La Greve. [The Strike.]

Today was an adventure.

So you may properly understand the scenario: I live in Le Vesinet, right next to the Le Vesinet-Le Pecq RER train stop. The RER is a suburban metro with the purpose of getting you actually to the metro lines in Paris. A typical day on the RER includes boarding on the :08, and arriving in Paris 20 minutes later. I can get to the major stops to transfer to various metros and consequently be pretty much anywhere in the city worth going to in 40 minutes. Not bad.

Today, the RER was on strike. Now, the French are known for striking, it's true. However, typically the metro lines strike, and they still actually run the lines, but maybe just 1 out of every four trains will run, so it makes you wait longer and makes you stuff into the metro car like sardines. But, still viable. Historically, the RER rarely strikes, and in the case that it does, will generally run one of each 2 or 3 trains. Today: the ran 1 of 2 trains from 7:30-9:30 a.m. and from 4:30-7:30 p.m. AND NONE IN BETWEEN!

I had made plans with a friend, Becca, to meet up and go to the movies. Then I had class to go to at 1:30, so I left the house and saw the RER pulling away from my stop (at 9:30 - assuming it was the 9:28 train); and I'd hop on the :38. NO.

After canceling plans with Becca, watching Glee to calm down, and eating a pain au chocolat, I spent some time in the French transportation website to figure this thing out. Was I even going to get to go to class? I really wanted to considering I quite like class, and had done my homework and everything!

My new route: Take Bus 19 from Le Vesinet - Le Pecq to the end of it's line. At that stop, Houilles de Carriers, there will be a regional SNCF train [services the entire Ile de France state] that I could take to Gare St. Lazare, to transfer to Metro Line 3 to transfer to Metro Line 2 in order to arrive at school at Place de Victor Hugo. O.K., here I go:

I get to my train/bus stop at 12:10, knowing that my bus leaves at 12:19 and another doesn't come through for half an hour. Turns out Bus 19 is the opposite side of the station. So, back down the road, up the stairs, over the bridge to the waiting Bus 19. 22 minutes later, I am at the end of the line where I follow the crowd to where the trains must be. Following signs, I make it to the correct platform. At this point, aside from trying to ignore the map of the aforementioned route in my head and it's huge inefficiencies, all is well. Lo and behold, an RER train pulls up, and everyone on the platform gets on. So do I. My reasoning skills tell me that since just the Poissy and St.Germain-en-Laye branches of the RER A are down, that it makes sense that the Cergy branch (where I now currently am) is running. Sure. Everybody else is doing it...

We pull into the stop, and I am confused. I had thought that because I was on the RER and obviously it was moving and other people were on it, that it would be following the course of the RER line. Thus, I believed that the stop in which everyone disembarked the train was Nanterre-Prefecture [I realize none of these location names mean a whole lot to you], and not my destination point, or really anywhere I knew how to navigate. Damn. [Pardon my French. : )]

My instinctive reaction was to get on the waiting train on the other side of the platform, go back to where I had just come from, and try again. Now, for a standardized test-type reading question: Do you know how I had screwed up? I had gotten on an RER train and not the SNCF regional train. That must be the problem, right?

Back at the Houilles de Carriers stop I had just come from, I had over to the platform where i had stood now 30 minutes before, and waited on the train I SHOULD have taken. Lesson learned: don't deviate from the plan when you have somewhere to be!

The correct train pulls up, but on the wrong tracks, which leads to my sprinting down stairs, around the corner, up the stairs to the [in]correct platform to board. Finally. Whew. "Hey, these are nice trains..."

We pull in to the exact stop I had just come from. Not the Houilles de Carriers one, Gare St. Lazare. Yeah, that one from the beginning of this blog post that was basically my 'home free' mark! I had taken the RER [train #1] to the correct stop, but didn't realize it, so took RER [train #2] back, and got on SNCF [train #3] to where I had already just been.

[Insert anxiety-induced perspiration here.]

