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Year Two: A Story of Progress

May 21, 2013 · by Nikki

Last year, I wrote a post reflecting on what my first year in Paris had been like. Though I acknowledged a lot of positive elements from my first year, I also described the sensation of struggling between the person I was inside and the person I was forced to be due to my lack of ability to express myself in French.

Last year it was like trying to understand these singing frogs 🙂

Now I face a whole different kind of struggle. One which I can’t really get into here (yet! but maybe if all you boys and girls are good I’ll save you a nice story for later…;) ), but mostly with money. HOLY HELL Paris is expensive. And the taxes are just, well… that’s a first world problem and I’m just going to go ahead and bite my tongue (can’t hurt any worse than those bills from the government! Ouch!).

However, I am able to happily report that, for the most part, I feel a lot more like myself than I did 365 days ago. There’s a few reasons for that, which include:

Paris is still pretty, even “under” the snow

I’ve kept a lot of the friends I met in year one, and have been able to let go of my insecurities around them. I no longer fear that they’re going to think I’m stupid if I make a mistake in French, and I no longer worry that they’re going to think I’m stupid if I butt into a conversation in English. I think they know me, now, and they’ve decided to stick around. They’re either loyal to a fault, or messy conversation isn’t all that bad.
I’ve improved my French. I mean, let’s hope so, right? Seriously, after being here for 2 years, I’d like to think I can answer my own cell phone and not have a heart attack. Okay, I’m still working on that one, but I can definitely participate in conversations now that I couldn’t before, and people remind me all the time that I’ve come a long way.
I’ve gotten into the rhythm of how life works here. Do I still get frustrated at processes that are painstakingly inefficient? You bet. But do I expect them now, and have a good laugh about it? Most of the time. And it doesn’t hurt that even on its ugliest days, Paris is still pretty.
I made some catastrophic mistakes in 2012. How can that make me feel more like myself, you ask? Well, first of all, I wouldn’t be me without some huge blunders now and then. And second, I forced myself to look at who I was and what I was doing, and realized I was starting to get off track. I have this weird philosophy about myself that I’m always changing, and I still am, but I’d like to at least be changing in positive directions. I was starting to go the other way, and was able to reroute myself.

So there you have it. I spent my Two Year France-iversary watching the rain come down outside of my apartment and watching Saving Private Ryan (for the first time) in light of our recent trip to Normandy. Oh yeah, there was wine in there, too. For what is an anniversary without a toast…

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Perpetual Passenger as an American Woman in France

February 6, 2013 · by Nikki

Recently a good friend asked me to join a networking group that aims to help ready Americans (and others) for a move to France. Read More →

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Bienvenue au Batobus!

December 13, 2012 · by Nikki

So you want to visit the City of Lights. But If metros and buses aren’t for you… Read More →

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Paris Cupcake Wars: Sugar Daze

October 9, 2012 · by Nikki

The moment has finally arrived. The moment when I review the cupcake shop to end all cupcake shops in Paris. The one everyone told me about, from a comment on of of my earlier cupcake posts, here, to an article written by MammaExpat over at HJ Underway, here, to recommendations I received via twitter: Sugar Daze was the must-try bakery on my list. Now it’s time to reveal whether or not the shop is worth all the buzz…

At first glance: The first few times I walked past Sugar Daze I actually didn’t notice it. It was only when I was on a mission to find the shop that I realized I had walked down that same street several times, since my doctor was located around the corner. “How could I have missed a cupcake shop?” I had asked myself as Frog Prince and I turned onto the familiar street. It even has a colorful awning and a lovely glass window displaying some delectable treats that looked more than tempting.

At second glance: Once I finally stepped inside, the overly-commercial decor of the other shops I’ve visited yielded to a simple, relatively white-walled setting… which didn’t hold my attention for more than two seconds in light of the cupcakes on display.

Look at these beauties! Don’t they just make your mouth water?

At first bite: As with Daisy Miller’s, I knew before taking a bite what the experience would be like. Except in this case, I was expecting, and experienced, opposite results. I went immediately for I Love Rock N’ Roll, with it’s hand-crafted sugar guitar sitting atop the perfect amount of frosting. The frosting was sublime, and the cake was perfectly moist and well-flavored (which says a lot since they had been refrigerated after buying them the day before). At Sugar Daze, Cat makes full-sized cupcakes (not those little mini ones the Parisians try to pass off as cupcakes), so we each selected a different cupcake, cut it in quarters, and shared. I can say that the second, third and fourth bites were also exquisite.

