Bonjour mes amis!

So much to write about . . . .

We returned from our fabulous European Va-cay last week, and I have loads to unload about.

SKINNY JEANS AND FLATS – A WINNING COMBINATION

First off, let me say that both my legs, my husband and my non-arthroscopic knee doctor are going to be thrilled with the Parisian fashionistas. They were ALL in skinny jeans and flats! It was like an 80s flashback reunion. I mean, I saw like 10 women in heels the whole time I was in Paris and they looked out of place.

I expect this to catch on with the masses in Utah in about 2 years (I know some ppl in Utah wear this, but they are either a) shopping at the Gateway Mall and have a fake Louis VItton handbag or b) living in Southern Utah, and never made the transition to “boot-cut” flared jeans 10 years ago . . .

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AU NATURAL

Second – the Parisians are natural beauties. Hardly any of them wore make up – pretty much the only people who are “made-up” over there are the Americans and the Germans. All the lovely olive skinned idyllic Paris femme-fatales were eating croissants and sipping espressos from tiny cups that resembled my nieces tea party set for her dolls. It was all quite fabulous.

They just looked so amazing – not "made up" . . . but totally put together. You know how in the states during the grunge era, so many of us tried to spend time looking like we just rolled out of bed; but really we spent a lot of time looking like we spent no time?

Yeah – it wasn’t really like that . . .

But it did look like their hair had been wind-blown and then tied back out; more for pragmatics than perfection. But that’s just it – it was perfection! The humidity of the French climate made supple curls around the face – softening their striking features and giving them an almost ethereal look. . . (well, as ethereal as on can look while smoking a cigarette, I suppose).

Like I said, little to no make-up. . . in fact, the Americans that were “done up” looked so out of place. Like they were wearing stage make-up in the middle of the afternoon . . . “American in Paris” take fourteen!

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I love American toilets . . .

French women aren’t fat and the men are downright "imo" looking ...

Danny and I slept 12 hours the fist night there – probably could’ve slept longer but my dad wanted to wake us up.

Yoga feels good anywhere I do it – even in a corner and Cincinatti International Airport.


It drove me crazy that I couldn’t speak the language. . . on a similar note, my husband is much more of an extrovert when he's speaking french.