Bloggity Bloo: Paris

The Second Installment of the Honeymoon Chronicles...really really late...

Besides SP & Babies & sometimes Kori, Paris is my all time favorite topic to talk about and dream about.

Paris is pretty dang romantacized. Everybody dreams of Paris right?

Well my love affair with Paris it didn't quite come to full bloom right away. My love affair with Paris has been a long time growing - no love at first sight for this girl and Paris.

My first trip to Paris was when I was like 12 yrs old. And at that age when you have been uprooted from your "normal life" Paris isn't much to see. Especially because you can't walk on the grass, there isn't a free bathroom within a 100 mile radius, French people aren't really into American kids, or tourists, or noises etc. I mean you have to pay to get into the playground. Which is basically the biggest injustice in life when you are 12 and really really bored. So needless to say the 1st trip was a little rough.

My second trip to Paris wasn't quite love at first sight either. But it was definitely a better situation. I was older, I had recently finished AP art history and was in love with all things art and Lourve. And while the idea of spending 6 weeks with only my younger brother as a companion (sorry Bro, I love you! And in retrospect I'm glad you were there) wasn't my favorite teenage dream summer, I wasn't totally against it. This, angsty teenage trip however is where that little fire in my heart started to grow for Paris. The people were still rude and you still couldn't walk on the grass, but at least McDonalds had a free, smokeless bathroom to remind me of home. And in 6 weeks. When you are living in Paris - not staying in a hotel, you become a Parisian. Whether or not you dress as well or can speak the language. Being an akward teenager allowed me to not be as well dressed. And letting my brother and mother struggle through the communication portion of the trip meant I didn't need to be able to speak the language to enjoy - that and the fact that if you feign French, the Parisians will often forgive your Americanness and then switch over to English and speak to you with loving disdain instead of just ignoring you. In those 6 weeks my mom and brother (while my dad was slaving away somewhere) we DID Paris. Like everything you could possible do in Paris. We hiked every spire and lit a candle in every single church. I took some of my best photography there (with FILM) and my eyes were finally opened to the amazing people, culture, art, and experiences this world had to offer me. My wanderlust was instilled young because of my Dad's propensity to foreign, lengthy sabaticals. For that I am forever grateful.

So when we were planning the epic european honeymoon I knew SP had to see Paris. Had to see the churches, and the people and the art and the history. She had to see through my teenage eyes and fall in love the way I had with the smells and tastes of other possibilities. She had to try every croissant and see every adorable cobbled street and love it the way my heart has grown to love every foreign corner.

Going back to Paris was like going back in time to find my teenage self and tell her that all of her dreams would come true. It was like finding familiar streets and loving all of the strangeness and familiarity at the same time. The Louvre was still ginormous and full of art and history and dreams and flashbacks to my AP Art History class. The Eiffel Tower was still towering and majestic and the best (and coldest) views of the city. The Churches were still full of mystery and awe and the lingering smell of incense and reminders of my history and my forever love of the Virgin Mary (the Catholic runs deep - as does the obsession with our Virgin Mother). Every twist and turn and chruch was still gorgeous and still perfect. The Parisan's were still rude (one instructed SP on the correct way to eat mussels - she wasn't thrilled about being corrected in public) and the bread and pastries were still the BEST.IN.THE.WORLD. Amen. Versailles was still a 25acre dream full of palaces and blistering feet and gilded frames.

I have literally 400 pictures from paris (397 to be exact) so this is the INSANELY slimmed down version.

Dream with me…