Amazing cake, perfect frosting, and a hidden surprise?! A trifecta of tastiness!

Overall: Again, I don’t pay much attention to pricing, but I can say that Sugar Daze has the best-tasting cupcakes so far (and perhaps in all of Paris), and they offer full-sized cupcakes, so the price is probably higher per cupcake but not by weight, and for good reason. Not only is the size and taste enough to make these cupcakes worth the money, but the time spent on making each one look uniquely perfect is a rare thing in the cupcake world, rendering each one worth its weight in gold. Oh, and did I mention how fresh they were? Yeah, the list keeps going…

It’s almost like I don’t even need to say this last part, but for the sake of consistency: DEFINITELY GO to Sugar Daze if you’re in Paris and craving a cupcake. You won’t be disappointed! 🙂

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Paris Cupcake Wars: Daisy Miller American Bakery & Restaurant

September 17, 2012 · by Nikki

I bet you thought I had taken a break from my mission to discover cupcakes in Paris, hmm? Well you’re wrong–I haven’t!

Frog Prince’s big sis clued me in to a potentially dangerous thing: a cupcake shop in my neighborhood. This sounded like trouble, and I needed to investigate. Enter: Daisy Miller American Bakery & Restaurant.

At First Glance: Technically the first glance I had of this place was the website, and I liked what I saw. They have some really great photos of some delicious-looking cupcakes, and I felt both excited and worried about the prospect of having such yummy desserts nearby.

See how yummy these look?

At Second Glance: The shop seemed pretty bare, which I tried to overlook considering that they are newly installed into their little corner of the 12th arrondissement. But as soon as I took a look at their cupcake shelf, my heart dropped and I knew that my initial reaction of disdain for the wannabe-American bakery was an accurate one. We actually called before coming, since it was August and so many shops close for summer holiday, and we wanted to make sure they were open. They told us that they were, in fact, open for business, but asked us to delay our visit by just a bit so they could put out more fresh cupcakes. We obliged, but when we got there, I’d say their selection was extremely limited, and looking far from fresh.

At first bite: I didn’t need to take a bite, actually, to know that these cupcakes wouldn’t measure up to the previous two shops I’ve visited. Each cake looked exactly the same (no differentiation in flavor), and the frosting looked like whipped cream mixed with flavoring and/or food coloring, topped with cheap candy. Nevertheless, the first bite confirmed–these were not what an American would consider a cupcake.

Overall: I can honestly say that we felt bad serving these cupcakes to our dinner guests that night. Fortunately they were up for the experiment, and didn’t hold it against us, but this isn’t a bakery that I plan to return to anytime soon. Obviously, my verdict for this one is DON’T GO to Dasiy Miller.

As a side note, I was particularly put-off by two other things: First–the name indicates that this bakery is aiming to resemble something American, either in look, feel, or food offering. Not only were the cupcakes not at all up to American cupcake standards, but the decor in the shop centered around imagery from… London. Second–the one American thing they did have on their menu that looked appealing was beer. I was especially excited to see Sam Adams Boston Lager on the menu (for obvious reasons), and we tried to order one… at which point we were notified that, uh, they were out (or do they even carry them??). But we could have Heineken! No thanks, Daisy Miller. And maybe you should revisit the American theme you have going on…

Image credit: http://www.daisymiller-cupcakes.com/

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Things I Learned: in Kos

September 14, 2012 · by Nikki

A good indication you’re in a Greek seafood taverna

When in doubt, hop on a plane to a Greek Island. You won’t be disappointed.
Bee stings do hurt.
I am not allergic to bees.
Beach + sun beds + the ability to order food and drinks while sea side = paradise
I already knew that I needed meds to be on a boat, but now I know how to recognize puking passengers and distribute meds accordingly.
A sunburn-free holiday is the best holiday.
A 3-island boat cruise on the Arch Angel Michael departing from the port in Kos Town is not a bad way to spend a day.
Taking the Katerina for the above-mentioned boat tour probably would have been better, though.
When in Kos, Shrimp or Prawn Saganaki is a must.
Making friends with the guy in the Red Sox shirt may result in two free shots of Jager.
Local live music is never a bad idea.
Driving a four-wheeler is fun!! (I could very well be late to the game on this one)
The Oromedon Restaurant in Zia is great for sunsets, not so great for vegetarians.
I suck at pool (wait… maybe I already knew that).
The island of Kos is a holiday hotspot for Brits.
That means tons of bars have big screen TVs and are otherwise equipped for football (soccer) games.
If you’re hungry on Kos, look for a Taverna.
If you don’t find a Taverna, be prepared for less-than-mediocre meals from kitchens that offer everything from nachos to indian food… on the same menu.
Donkeys really do make hee-haw noises. At all hours of the day or night.
I like to wear the color yellow.

