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Archive for the ‘France’ Category

The best time to go to Paris

Anytime is a good time to go to Paris. That said, He-weasel and I have talked a lot about the date we will go and we have had a lot of back and forth about when is the best time to go to Paris. March is a great month because flights are really cheap ( $420 round trip from NYC and $540 round trip from L.A.). Rooms are much cheaper in March too, as much as 90 to 100 Euros a night cheaper.

Last time we were there it was March and gray, overcast, and cold. We needed to carry coats everywhere we went. Also, the trees were bare and not a single flower was growing. Paris is still beautiful in late Winter, to my mind there is no place better to be in later Winter than Paris but it is still Winter.

The song “April in Paris” makes it sound like April in Paris is all spring time, daffodils, and Audrey Hepburn in blossom pink suits and buttercup yellow hats that look like over sized macarons but it can be rainy, gloomy and gray. Don’t get me wrong— I love rainy, gloomy and gray but we want to walk in Paris with Lily and we don’t want to be carrying umbrellas, rain hats and have a wee wet Westie. The upside of April in Paris there are still great room rates and flights to be had—and April is our anniversary and yes there are daffodils, cherry blossoms and bits of green to be seen.

I explained all of this to He-weasel and I was willing to sacrifice great weather for great prices He-weasel is not. He-weasel said that this time he wants to see Paris in full bloom. He also wants weather good enough not to need to carry coats, umbrellas, or scarfs. He says we can delay celebrating our anniversary for a month or celebrate it twice.

So, May it is. But prices are up in May and our budget remains the same. What is a weasel to do? The genius, generous, cupcake baker supreme and expat, Leesa (with some help from her tres gentile homme), took it upon herself to find us a fantastic three-star hotel in the heart of the 6th arrondissement that has a warm bienvenue for small dogs at an exceptionally low price. We will be getting a Superior room at a better price than we could have gotten for a standard rooms at comparable hotels—and we will even may have a view of Notre Dame. I am not announcing on the blog where we are staying as it would be a bit like putting up my home address and telephone number on the blog. Wouldn’t it?

Update on Lily prep for Paris: We have gotten very generous babysitting offers from some of the expat readers I envy. He-weasel and I cannot thank you enough. Thanks to you we might make it to a museum or two while we are in Paris. When I told Lily that she might have an afternoon or two with some of you she licked my face which is her way of saying, “C’est fantastique!”

Lily’s vet gave us a perscription for a tranquilizer for the flight. Her European microchip has been ordered. Deja Pseu has generously offered to loan us her Sherpa dog carrier so Lily has a snug and safe place to spend the flight. Lily sends more licks of love to you, Deja.

Lily is hoping for a little update in her wardrobe for her first trip to Paris. A jaunty flowered collar, a tutu, and maybe a spring coat. Okay, it is me that wants those things for her. Well, it will be her first time in Paris and she should be appropriately attired for her debut to French society. Oui?

More info on When to Go to Paris and descriptions of Paris in March, April, or May.

How you get from Sedona to Paris in three hours

In April He-weasel and I will be celebrating our 17th anniversary and that is a really big deal for us. Trust me, I have done my best to screw it up and make He-weasel leave me and he didn’t do it and the last couple of years have been sooooo bad that we didn’t really celebrate our anniversary for the last couple of years so we want to compensate and celebrate with something special. Sure, we went to dinner, got cards and there were flowers sent to me by my weasel but that was the extent of it.

So, I decided that we should do something special for our anniversary.

1. I thought, hey, we have always wanted to go to Sedona and have never been. I looked at the L’Auberge de Sedona website and the rooms looked nice and I asked He-weasel if he wanted to go to Sedona. “Yeah, sure that sounds good….Uh, can Lily come? “Yes, Lily can come.”

2. I looked at TripAdvisors.com reviews of L’Auberge de Sedona and found some less than lovely reviews and made me wonder what we would do in Sedona anyways. I don’t want to go hiking or up in a hot air balloon and I am not a woo-woo gal so we would not be visiting any vortexes of power. So what would be do beyond eat, sleep, spa and etc.?

3. When I thought of ‘eat, sleep, spa and etc.’ I thought of a book that Elizabeth Gilbert could write or of Napa. I asked He-weasel, “Hey, what about Napa?” “Yeah, sure that sounds good….Uh, can Lily come? “Yes, Lily can come.”