Frustrated with my own stupidity, I got to metro line 3, which I took to Line 2, which I took to school, where I learned about ordering theatre tickets after 2 hours [normally a 40-minute trip] of "travel". I could have been in Germany or England by then!

Oh, yeah - and they're striking tomorrow, too.

Gobble, gobble. Jingle, jingle.

Happy Thanksgiving, family and friends!

This year, I have even more reason to be thankful for: YOU. [And layering techniques - brrr!]

What a surreal experience it is to wake up Thanksgiving morning not in my bed in Dallas, not with a planner-full of things to get done for school, and with a regular day's agenda... it was weird to go to class and try to describe American Thanksgiving to international friends, who all deemed our holiday contradictory.

I guess it is in a way. They seem to see the paradox in celebrating what one has by using all [hypothetically] of your resources in order to consume a feast. However, if you look back throughout biblical feasts, weren't they held in celebration of what one already has - potentially making a sacrifice of time, effort, finances - in order to properly honor an occasion? For example: Paul describes how necessary it is for the church to host her Bridegroom in all that she can pour out... and as the song in the Prince of Egypt depicts, "When all you have is nothing, there is a lot to go around!" Thus, I don't truly see any irony.

I was fortunate enough to celebrate twice this year - first at church with 175 Americans, French, varying populations from Africa and Asia, all come together to eat and be merry... until that one woman decided the event was in need of an emcee, and further found a microphone and talked into it for the entire night. I mean, come on! She's one of those that thinks of her answer to her own question when she asks you one; she literally repeatedly chastised the room of 175 adults [and a few children] to stop chatting with friends so that we could properly hear her and the background music... saywhat?!

Yikes.

Sunday was a special Turkey Dinner, too. [Though, admittedly, we celebrated with chicken.] I have made some neat friends [all '09 grads of Pepperdine] who have an apartment in the 7th arrondisement, a neat part of town just across from le Tour Eiffel. So, a fun group of 3 Brits, the Pepperdine gals and their boyfriends, and I, got down on some chicken, stuffing, mac'n'cheese, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, ratatouille, and creamed corn... and my wine and chocolate contribution, too. : )

These next two weeks should be interesting ones; the grandparents are visiting until Dec. 10. What this means: I may have some shifts cut short, and therefore have more free time! And, since Manfred, the grandfather [actually, Opa] is a retired professional chef, this also means I will be eatin' good in the neighborhood... and then, *drumroll* IT'S TIME TO COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!

It's the best of both worlds - the lights and decorations for Christmas have already started to go up here; the markets and festivals are in full swing, and the cafes have spiced blends in for the season! Then, I get to come visit good ole' Texas - where I won't get frostbite on my nose in the morning, and I can have some true southern comfort food, family and friends!

Yikes, Stripes.

I apologize for the duration in which I haven't written... I feel as though it takes a while for my creativity levels to refuel, and I was feeling quite unorganized and un-witty the last couple of weeks. As a result, this blog is a meandering through my thoughts. I am betting it might be a little too much of intimate look inside my head for some - others will get that corny movie scene where you can totally hear me saying these silly things I am about to write. Whatever, skip over it if you want; this is a diary blog without plot or sequence.

To catch up: since returning from London, I went to a retreat with the American Church in Paris to the ville of Houlgate in Normandie. We stayed right on the beach in a neat quasi-conference center that was really more like a dorm with large common areas. Growing up in the church, I experienced a number of lock-ins, youth retreats, church camp weekends, and the like. However, I have never before experienced the learning potential and dynamic of having an all-church retreat; families and youth, seniors and young adults - everyone came together to participate. As a young adult, I experienced fellowship with adults who have lived and seen more, with kids outside of a Sunday school atmosphere, and with other young adults who have matching struggles to mine. I encourage any of you who feel comfortable to encourage your church family to organize such a retreat.

What I took away from this experience was a refreshed, relaxed newness: spiritually, emotionally, and physically. There was no "church camp high" for me like I'd seek in 8th grade singing praise around the campfire; but instead there was fulfillment, continued longing to know more, and fabulous friendships made. Goodness gracious - if I have anything to be thankful for this Thanksgiving it is friends and family back home, and the young women of the ACP who can grow with and challenge me in my journey to trust in God.