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A Trifecta of French Frustrations

August 1, 2012 · by Nikki

They say things happen in threes. I hope that’s true, because if I experience another run-in with the Parisian rudeness that I have been actively assuring others doesn’t exist, I might just lose my mind.

After gaining the confidence to try to speak some French in public, I have been surely and swiftly knocked off of my little pedestal. For a city that is known for its culture and class, the people here certainly can lack tact. Here’s a recap of my descent from moderately confident to fearing foreigner:

At my neighborhood grocery store, an old lady asked me where she could find a “boite de sel,” or, a box of salt. Not knowing the answer (or what exactly a BOX of salt was), I told her, in French, that I would ask someone. She understood me and thanked me for offering to help. I found the nearest grocery store employee, to whom I said: “Je cherche une boite de sel…?” knowing that I was looking for something rather odd. His response: “Vous n’êtes pas français, hmm?” (or, “you’re not French…”). He then laughs, and follows me to the aisle where the old lady is searching. Um… did I make a mistake here? Am I speaking so unintelligibly that you cannot understand me? Obviously not. So stop focusing on the fact that I’m not French and tell me where we can find a freaking box of salt, damn it!
At a restaurant ordering lunch last weekend, a waiter makes a joke about what I’m ordering in French. I smile politely and nod, not even realizing he was making a joke, which prompts him to ask Frog Prince why I didn’t get the joke. He of course responded that I don’t really speak French. At the end of the meal, the waiter looks me in the eye and asks me in French if my plate was good. I responded “C’était bon!” Meaning, it was good. At which point he proceeded to sarcastically ask me if it was “bon ou bonne?” in an attempt to correct my French, and he was in fact, making a mistake (insert French grammar lesson about masculine and feminine forms, here). Nice try, buddy. I didn’t realize French teachers also worked as waiters on Sundays.
On the same day as incident number 2, we were at the lake enjoying the rare Paris sunshine. Somehow we started playing football (soccer) with a little boy nearby. The great thing about little kids is that I can speak to them in French, probably making plenty of mistakes, but they totally understand me and don’t judge me at all. However, a group of pretentious mommies who arrived after our game of football had started, who sat themselves directly adjacent to our playful little match, proceeded to tell us we were playing too close to their children, and DO like to judge. Apparently they heard me speaking to the little boy and felt that my French was sub-par and felt it necessary to talk among themselves about my poor language skills. After being informed of their comments to each other, overheard by Frog Prince, that I should learn how to properly speak French, we decided to ignore their warnings and played until they left. Hopefully, they went to find something better to do, like pay attention to that baby they were so damned worried about that they strategically placed him near an ongoing football game.

A photo from our day at the lake – which would have been exceptional if not for some mean mommies 😦

To be completely honest, after getting home from the lake and having all three incidents hit me at once… I cried. For the first time since moving to Paris, I cried solely because I felt so completely frustrated with living here. On the bright side, it took me almost a year and a half to reach this point.

But have no fear, friends, family, and faithful readers… after my pity party passed, I have made a resolution: I’m gonna learn the SHIT out of this language, if for no other reason than to go back to that waiter and tell him what I think of his français de merde. After my meal is finished, of course.

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Paris Photo Quiz

July 31, 2012 · by Nikki

For my most recent article for MyFrenchLife, I decided to mix things up a bit and pose a small challenge to readers. Here is the quiz… enjoy!

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A Poetic Plea to Paris

July 11, 2012 · by Nikki

Since I had fallen off of the blogging bandwagon, I hadn’t shared with you my latest article for MyFrenchLife.

Here it is, in all of its rhyme-y goodness 🙂

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Breathe!

July 9, 2012 · by Nikki

Ahhhhhhhh…

That was the sound of me finally catching my breath.

The last few weeks have been INSANE, and in the midst of the craziness I have fallen off of the face of the proverbial planet. Shame on me.

But don’t worry–I have fueled up my space ship and am heading back down to earth. Prepare for landing. 🙂

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