4. I checked out two very nice hotels in Napa, Auberge du Soleil and Calistoga Ranch, and discovered that we would be paying $650-$1250 for a non-suite room and then there would be the flight, the rental car, dinner at French Laundry, spa treatments, room service and wine. It was then that I realized that a four day/three night at Calistoga would cost as much as a week long trip to Paris, as long as we didn’t stay at George V.

5. I asked He-weasel if he would rather spend a week in Paris than a weekend in Napa but first I gave him the estimated figures of our weekend getaway to wine country and explained how we could do Paris for just a few hundred more. He answered, ” Yes, of course, Paris over Napa. But, can Lily come?” “Oui, elle peut.

6. So now we are planning a trip to Paris for the spring. We have read that we can take Lily almost everyplace with us in Paris which is great news. The first hitch in our planning is that we don’t know what we will do with Lily when we go to museums. We can’t take her in the museum. I understand why other dogs can’t go in but I just don’t understand why they won’t let me expose my dog-aughter to great art. She wouldn’t pee on the paintings, maybe on the statues but it is easy to clean marble. Right?

Any of you Parisian readers interested in Lily-sitting while He-weasel and I do an afternoon at the Louvre? I am starting a sign up sheet for those interested. Blood-tests, FBI/Interpol background checks, fingerprinting, extensive interviewing, ten references, and up to date animal CPR is required for all applicants. Also, the applicant chosen to care for Lily while we are at the Louvre needs to have a huge bag of treats, an appreciation of puppy kisses and be prepared to fall in love.

7. Now I am doing one of my favorite things, I am shopping for Paris hotels. I am happy to discover that many Paris hotels happily accept furry-children. We are wanting to stay in the 6th arrondissement. Last time we were in the 7th. This time we want to be more in the middle of the action. Any suggestions? We are presently considering Hotel d’Aubusson, Hotel Le Placide or Hotel Luxembourg Parc. Anyone stayed at any of these? Tips, S’il vous plaît?

One half secrets/One half new Lily photos

I cannot tell you how much I am loving all the secrets you are sharing with me. Since I am asking you all to tell me your secrets to enter my I love my bloggers Valentine’s day contest” I thought is was only fair I tell you some secrets of my own :

1. Every time I see another dog I say to myself or to He-weasel, “Not as cute as Lily.”

2. When I get mad I am prone to giving a certain someone the silent treatment( and it is not Lily).

3. Costco, Home Depot and other big box stores bring out the elitist, snob and future expat in me.

4. I do Google an ex. Unhappily he is a low-tech guy and I can find nothing on him. I think I am just checking to make sure there is no wedding announcement in the NY Times. As long as I don’t find one I get to imagine that he is alone, miserable and unloved and that brings me a certain joy. I do understand that just because I have never found a wedding announcement doesn’t mean that he is an old and unhappy bachelor while I am happy, happily married and not old.

5. When I feel in need of escape I go online and shop at J.Crew, search for Paris apartments, and look at before and after pictures on cosmetic surgery web sites. Nothing sooths me like a charm bracelet, an apartment overlooking the Seine, and pictures of what liposuction can do except maybe all of the above and a glass of wine, some chocolate and a foot massage.

6. When I took the Metra in Chicago I always hoped I would get off the train before the conductor would get to me to punch my ticket. It only happened three times but each time I was extremely happy as if I had really gotten away with something.

7. When He-weasel talks about work sometimes I do what I on occasion accuse him of; I “uh-huh” him. There are only so many stories that I can take that involve company acronyms.

8. Against my own better instincts I have started watching “Dr. Who” and the shocking thing is that I like it. Please don’t tell anyone. Oh, but, I HATE Dr. Phil. Actually hate is not a big enough word for how I feel about the glibness and flipness Phil brings to people’s real suffering.

9. At least once a year I eat an apple fritter and Popeye’s chicken( not necessarily together). I had my apple fritter for 2009. I might have another one before the year is done.

10. I treat my glasses I wear for driving like total crap, I throw them into my purse willy-nilly and because of that they are scratched up and ruined. My sunglasses I make sure to wrap in a eyeglass cleansing cloth and then in their case.