I just got off the phone with my mom prior to this entry; a little Turkey Day chat. She helped me to realize something pretty interesting. You may or may not know this, but coming to Paris as an Au Pair to care for the children of a fairly wealthy family gave me some heavy conflictions. Yes, it is a bit of a dream, and on occasion a cush job. But coming from the whirlwind of Texas A&M University, where school, work and a women's service organization demanded compassion, earnest effort and selfless service got me to think "Am I really doing enough by going to Paris for this job? Am I a putz for not being in a more laborious field where I am directly serving the poor, the hungry, the unempowered?" Here's the answer: NO. I prayed super specifically over this position. Every prayer was answered so specifically it's pretty comical; the Lord MOVED in my heart and made some bold moves in my life.

How I got here:

I graduated from A&M not knowing what to do for the next step, and knowing that was OK. You know me, you know my heart - I love to plan. And for the first time in my life I had prayed over and decided to give God the time and the trust to leap into an unknown without closing any doors on my own. I prayed about a job search, and made my lists. I knew that after searching the corporate sector [not terribly extensively, I'll admit] that wasn't where I was being led at that time. I then checked out this whole au pair thing, with the romantic idea of being in Paris wearing fabulous shoes and sitting at a cafe with a bowl of cappucino reading a novel... and 6 weeks later I moved here. The bowl of cappucino has happened, with the novel once and with some good conversation another time; the fabulous shoes - well, they deserve a chance out, but with so much walking here... eh, I digress.

My point though is this: I am meant to be here. I have prayed for insight into His will, and this is what I have come up with [with the help of mom]: I am here to learn; about another culture, another language, about patience and selflessness with kids [yikes] and about what it means to stop trying to put my plans into motion. I have literally "planned" how neat it would be to have such-and-such apartment in D.C. with such-and-such semi-corporate job that sends me on travel for roughly 30% of the year; the gym that would be preferably on the same street as work so I could keep a locker and workout each morning still having the time to grab a smoothie or coffee on the way into work... there are drawings and lists of projects for the interior design of said apartment in D.C., how to organize the fabulous walk-in closet, the list goes on, I assure you.

WHO AM I? Why in the world did I "plan" all that? Now, in a year, if/when none of that happens I will be disappointed or some other slightly-less-than-exuberant emotion at what I should be ecstatic about because it is God's perfect plan for me. Will I never learn? But these are some of my struggles. I want to be the independent single girl again. Or not single... that would be fine. But I do know that as much as I look forward to a time of having my own place, I appreciate that I have a place at all; and that if absolutely 0% of the items on my list receive checkmarks, I have a place where Jesus is waiting for me to put down my planner, and take a chill pill.

Also, I was inspired to write a blog about fearlessness, as I realized the other day that there are many connotations to that word in my life here. Sometimes good ones: where I know that I can leap and land in the Louvre and if something isn't exactly as I imagined, well the worst-case scenario is that I go to the Tuileries gardens outside and people-watch. Not so bad. Also bad ones: I am not really so badass that I don't get scared. I get scared all the time; "Am I doing this right with the kids? Am I going to get caught doing somehting stupid that really never happens except for the one time when I was seen screwing up? Am I lost? Am I sticking to the familiar in order to not get lost and thus losing my sense of adventure? Am I losing my Spanish? When do I get to feel comfortable again? Am I longing for the dreaded complacency?!"

In case you were wondering, I am working through these questions, but though this is a blog that follows [a very indirect] path inside my head and heart, if you have insight, answers or where to look for answers, I would appreciate your sharing. I mean, that's why you're friends with me, right? [Family didn't get a choice; you're stuck with me. :)]

Recap: I am thankful for you, I am constantly getting knocked down a peg, I continue to seek answers, and you can help me out by talking with me. And I feel super narcisstic after this post, I guess because it was candid. I hope you still think I am cool.

Love.

Get ready, this is a long one.

London. Was. GREAT.

