La troisieme

We’re still only two, but our days as a childless couple are numbered. Bébé is due to arrive on Wednesday. Next weekend, we will come home and nothing will be the same. It’s all just incredible to think about.

We’ve been mentally and emotionally preparing. Physically, I am beyond ready. And our apartment has been rearranged, organized and cleaned, and it too is now ready!

I am loving how her room is taking shape. Seeing as we just renovated and moved in less than a year ago, we weren’t looking to totally redo the second bedroom. And seeing how neither of us are interested in creating a pink or purple princess experience, her bedroom is sort of awesome.

Clean and bright, colorful and cute.

But accommodating the grandparents, cousins, uncles and friends we expect to sleep on that fold-out sofa.

As the year progresses, she’ll take over the room more and more. For now, it’s a mix of our stuff and hers. Slowly, we’ll turn everything over to make room for what I’m sure will be a growing stuffed animal and book collection, which has already been started by thoughtful friends.

I especially love that my friend, Connie, got her “baby’s first pastries”!

In fact, so many friends and family members have been generously gifting us. She’s a very lucky girl. So far, I’m loving the balance of old and new. I have the blanket my grandmother knit for me, along with the blanket my mom knit for her, plus Andrew’s baby blanket.

Plus soft stuffed animals, swaddle blankets and sheets. It’s a’comin, my friends. She’s a’comin!

Hello, April

Another wrinkle in time. A game of leapfrog through the weeks. My life lately has been a little of this:

And a little of this:

And, joy of all joys, a girls weekend in Miami with my four soul sisters.

So I'm not complaining.

I've been pretty good about Vegan Mondays but managed to get a nasty cold that knocked me out during my mom and stepdad's visit. Fortunately, I had Girls, True Detective and The Art of Fielding to entertain me during convalescence.

What I'd really like to do is motivate to share before and after pictures of our apartment, which Milo is clearly enjoying.

But first, there is wedding planning. June 14th, y'all! It's just around the corner.

So bear with me at my middle-aged snail's pace. There will be apartment voyeurism, a trip to Paris and other revelatory snapshots and quotidian thoughts in the weeks ahead. Hip, hip, April!

Time, time, time…

It’s especially hard to believe that it is now March. Not only have weeks gone by and I haven’t blogged and I wonder what I do with my days, but the weather here in New York is on a cruel spin cycle. It’s just cold, snow, wind, repeat like a not-so-funny Groundhog day joke. I thought we were through the worst of it, but we’re slated for at least a couple storms this week. Le sigh.

Life has just become so much more inward-focused. While Andrew and I got to Kansas City and Rhinebeck in February…

 … and hit a couple new restaurants (River Park, Red Rooster, Bar Corvo), I obviously haven’t been sinking the same gusto into documenting these adventures. I did, however, check out the new Ladurée in Soho and get my fill of pancakes during Clinton Street Baking Company’s Pancake Month.

(Oui, they're as amazing as they look.)

There have been a few conversations about Paris, My Sweet and writing assignments.

There have been developments on the apartment front (I am planning to show some serious before and after photos!).

There has even been a little progress on wedding planning (nothing specific to reveal yet).

Mostly, I revel about my serious days of blogging and moonlighting, eating and adventuring. What fun it was. How life changes. And, what's new in your world??

The View

Just came across the evening view from my apartment in Paris.

My heart skipped a beat.

Out with the old, in with the new

It’s been a long haul. Ten months after our search began, two months after renovations started, we are in our new place. Even though it’s hard to see the actual apartment with the piles of crap everywhere, it’s going to be pretty awesome. It warranted some Manhattans on our first night in.

L'Update

I’m absolutely loving the profiles for the new guard of expat bloggers in Paris. Each woman is so cool in her own right, but you can see how they’re all linked by a light, adventurous spirit, an appreciation for food and friends, and deep gratitude. It’s just wonderful to relive the excitement of living in Paris.

I’m going to continue the profiles (next up, Milsters of Little Pieces of Light!) but wanted to squeeze in an update while I had the time. ‘Cause there’s BIG NEWS.

I’m leaving my job! Woot woot! And I got an apartment! Hallelujah!

I’ve been pretty miserable in my job for some time. It’s not so much the projects or the hours, but it’s been working for two toxic bosses who taint the whole experience. We spend too much time at work to feel crummy about it, so I’ve been looking and thinking about what I want and finally connected with an agency that I’m really excited about: Spring Studios. I can’t wait for a new chapter and to feel good about going to work again.

And within 24 hours of receiving my offer letter, we got the signed contract for our new home in Prospect Heights. It’s a lovely two-bedroom, near Prospect Park. 

The amazing architecture and leafy, green streets, plus stellar restaurants…

….makes this one of the coolest neighborhoods in Brooklyn and worth the five months of crazy apartment-hunting.

I’ve been eating some healthy, some not.

I finished Culinary Intelligence and All That Is (loved them) and just started Penelope Lively’s How It All Began (and excitedly saving Wild and Yes, Chef for our week-long beach vacation on Cape Cod this summer).

I’ve had friends from LA, Paris and Hershey passing through town, bringing me to such places at the Big Gay Ice Cream Shop, the Bohemian Beer Garden for belly dancing performances, and the Gramercy Hotel for rainy night jazz.

I haven’t tried the city’s new bike share program yet, but am looking forward to scooting around on the bright blue bicycles...

(albeit on a weekend morning, when there is very little traffic. Velib’ing around Paris was one thing, but the Indy 500-style taxi driving in New York makes me nervous).

I also have not gotten my hand on a cronut yet. 

Milo is getting very chubby, but he's as cute as ever.