11. I am the one woman alive who doesn’t LOVE Sex and the City. I have not seen all the episodes. And, I don’t identify with any of them women in it. There, I said it. Do I have to revoke my uterus and estrogen now?

12. I feel tremendously guilty for not staying in touch with my Nanny and her husband and I fear that they both are dead now. I am a horrible human being and I am sure one day when I am old I will have my lack of kindness reciprocated.

13. I do not answer my home phone ever. Actually, I have become a phone hater thanks to my mother. Just the ring of the phone makes me jump as I fear it might be her. I have PTMD, Paranoid of Telephoning Mother Disorder.

14. When He-weasel and I lived in Chicago we went to Sybaris a lot. Sybaris is a hotel meant for adults and adult activities. We usually just rented the room for the afternoon and every so often we spent the night but we rarely slept there.We always got the suite with the swimming pool, jacuzzi, sauna, and steam room in the room. There are no windows in these pods of love and no telephones or room service for an experience of total and absolute privacy. And, just FYI we never-ever-ever used the harnessy thing in the closet that I thought was a device to help handicapped people get into the swimming pool and it turns out it was not and that there was an attachment on the ceiling over the bed to attach it to.

There are lots of romantic hotels in Southern California but none of them come with a swimming pool in the room. No more afternoons as Arielle and He-weasel as Prince Eric playing under the sea. “Life is better down where it’s wetter, take it from me.” We really miss Sybaris.

Now that I have shared fourteen of my secrets with you let me remind you to enter the I love my bloggers Valentine’s day contest” if you haven’t already (be sure to post your secrets in yesterday’s post in order to be eligible for the drawing). The winners will be announced on Valentine’s day.

I’m throwing my arms arounds Paris…

As you have followed this blog for a while will know I am a huge fan of Morrissey. I first heard the Smith’s when I was 15 years old and sad, depressed and alienated and as soon as I heard his melodic melancholy and melodrama I felt as if I had found the soundtrack to my life, I was right–I did. My love of Morrissey is not merely about a preference but has become a part of the way that I identify myself. When I say I love Morrissey it is the same kind of identifier as I am a wife, writer, friend, or francophile in other words my love of Morrissey is essential to who I am. My love is not the personal kind. I have never written a letter to him and I don’t love him in that way, but I love him as you do someone who has always been there for you and never let you down( well, I was briefly disappointed when the Smiths broke up).

The New York Times wrote, “Morrissey isn’t just any singer: he has become one of the defining rock stars of the past few decades by virtue of his grand voice, his grander songs, and his charming habit of playing with melodrama”. His influence is felt worldwide through the countless artists that cite him as their primary inspiration. “Years of Refusal” is a masterful work that finds Morrissey and the band at their best with a muscular sound and the inimitable voice and lyrics of a legend.”

Morrissey has a lot to teach about life, love and even business. It turns out that Morrissey’s songs have been used in a class to teach business at a college in England called “Business Relationships The Morrissey Way“. I am not kidding about that and if I knew I could have gotten an MBA by listening to Morrissey I might have done it. But as Morrissey so brilliantly said, ” I was looking for a job, and then I found a job and heaven knows I’m miserable now.”

Over the years my love and appreciation for this man, his music and his writing has only deepened. To this day if I hear The Smith/Morrissey in an elevator, store or on the radio I will not leave until the song is over. I have worn out tapes. I have replaces Cd’s that I’ve unintentionally scratched. I feel sure that when I am in 80′s I will still be humming “Panic” to myself and I have asked those around me that when I die I want “Asleep” as well as Pachelbel’s Cannon be played at my funeral.

I saw Morrissey perform in Chicago in December 2007 and after all these years it was better than I could have dreamed. The audience was filled with young, old, those too young to have heard the Smith’s the first time around and those who were bald and grey. All of us had one thing in common, a love of a man with a way with words. It was a like a sing along. Everyone sang their hearts out to “Panic” and “This Charming Man”. But, but when he got to “Please Let Me Get What I want” I sang my heart out. See, I had just two weeks ago had my last insemination. I sang that song like a prayer. I somehow hoped that by singing this song with Morrissey and a room full of believers that maybe I would get what I want. I, of course did not get what I wanted, but fret not Morrissey has a song to deal with that too.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0sQkP_MiZk]
Morrissey has a new album, “Years of Refusal” that comes out on February 16th. His single from this album, “I’m throwing my arms around Paris” which Morrissey calls a “Cosmopolitan Hymn to architecture” is a song that gets to the crux of the love that is possible for the city of lights. “I’m throwing my arms around Paris…because only stone and steel accept my love.” Please listen to it for yourself after all it is Morrissey and he is singing about Paris. And, I must tell you that my darling Morrissey will be on Jimmy Kimmel Live tomorrow night. Also, he is doing a huge tour. The horrible news is he will not be in L.A. I am dreaming of seeing him in NYC, Chicago, London or Paris, or all of the above.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7_Nps1WhFQ]