Friends and Family,

For those of you who hadn't known, I have been thinking that D.C. would make a fun post-Paris habitat. Well, it's still on the block, but man oh man, London is definitely next on the list.

We rented a flat at 7-8 Manson Place, a pretty hip side street in South Kensington, which was wonderfully close to The Natural History Museum, Victoria & Albert, The Science Museum, Kensington Palace and Hyde Park. We were blessed with a beautiful sunshiney week, with temperatures in the 60's, and rain only on Sunday.

So, in the spirit of a journal entry here is my week in London.

Monday:

Taking the Eurostar train fro Paris to London was a lot of fun. I only had to help with the kids a little bit, so I was able to enjoy the views, my "sleeping on trains and buses" playlist that I made in anticipation of traveling through Europe, and reading The Other Boleyn Girl. Absolutely fabulous book. I have heard the movie stank, and I believe it, but goodness gracious, if you haven't studied up on historical fiction, this is the place to start. [It's my favorite genre anyway.] I definitely look forward to similar trips by train in the future. Apparently flying here is cheaper, which I will probably do here and there, but I have always loved train rides. I think the first one I remember enjoying was when I was 15 and took an overnight from Paris to Zurich, and then after that when my family took an all-day trai from Fairbanks to Denali Park in Alaska. Super cool, and I hope to repeat the experience.

Getting into town was fun - I really enjoy taking longer cab rides when I arrive places [granted, if i am super tired from the flight or hungry, not so much] in order to take some breaths and not have to worry or plan anything, and also to get to see what's around me. That night for dinner we had the classic fish and chips with a John Smith smooth ale at the Zetland Arms Pub. The food was passable, but I have never before had a beer that was so flat. I mean, the carbonation is half the fun, right?

Tuesday:

Jennifer and I left with the kids to head to the Museum of Natural History, but as England apparently also had a school holiday, the lines were winding through the courtyard, out the gate and down the streets in order to get in. So, we bypassed that and headed to the Victoria & Albert Museum. [Just one block over.] V & A is incredible. Maybe that will be a place to look into jobs for the future - some sort of behind the scenes or marketing for the museum? That'd be great! I only had an hour or so while Jen took the kids to explore, so I checked out the most important exhibits: the famous fashion section and the jewelery one. The Materials & Techniques: Fashion exhibit was off the charts cool. Starting from British shoes of the 16th century and how pumps have evolved to today was neat. Men's suits, men and women's states of undress, women's ball gowns, cocktail dresses, and famous couture were studded throughout. And taking all of this in with the obvious design students in their own funky styles and sketchpads added to the experience. In fact, there was a part of the exhibit that showcased some up-and-coming designers and their design innovations [like plastic shoulder pads] from London Schools of Design. The jewelery room was neat, too - though I was reprimanded for taking photos. Darn.

After lunch I had the afternoon to go to Kensington Palace. This palace was constructed in the 16th century as a country home for joint monarchs William III and Mary II. This exhibit took me through the state rooms, various bedchambers, privy cambers, and outer rooms of the king and queen. [Having just read The Other Boleyn Girl kind of made these all come alive.] This is also the palace in which Princess Diana and Prince Charles lived, and where she lived after their divorce, and where her funeral cortege began [ended at Westminster Abbey]. Appropriately thus, there was an exhibit of her famous gowns and a short history for her. In addition, the Last Debutantes exhibit was great. They had displayed the history of being presented at court [dating back to those Queen's Ladies in Waiting at the Palace] and the end of the tradition in 1957. Sweet 50's dresses were displayed, a few common etiquette lessons, and even a waltzing presentation. Afterwards I headed around Hyde Park [the largest park in London that used to be a game reserve for the King's hunting trips] to check out Prince Albert's Memorial and Royal Albert Hall. Both were neat, and it was good to spend some time in the fresh air before going back to the apartment for the kids' evening routine.

