Prelude to My Trip to Paris

Today I made my favorite Parisian meal, fresh steak frites with a beautiful Bordeaux. All ingredients were purchased on my block at Rambuteau and Rue du Temple.

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I rented a 1 bedroom apartment in Paris for 5 weeks. A dream come true. Lucky for me my apartment is in Le Marais, secured in the heart of the city near great shops. You may have read a lot of stories or have been to the fantastic street markets of Paris. They do rule, but what is even better is my block. As each store on my block specializes in each food product; fruits & veggies, meat, fish, yummee bread, desserts, and fine wine... even videogames. So when I went online to secure an apartment, I friggin' lucked out! I'm just sayin'... You have to check out this block. If you come here at 6pm usually all the stores are open. Rambuteau is the street I speak of, you want start at Rue du Temple and head towards the George Pompidou, it's a block away. I don't kid.

Fresh fruit, veggies, spices, and meats makes a great meal and has inspired a little bit of writing. Here I am telling you, the Blogger screen and hopefully blog reader, about why I am in Paris.

Paris is another home for me, that's why I escaped to this beautiful city. I know it's sounds strange, because DC, NYC, Vail, and especially SF are my homes (yes, we all can have more than one place to call home if we travel enough). When I was une jeune fille, my mom had her first husband pay for trips for me to visit him and some of our family in France. So for 3 summers I would visit Paris, Toulouse, Nice, South Essex from ages 9 to 14 (-ish, I can't really remember the years/ages... it's close enough). If you read my previous blogs about Vietnam you would know that my Momz is Vietnamese. Her first husband is the same and is married to a French woman (now that is a long story). My (half-) siblings, 3 brothers 1 sister, are all birthed from this first husband, we can call him "Bo".

My first visit to Paris was with my Momz. We had a quick visit with Bo, stayed with her brother in Paris, then spent several weeks in Toulouse, Nice, and Madrid. My Aunt Ann lives in Toulouse with her family. She was my guardian in Vietnam and during our escape from the war. Ann is super genuine and a special lady. In her home, like my Uncle and Bo in Paris, Vietnamese and French are the languages of choice. Given my age during these visits, I had no idea what anyone was saying nor did I try to learn. So my French and Vietnamese is shit.

My second visit to Paris was solo. I flew by myself at the age of 12-ish and spent a lot of time with Bo in Paris. I remember glimpses of bouquets of croissants, bread, and cheese for breakfast with the French wife. What I do remember from that trip was that Bo drove me to Toulouse to stay with Ann for the rest of summer. In Toulouse at the awkward age of 12-ish, I was, well, awkward. Awkwardness is a bit of fun and disaster at once. Fun because, what do I care. I made friends, had cousins from Paris stay too, and the family took an RV to the south beaches of France. A disaster because my hips and legs are growing faster than my arms and torso. I'm like a Wolf puppy, growing too fast to understand what damage my tail and body can do. So I break everything I touch. My new size breaks the new swing sets, any kids toys, and takes the bike out to only land a handle bar streak along the brand new car. I suck, I know it, but what can I do... no one really understands my English.

My third trip to Paris started with my Sister, Tien. We spent a couple of weeks with Bo in Paris. Bo is ecstatic to have is daughter stay and we visit every stone (aka Tourist Attraction) in Paris. I have pictures to prove it, but they are boring and hiding in a box in a closet some where. I left my sister to fly to London and stay with a Junior High friend, Karen, in South Essex for a month. By my 14-ish self, I fly to London where Karen's father can pick me up. In South Essex, we cause a ruckus. (that too is another long story)

So to sum it up, Paris is another home. A place I am familiar with. A place for me to come to to relax and feel comfortable/safe. Today I am in Paris to write this story. I know it now. As I slowly write my history I will get to the point where I am today, slowly growing my hair back after shaving it off for a self-created fundraiser. The fundraiser was to help a family in need in SF that had gone through a tragic occurrence in their lives. (that's a whole entire novel)

Here in Paris, I have relearned how to relax and enjoy life in a different light. Don't worry, I'm still the hard working professional partier. But I'm also back to my holistic healing dancer chic too :)