Belette in the 7th arrondissement and Beverly Hills

Oooh-la-la-la-la-la!! Mon amie, cher Fifi of Fifi’s Flowers, who connected me with Lily and painted the portrait of my furry daughter, has created a portrait of moi. That is me looking gorgeous in my unspeakably gorgeous 7th arrondissement apartment overlooking la tour d’eiffel. J’adore!!!  To my right is an ennui couch on which I nap and write and recline in my ennui pose with paw to head and where I sigh dramatically as I try to decide where I shall sup ce soir
I know I have been mad at Paris but this portrait of me in Paris has reinspired some Paris love and longing. I am having some serious wanderlust now that I feel at home in L.A. And now that I have finished the first round of the proposal I am dreaming that should I sell my book this year that maybe I really will go to Paris to finish it. In less I get a huge advance I doubt that my apartment will be as chic or as well located as the apartment Fifi has painted me in.
Should you want to share your love of weasels (Belettes) and Paris you could order a set of note cards from Fifi with this painting on it or you could get note cards with Lily on it—or both. I am definitely getting several sets of both.
Today I am having a great day, an almost as good as Paris day. Why? Because Thursday is dia de los Igor and immediately after Igor I am meeting Deja Pseu. Deja and I are shopping in Beverly Hills. We are going to Saks, Neiman Marcus and to Barneys. Also, it seems we will be getting some free cosmetics and I am hoping I can get Deja to help me pick out a new perfume. I have long wanted to try a Frederik Malle fragrance. Then Deja and I will be lunching someplace chic and lovely. Don’t you wish you were coming? Well, I do. 

Joyeux Noël

Hope that, if Christmas is a day you celebrate, that it is lovely, trauma free, champagne filled day and that Santa brought you all you deserve, lots of shoes, a puppy dog and a trip to Paris. If not just remember that the after-Christmas sales where you can buy what you really want. Joyeux Noël, mon amies!!

As you read this He-weasel and I are at my Mother’s in Palm Springs today having a ho-ho-hole in one kind of holiday in the land of golf cart Christmas parades and men in tartan plaid Bermuda shorts and Santa’s hats. I should be fine, I brought my own Xanax and several bottles of Champagne. I listened to Ricky Gervais all the way to my mother’s and that is the best thing I can do to keep my spirits bright. Oh, and He-weasel sang his versions of Christmas songs that often have chorus’ that involve lots of “Inkey-dinkey-dinkey-doo’s”.

So, as you read this, we ought to be doing some or all of the following: drinking champagne, eating Brie or a chocolate orange and watching Heat Miser and Cold Miser sing their duet and then there is my traditional annual viewing of “All the President’s Men” that I watch when everyone else is napping( don’t ask why, I have no idea why. Tradition is tradition, best not to mess with it by asking) and then He-weasel and I do our annual walk and debriefing of the day so far and then there will be prime rib slathered with horseradish sauce. Hope you’re having even a better day than we are. If not, have a little champagne, chocolate, Brie and sometime with someone who doesn’t drive you totally cookaloo—and if that doesn’t work then just hold on, breath deep and know that Christmas is only one day and soon you will be back home in your condo, I mean comfort zone.

Happy Christmas!!
Bisoux,
La Belette Rouge
p.s. I’ll be back home tomorrow and back on the blogosphere.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cNqH6dCPe_s]

About Me

My name is Tracey, aka La Belette Rouge. I am a psychotherapist and the author of Freudian Sip @ Psychology Today. I blog about psychology, my therapy, dreams, writing, meaning making, home, longing, loss, infertility and other things that delight or inspire me. I try to make deep and elusive psychodynamic concepts accessible and funny. For more information, click here .

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