Wednesday:

Learning our lesson, Jennifer and I decided to be a little bit strategic for the Museum of Natural History. Meaning, at 9:30 I went and stood in line until the doors opened, getting us into the museum at about 10:15 and with minimal bored-child-fussing in line. :) Then I got to explore the dinosaur exhibit, which was cool, but having been spoiled by my trip to the Smithsonian in D.C. in May, wasn't quite as impressive. However, the highlights were definitely the British takes on how dinosaurs become extinct. Theory No. 1: that they were abducted by aliens. Theory No. 2: whilst one dinosaur attempted to teach the game of cricket to the others, they all died of boredom. [Accompanying political cartoons can be found on facebook in the London Calling album.] The Human Biology exhibit was graphic. And I mean (porno)GRAPHIC. Yikes. [I thought of taking a picture to show how British presentation and American euphemism are nothing alike, but I couldn't bring myself to be seen taking a photo of the "conception" display!]

The new Darwin Centre, which had just opened in September displayed a couple of neat exhibits, where an artist had captured historical photographs of various emotions and explained how once could tell that a child was suffering by the "mouth widely opened in a peculiar manner, giving it a squarish shape." Who knew? There was also the vaguely offensive video projection showing an African man holding up an ape... again, British tastes are SO different from their American parallels. The Geological and Jewelery exhibit was again neat, and showcased a bunch of diamonds that in regular light sparkle as we know them to, and in ultraviolet light give off that cool glow-in-the-dark effect. The ecological exhibit showed a ring of an 800 year-old Seqouia tree, and the most magnificent part was just enjoying the architecture.

Then I left and had lunch in Parliament Square, between the House of Parliament [at the base of Big Ben and in sight of the London Eye] and Westminster Abbey. Both of these were closed, but it was still cool to get pictures and examine the outside. After some shopping and visiting at Harrod's, I went back to the apartment to grab those kiddos and we went to Princess Diana's [over-crowded] memorial playground.

Thursday:

Really fun day at Buckingham Palace. I visited the Queen's Gallery to see their brand-new exhibit The Conversation Piece. This was an exhibit of paintings revolving around the aesthetic lifestyle of living at court; they depicted parties, dances, the Queen's maids, the King's steeds, and for an artist who usually doesn't enjoy classical art that al begins to look the same, it was remarkably entertaining. Oh, and I picked up some fabulous postcards in the gift shop that are the Royal Family's family portrait - complete with awkward uncles and wayward children. I have some friends in mind who will probably enjoy the tacky-ness of these postcards as much as I do. :)

Friday:

At this point the only main attraction I had yet to visit was the Tower of London. Fabulous. And well worth the outrageous pricing. I know I probably should have known more about the Tower of London [apart from it's where they tortured and executed people] but history in American schools just doesn't do the rest of the world justice in it's notes. I hadn't realized that the Tower of London wasn't just one building like any other museum. It is actually a fortressed group of towers. One is the Bloody Tower, famous for it's torture; another is the White Tower which housed the Great Hall for balls and important meetings; the Beauchamp Tower was the prison; the Jewel House had been estates and other quarters; and there are even homes in which courtiers lived. [And that now the honored few families of the Yeoman Warders reside in. When the attraction closes and the tourists go home or to hotels, the people of the village actually live there and the Tower comes back alive with a completely new vibe.

The first tour [cool audio guide narrated by some famous Brit I hadn't heard of] told me all about the water gate that was used not only to hold out boats approaching from the river, but also was later named the Traitor gate, through which traitors and enemies of the state could easily be transported to the Bloody Tower where they would be tortured for information or confessions by use of varying disgusting measures. Really interesting to read about, until you get to the part where your mind gives you a mental picture - or worse, a mental sound effect. [Shiver.]

Did you know that King Henry the VIII once said that the day there were no longer ravens at the Tower of London is the day that it would crumble and London would be no more? Pretty heavy prediction, and so now ravens are kept in cages just outside the White Tower in order to maintain the status quo, not that they're superstitious or anything.

