Over one month behind.  Good pace.  I’m really keeping up here.  I swear it feels like Julie P was here last week.  And now we’re in June.  Who has put this time thing on fast forward?

Today marks 3 months of being in Paris, and I can’t believe it.  Happy Anniversary, Paris.  (Monthiversary, if we’re being technical.)

Back to “last week” (in my head. Last month in real life)…Julie P came to visit me!

We had a joyous reunion in the courtyard of my apartment building where we screamed and yelled and squealed and hugged in really high pitched tones until a French man leaned out of his window and chastised us because he was on the phone. Welcome to Paris.

Julie brought with her what I like to call “the duffel bag of life”.  It was SO exciting, it was like Christmas morning.

I made the mistake of assuming that March/April/May this year would be like last year…cold, cold, and more cold.  Last May, I had to buy two jackets and wore tights and boots and scarves the whole time.  So I only brought winter clothes with me when I moved here, thinking that Julie could bring me a bag of Spring/Summer clothes when she came in May.  WRONG. Mistake. Loser.  Right here.

Paris has had an unusually early & warm spring, so I spent weeks going to work wearing boots & jeans in 75-degree weather, sweating every day and sometimes taking off my boots and walking around the office in socks & skinny jeans (attractive) bc I thought I might burst into flames.

This is also right around the time when I broke down and just started wearing tennis shoes & running shorts to work, thus breaking the previously sworn oath to myself that I’d never wear tennis shoes in Paris unless I was exercising.  (Because, as previously mentioned, it’s like wearing snorkeling gear when you’re not snorkeling. Weird, inappropriate, embarrassing.)  It was a good 7 years of never having worn tennis shoes or a t-shirt in France.  Ever.  Not once.  Took about two weeks of working at Fat Tire to throw that out the window.

Finally, when I realized the warm weather was here to stay and I would NOT be able to wait a month and a half until JP got here…I went to H&M and got a pair of shorts and some summery shoes.  That one pair of shorts and shoes has lasted me until the glorious arrival of the Duffel of Life.

Spring clothes!  Shorts!  Dresses!  Sandals!  Skirts!  Sleeveless things!!  I wept over the bag in joy and put everything on at once.  Not really.

Here are some of the other super exciting and joyful things I received from dear friends and family:

France is not big on spicy things, and I am!!  Ground Cayenne pepper, red pepper flakes, hot peppers from Pot Belly (Yayyyy! Spicyness!).  And crunchy peanut butter – not because I miss peanut butter (hello, I have Nutella), but because this jar will provide me many many cheap lunches with a 2 euro loaf of sandwich bread.  How else can you get protein and feel full for about 30 cents per sandwich?  The jar is reaching its end already, it has fed me well.

I won’t bore you with the other things that nearly made me weep with excitement (like a big plastic cup because I drink tons of water and the only glasses you can find in France are all the size of dixie cups.)  Let’s just say, it was joyful.  Thanks to all who contributed, it brought much happiness!!

Enough about my DUFFEL BAG.  I swear I start typing, and suddenly, I’m like, “What am I talking about? Why have I chosen to share this?  This is not an adventure in Paris.  This is duffel bag contents/hairball in a drain/weird stuff in my dried soup mix.  No one cares.”  I should change my blog title to “Stupid Stuff No One Cares About in Paris.”  I apologize, let’s move on to Florence.  Next post.