Letter From Les Cosmos

Lately, in my daydreams (which are admittedly quite vibrant), I've become deeply enamored of the idea that I should be in Paris for Thanksgiving. This notion is not altogether out of order, because I've spent a couple of Thanksgivings in France (although last year I was in Antwerp, and gosh, that'd be fine, too), but it is unfortunately altogether out of budget! My mother was a flight attendant and my father was a consultant to the aviation industry when I was growing up, and, contrary to expectation, I was no jetsetter-- seeing as the last place either of them wanted to go near on their day(s) off was an airport.

Ever since I could pay my own way I've tried to see as much of the world as possible, on the cheap and off the beaten path (although not too beaten; we're still talking cobblestones and cafes), with the lovely result that I've had some extraordinary adventures in some phenomenally intriguing locales (favorites: Lyon, Dubrovnik, Antwerp, Osaka). I find it terribly hard to resist splurging on a plane ticket whenever I have any money in the bank, especially when my not extravagant funds are already spoken for. So I'd resigned myself to absolutely no more trips for the foreseeable future and perhaps it's my admittedly "Bolter"-esque nature (this week's reading for pleasure: Nancy Mitford's In Pursuit of Love & Love in a Cold Climate), but I just can't get Thanksgiving in Paris out of my head. Although I've tried. And I'm not going, I can't, barring the sort of miraculous windfall that just wouldn't happen to me.

Given all of this backstory, you'll share my amusement then, that earlier this week, I received an unexpected letter from an Aunt in Mississippi who I very rarely hear from, enclosed with a guidebook to Paris ("We have some sandy soil over where the pecan tree was before Katrina... Found this book and thought you might enjoy it...") Of course I found this bizarre little package most welcome and fascinatingly curious! Yesterday, a friend got confused after misreading an email I sent referencing the subletter of my previous apartment, and when I explained, jokingly replied: "I was worried you were leaving for Omaha without me; or the 17th arondissement." So imagine my near-shock when, over lunch today, a good friend presented me with, for no particular occasion, the surprising gift of a breathtakingly gorgeous, lavish book on... My French Life.

And then while I was flipping through the afore-mentioned guidebook this afternoon, the acquaintance I was meeting with walked up and said, "What is the connection between you and France?"

If I only knew!

Comments

[Jessica]

so when are we leaving? i'll get my beret.

[Kari]

You are so my lifestyle hero. And I adore "In Pursuit of Love & Love in a Cold Climate"! We should lunch again soon, autumn-style.

[kim]

I'm going to be in Paris (my first visit ever) the second week of December, so I await news of your adventure and am ready to take notes! Also, I just finished re-reading "In Pursuit of Love & Love In a Cold Climate" and they are just too wonderful! ps: so glad that you enjoyed the recchuiti and loved your post about it.

[Elizabeth]

You have been summoned.

Resistance. Is. Futile.