Inside the White Tower the curators had opened a new exhibit of two sets of armor that were made for and worn by King Henry VIII himself. One was from when he was a younger man, and one was from shortly before his death at age 55, when it was apparent that he had become quite rotund. It was a fantastic showing of armour, weapons, and even some fancy schmancy ballroom type clothing. Best part: the collection was called 'Henry VIII: Dressed to Kill.' Chuckle, chuckle.

The Crown Jewels were incredible! I had to wait in line for about 15 minutes just to get into the jewel hall, but once inside, it really wasn't all that crowded, which was fabulous. I think that was why they had the line outside, and it allowed me to go by the crowns and the orb and the scepters a few times, as well as to step back and read their information. Did you know that you view the Crown Jewels on a conveyor belt? I mean, it definitely makes sense, as otherwise I can imagine how plenty of tourists would stand gawking and not give others the chance to see, but it's still a bit comical that they literally move you along like that.

Saturday:

Saturday I went to Holland Park, and stopped into to two "charity shops" along the way. These are basically thrift stores, but with high quality stuff, and the proceeds benefit a specific charity - I guess similar in a way to Goodwill, but also along the lines of CARE or something. The first shop had some adorable polka-dot 50's era [but brand new] shoes, but of course they were not my size. It got me in the door though, and I bought a cool wrap sweater, a fabulous beaded gypsy belt, and a super cheap trashy little chick-lit novel about a woman in Manhattan who starts a business about getting kindergartners into private schools... it was entertaining enough. And hey, my purchase helped out a philanthropy dedicated to fighting women's poverty in Romania by contributing to the building of a new wave of agriculturalism. The second shop benefitted a HIV/AIDS research fund, and I got a wonderful new coat - it's pea green and snappy. :)

Sunday it rained all day, so I took the time to go back to sleep and read, and not leave the apartment. It was a really great vacation, and of course it was also work, but the kids have never behaved better, and the weather was wonderful. Everyone spoke English [which I forgot how much I enjoy that]

We came back to Le Vesinet Monday, and a quick thanks to Papa and Anne, Mom and Dad, Pam and Kyle and Lois, and Alyssa for sweet birthday gifts and cards or letters. That all made for a really great rest of my Monday.

Well, I am headed to Normandy for the weekend in about an hour and a half, so I better ske-daddle and get my stuff together.

More to come, and much love!

My 23rd Birthday and a Trip to London.

Friends and Family,

I appreciate the well wishes and am fortunate to have had a great weekend and a few things coming up to be excited about.

In celebration of my birthday, the Eiffel Tower people created and displayed a new light show Friday night. The typical light show lasts for a few minutes at the top of the hour, and the Tower sparkles. It's definitely a pretty neat sight, but for the next month, following the premiere Friday night, they are showcasing a fairly psychadelic light show. There were patterns and all colors of the ROYGBIV, sometimes reminiscent of Las Vegas, others of a Lisa Frank era bygone. Add some tripped-out flame-throwers into the mix, and voila - a pretty spectacular beginning to a birthday weekend.

[Disclaimer: the light show is actually being conducted to celebrate the anniversary of the Eiffel Tower, and not my birth.]

Saturday presented a fun-filled afternoon of shopping and exploring, mostly at Chatelet, which is a huge mall connected to the metro station, and a cool spread of shops and cafes and such above ground in the surrounding vicinity as well. Carey was sweet enough to buy me some birthday lunch at a neat pizzeria. Oh, and I got a great couple of things at H&M that I shan't mention considering there may have been some Christmas gift finds for some certain friends and/or sister. :) I had a fun day Sunday at church, working through the impossibilities of Jesus in Mark 10, and the disconnect that we face between being unflinchingly compassionate and being utterly obedient. It's another of those impossibilities that we must not 'balance' these aspects of our faith, but that we must be 100% of each. Obviously, it's impossible for us; and why it is so stinking incredible that we have a Lord of impossibilities.

And now I am in London.

All of French schools have Toussaint [All Saints] Holiday break for the next week and a half, so I have taken off [with the family] to London for the week! We are staying in a pretty rad flat in South Ken [so posh using the abbrevs.] which is close to the coolest museums and only a couple of tube stops from the other major to-do's in London. Plus a few of things that aren't on my personal list, but that are still fun, I will get to do here and there with Jennifer [the boss] and the kids during the mornings. We're here for a whole week, so that gives me six afternoons to get a chunk of this town under my belt.