Parisian touches

When I moved to Paris, I brought 10 boxes with me, most of which were clothes, and, in the nearly two years there, I learned (sort of) not to consume so much as I knew I’d have to pack it all up in the end. It was good practice in living with less and enjoying an uncluttered home.

Now that I’m back in New York, I’m trying to maintain the same sparse (but cozy) aesthetic. I’m also trying to honor my time in and trinkets from Paris. It’s taken me awhile to unpack and settle back in, but slowly my apartment is coming together. And when I look around at my imported Parisian touches, it makes me happy and feel connected to my “other” life.

I now have a mini library devoted to Paris...


I'm still figuring out how to display all my fabulous chocolate and macaron boxes, but my Ladurée Earl Grey candle, which was a gift, has prime space on my table...


I can drop earrings, elastics and whatnot into my little tray before dropping off to sleep. And the lovely perfume atomizer, a gift from Jo, gives me a happy pause...

You can't see it, but this little tray says "Paris", which I received as a gift before moving. But I like the other memorabilia... a little chocolate box from Un Dimanche à Paris, a coaster from the bar at the Ritz and my Louis Vuitton bear key chain—my very first "Vuitton" product, complements of Mel's awesome eye on her journey to Tokyo.

On my desktop, I keep my pens in the little cup I bought at Le Petit Atelier de Paris. And the post card behind it, of a woman stretching rapturously behind Notre Dame, reminds me of how many times I felt that sentiment, criss-crossing the Seine.

A la fin

Mes amis, it is with a very heavy heart I write this last post from my perch: in the corner of my lovely little treehouse, in the middle of Paris, the most beautiful city in the world. The sound of the rain on the zinc roof is romantic but, today, a bit melancholic; the view of Sacre Coeur blocked by the fog. I just took a last stroll up rue Montorgueil (trolling for food, comme d’hab), and the taxi arrives in 30 minutes.

It’s been a journey! Incroyable! Something I never dreamed would (could) happen to me. But it did. And I will carry these last 22 months in my heart for the rest of my life.

And, of course, this blog, the fact that you’re reading this right now, is part of the journey. I started God, I Love Paris as a way to stay connected to friends and family back home. It was a way to share my daily life and then became a way I filtered feelings and processed information. Incredibly, it lead to new friendships, both with wonderful people here in the city and all of you from Buenos Aires to Milwaukee, Sydney to Rambouillet. With all the chocolate boxes and Ladurée candles and fancy shoes I bring home with me, it is this blog that I am most grateful to have, for both the memories and connections.

So thank you. Thank you for sharing my journey and lending your support and being interested in and gracious about my world and generous with your time and thoughts. I can’t express enough how much it means to me.

But this is not it! I am not done with Paris, and I am not done with this blog. Oui, I will be posting again. Soon. So stay tuned—it might take me awhile to resurface but as we all know now: Paris is in my blood. I will be back.

Gros bis. xo

Weather check: something about the rain

As much as I love, crave, need sunshine and warmth, there’s something really special about the occasional rainy, unscripted day. I feel badly for all the parade-goers and picnickers who are getting rained out today, Bastille Day, holiday Wednesday, but I’m enjoying the morning’s downpours from the comfort of my treehouse.

Just when you thought he couldn’t get any cuter

A few weeks back, while I was traveling, Milo was so lucky as to have visitors. My good friend, Jo, brought her mom ’round to my treehouse so she could paint some Parisian rooftops. Lo and behold, Milo charmed is way into one of her darling watercolors.

Merci, Erin!

116 Steps

This is how many steps up it is to my treehouse. Nina counted, and Connie confirmed.

I wonder how many steps it takes to burn off a pastry?

Weather check: ask Milo

You know it’s warm outside when Milo takes to lounging around the apartment on his back.

Last night's moon

Looking out my little kitchen window, over the rooftops and through the chimneys... magic.

Dinner is served

As a single girl, it’s not often I come home to this.
Cheese and bread and dinner almost ready in the kitchen and a bottle of Bordeaux already open on the table.

But I could definitely get used to it.

Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!

I’m obsessed with the idea of Sunday today. One of my goals in coming to Paris was to embrace leisurely Sundays. It’s not an easy thing for me. One of the two precious weekend days is meant to be filled with fun, activity, exploring and adventure! Life’s too short to be “leisurely”! Leisure is for losers! Just kidding. But I am one of those fast-paced, full-agenda people who has a hard time sitting still.

But today (I’m grinning as I type), was a most leisurely—and lovely—day. When I woke up, it was nearly 10 o’clock—pure decadence. But Lionel and Sylvia had another one of their marathon dinner parties last night: six hours of eating, drinking and trying to follow French conversation. I was exhausted when I fell into bed at 2:30. So l slept in, knowing my only potential plan was to go to the flea markets with Jo.

In the end, we bagged. Blamed it on the weather. So then I tormented myself for a couple more hours, thinking I should go to a café and study French (last night made me realize just how pathetic my skills are), or go to another matinee (dying to see An Education and Nine), or take a walk or go for a bike ride (gotta burn some of those pastry calories). Get outside and do something. And in the end, I bagged again. Happily so. I have a fire going, I’ve been reading, Skyping and just spending time in my treehouse, literally looking at my things and enjoying them. I am doing nothing, and I am loving it. (So is Milo.)

I did make it out of the apartment in the morning—I needed firewood and veggies for My Vegan Monday. And it was the perfect reminder of why leisurely Sundays in Paris are so sublime.

Everyone goes out to the farmers markets or neighborhood boulangeries, fromageries, boucheries and epiceries, stopping at cafes for espressos, beers and/or oysters along the way.

It’s all so visually beautiful and decadent. It’s pure pleasure to look.


And the fresh bread and cheese and fish and flowers are always worth waiting in line for.



Because Sunday is a day for eating and loafing. For indulging your senses. For being leisurely.