trying something new

There are a few things that I do with little inhibition or reserve. Cutting my hair is one of those things. It may seem trivial but it is my philosophy that experimenting with your hair is easy and if something is messed up it always grows back. My hair style is the one style I have control over. When I was in London my sister and I both got our hair cut for free at the Toni&Guy Salon Academy. We were basically final projects for the students. It was nice to get a free hair cut and I was in need of one so it worked out. As that style grew out, though, I liked it less and less. A couple of weeks ago I decided it was time for a change, something very new and very different. When I was in France the first time (6 years ago) I really wanted to get my hair cut here. It never worked out then but today I was finally able to fulfill that dream.

If there is anything the French do really well it's luxury. Usually you see this need for satisfaction in food and clothes but I learned today that that same desire for luxury is seen at the coiffeurs. When I first came in they took my coat and instead of a shapeless cape they gave me more of a dressing gown to put on over my clothes. I was offered "un café ou un thé" which I gracefully declined. They then washed my hair. I have to admit that getting my hair washed is one of my favorite parts of the hair cutting experience. This particular wash was fantastic. The chair I was sitting in was actually a massage chair and instead of just a quick wash the guy massaged the conditioner into my scalp. If I ever become really rich I think I may pay to have someone wash my hair. Any who, the actual cutting was very standard although she used a razor for most of the cut but I think that was mostly because of the style I requested. Over all it was a fantastic experience. I should note that I did end up cutting off a lot of hair. I hope you all like it!

give me five...up high...

...down low. That's right, I would like to dedicate this post to the universal High Five. Everyday when I pick Jack up from school he says goodbye to his friends. On almost every occasion the farewell consists of a high five. I love to watch these little 8 year old boys as they clumsily give each other a high five. I always tend to remember all my failed attempts at giving high fives. I've decided that high fives are something that everyone fails at at one point or another. There is something about the coordination of two hands making contact mid air that has the tendency to go awry. There are also those moments when you over do a high five and you end up with a hand that feels like it is going to fall off. Most elusive of all is the moment of a perfect high five. Those moments are never easily reproduced but they are always remembered.

from big city life...

...to small town living. I was talking to my mom the other day via skype (the best thing ever!) talking about my eventual return to the States. She was giving me a hard time about wanting to leave France to come home. As an example she started telling me about all the political brouhaha going on currently and implied that no one in their right mind would want to leave France for endless debates on healthcare bills and approval ratings.

I'm sure if I were still living in DC I would be overly informed on all the political goings on. Nothing against all the politicos out there but when that's all any one ever talks about it's hard not to know it all. It isn't that I don't read the news, I check BBC and CNN daily and I'm up to date on all the major topics but after DC I feel slightly detached. I've decided it isn't a bad thing though. It gives me a chance to figure out how much I really care about things like politics.

I don't really care for politics. I will remained informed so that when my input is necessary I can contribute but that is as far as it goes.

how French can you get?

On my way home from the grocery store the other day I saw this man riding his bike. I was able to snap a picture on my phone. When I think of France this is what I see.

going up?

For as long as I can remember I've always had this thing about elevators. They freak me out. I can remember going to visit my mom in the hospital after she had my brother and being so scared of the huge hospital elevators. I have always been afraid of one day, stepping on to an elevator only to have it stop mid trip resulting in me becoming stuck for hours on end.

Yesterday something like that happened to a friend of mine. He got on the elevator for what should have been barely a minute and then 45 minutes later he finally emerged annoyed and hungry. He told me about it over gchat right after it happened. I laughed of course, who wouldn't, but then last night as I slept my subconscious took over. All night I dreamed about being stuck in an elevator, going up and down, up and down, not being able to get out. It was horrible. It's not that I'm claustrophobic...well, maybe a little, but I think it's knowing that after pressing that button, you no longer have any control over what the elevator does. That's what scares me.

out and about

I took the opportunity of a free Saturday (the kids were with their dad) to hop a train and go visit Strasbourg. Since I am so close I figured I should probably go up there and see what its all about.


Fortunately for me, Strasbourg is known for more than just the EU headquarters. It is home to one of the more well known European cathedrals. One of the things I love about living in Europe is how old everything is. It was cool in DC to go to sites that were a couple hundred years old but the cathedral in Strasbourg was built over a 300 year period from 1100-1400. There is nothing like that in the states. Its a beautiful building with your classic Gothic architecture. Inside there is an astronomical clock which is amazing and was used to calculate Easter.


As with most towns and villages in Alsace there was a distinct feel with the cobbled streets and the timber framed houses. There is a specific part of Strasbourg called Petite-France, or Little France. It is the quintessential Alsatian neighborhood. Though, as cute as the cobbled streets were my feet were killing me by the end of the day. Now I know why you don't see cobbled streets any more.


I found an ice cream stand with blood orange sorbet. It was so yummy. One more thing I love about European cities, you can always find an ice cream stand. I remember once in DC I wandered all over downtown with my roommate trying to find an ice cream shop. It was near impossible (once we did find one it was a really good place and still one of my favorite ice cream shops in DC).

I've created a photo album on Facebook so please, go check out more pictures.

no place like home

After a bout of homesickness this past week I have come up with some things that I really miss from life before I came to France.

Cooking with my roommates. This would usually happen on Sunday after my roommate had invited people over and we would frantically try and come up with a meal. it always turned out though.

Running by the Potomac. There are plenty of places to run here but there is something about running towards DC at sunset. absolutely gorgeous.

Costco hot dog runs with co-workers. 'nuff said.

Lazy Saturdays spent watching cheesy made-for-TV movies on ABC family.

Going to parties. this may seem ironic to some, usually I would go kicking and screaming. I've never felt like I was any good at negotiating large groups of people and DC definitely challenged me.

Coming home from work on Fridays knowing that for the next two days I wasn't required to do anything.

Visiting my brother and sister-in-law in New York. It's great that I can still visit family here but some days I think I miss New York just as much as I miss DC.

The Arlington Public Library. Books and dvds in English that I could keep for almost as long as I wanted.

Kebab Palace. The place is ghetto but the food is oh so yummy.

Standing around in the kitchen with my roommates talking about anything and everything from boys to work to how we were someday going to open a restaurant together.

It's possible that after writing this I am even more homesick and here I was hoping it would help. Maybe next time I will write about what I will miss when I go back to the states.