I'll keep you posted.

[Get it?]

Crisis Averted.

Saturday night I came back upstairs after Indian chicken for dinner and a partially-watched 90's movie called Sliding Doors, to find a horrible-looking blue screen on my laptop. Some have referred to this as the blue screen of death. Well, it was.

This blue screen was staring at me saying in that weird, programmer font that if this is the first time I am receiving this screen, that I should just restart, and life will be ok. It doesn't actually tell you that life will be ok, but I do feel as though that is virtually implied. I mean, it was my first time getting the screen. I would totally understand if this is like the third time I got the blue screen and re-booting didn't work. Nevertheless, my rebooting didn't work. In fact, I feel like this only made it worse. The blue screen at least gave me some information [that I should have read more carefully, and perhaps even written down before attempting the restart]. This new, imposing, black screen only showed me a handful of words. "Hard Drive 0 not recognized. F1 to retry boot." People, F1 did nothing but beep at me.

So, dead laptop. I grieved and mourned, I really did. If you ever saw that Making the Video of Britney Spears' Lucky - [I assume no one actually watched the video once you saw the making of] well, you have a mental image of what I looked like. I SOBBED. Over a laptop. I mean, one might have thought I was horribly depressed or something. I was.

This silly little piece of technology is kind of everything to me. It is communication to and from home, it is Facebook and blogs, it is online TV, it is my PDF books, it is even my Song of Songs study series. Travesty.

Sunday morning I woke up in denial. No way did that really happen. [It is one of the steps of grief, after all.] I quickly moved on to angry, and then to rushed because I needed to know the weather forecast in order to get dressed for the day. If I had had a working laptop, I would have known a light jacket was an inappropriate choice for such a chilly downtown day in Paris. [Bitter?]

Well, I had plans to check out another church. The American Church of Paris, right on the Seine. Carey had come with me, and after a great musical worship - I experienced something I haven't in a while. Some really awesome worship through prayer. I remember back in my youth ministry days at Trinity [home church], learning to understand how to worship in ways outside of Sunday-morning songs. I will also admit that I haven't done such a good job of my own worship through prayer, as mine tend to be "Help me, Help me, Help me" and not enough "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you." [Credit: Ann Lamott in Traveling Mercies.] But we opened up a pretty awesome floodgate: prayer for the church body, for each member's ministries, for hearts and open-minds, for Paris' working poor, for the orphaned children, and for true movement as the body of Christ. Really, truly cool stuff; and the sign of sincerity that I look for when being churched.

A great gospel lesson and sermon later, meeting some new friends in coffee fellowship was the icing. I love how many study groups, discussion events, and 'niche market' followings this church offers. I am looking forward to that fellowship for sure. Carey and I are pumped for our new Sunday plans, and participating in the all-church retreat to Normandy that is coming up in November. We had a picnic in Champ de Mars, went to St. Germain-en-Laye for a movie, and ended a fabulous day of revelling in what the Lord has done for me. We're talking direct results of prayer - fellowship, a church family and true spirits to befriend. Praise Him for that. [And thank you to any and all of you who may have been praying with me!]

So I get home and my laptop is still dead. I pray about it and realize that I am fortunate enough that this home has another computer I can use, and that really instead of curling up in bed with my laptop for some online TV or Facebook, that I should be directing my time in more productive ways. I pray for and receive peace about the whole deal. It's just a thing.

Luis [boss-man] agrees to take it to IT at his office the next day, where they push the button and it turns on. IT TURNS ON. No blue screen, no black screen, no robot font. All is well.

Thank you, Jesus, for realigning my priorities. And for giving me my laptop back. I get it now.

I'm Impressed.

Thursday I successfully baked a French quiche from scratch.

This morning I made Nutella crepes for breakfast.

What's next? Croissants? Beignets?

One can only hope.