An American in Paris

I arrived in paris, via Eurostar, on Saturday. I sat next to a Parisian man who asked if I wanted anything from the dining car when he got up to get food. How nice! We talked the whole train ride and turns out he loves Americans because they are "so easy to talk to." The Brits and the Parisians aren't this way, he said. We talked about brownies and Europeans and health food and how being rich is overrated. He works in wealth management and says many of his clients are miserable. It was very interesting. When we said goodbye, we "French" kissed.

I hit it off with my host, Sara, instantly. I'd only met her through email prior to my trip. Imagine my luck, finding someone kind and caring who is also a total germ freak like me. It was almost freaky. We've been gossiping like school girls since the minute I arrived. The other night, when my feet were hurting from walking in heels (my attempt to be stylish), she traded me shoes and let me wear her flats. We walked past the restaurant where the last episode of Sex in the City was filmed, as well as Pont Neuf, the oldest standing bridge across the river Seine in Paris, where Big stood in the snow, wondering whether or not he'd find Carrie. It's a very romantic spot. Paris is a glorious city. It's full of sparkle. I must admit, I'm totally in love. I like it much better than London. It just feels more like me. I could live here in a heartbeat.