank you for reading and bonne journée!

THE PERFECT CROISSANT

A little bird whispered in my ear that a boulangerie in the 7^th was the best. So I felt it was my obligation to investigate the matter. I was informed that it was located on Rue Nicot, which would be an easy street to remember for Monsieur Nicot discovered nicotine.

I didn’t know the name of the bakery, but when I saw it, I knew it was the one. Named simply La Boulangerie, the bakery can’t be missed for its overhang announces itself to the street with large bold letters.

I decided to test drive a croissant beurre (butter) and a scrumptious looking spinach quiche. I had been craving spinach anyway and I was delighted that I didn’t have to prepare it myself.

I only had to take one bite into the flaky croissant to know I found the best of its kind I had ever sampled. I could hardly contain my glee as I walked along St. Dominique savoring every morsel. I was only saddened after my last bite. Alas, my sadness was alleviated for I still had my quiche. Surely my eyes must have rolled back into my head as I sampled the egg and spinach tarte. Until that day, I thought I made the best quiche, but this nugget was more like a national treasure.

Their bag claims to have the best baguette in Paris and I tend to believe that it is true. I look forward to experiencing more treats from just another gem in the City of Light. This city is known for the boulangeries and after examining the evidence it is clear that this one is arguably one of its best.

Located at 85, rue St. Dominique at the end of rue Nicot. A second location is in the first arrondissement at 75, rue Saint-Honoré.

Thank you for reading and bonne journée!