Dreaming of Paris

Ok, I have been dreaming of Paris since I was 12, and my theatrical French teacher would rap her chalk against her teeth and shout out that French was the language of love! But lately my fantasizing is getting out of control. It is becoming unhealthy. My secret addiction is taking a toll--and yet I do nothing to move forward. Forward, that is, to actually BEING in Paris, rather than just dreaming about it. (Which is really my favorite thing to do, because I am, by nature, a dreamer).

In the last few weeks, I have given in.

I no longer try to hide my strange draw to Paris. It is a cliche, I know. But I have to face that. And so, I have been eating at french bistros and cooking crepes for breakfast. I walk the aisles too many times in Monsieur Marcel at the Farmer's Market waiting for a nice French man to give me a madeleine. I listen to my French Cafe CD over and over and over. I know Carla Bruni's Quelq'un M'a Dit by heart (but still can't spell it. Sacre Bleu!) I watch French movies and I am reading a French novel (in translation, bien sur!)

I started reading the boys The Little Prince. And each night, as they climb in to hear the story, I make them say a few words in French. They imitate my bad French accent.

Me: "Le"
Them: "Le"
Me: "Petit"
Them: "Petit"
Me: "Prince"
Them: "Prince"

Each night I add a few wacky words: Croissant. Bonjour! Oo Lala! Ou est la piscine? Le Hot Dog!

And, each night, I was spending more and more time cruising around on home exchange web sites. It was out of hand. I was like a gay man looking for sex.

A friend had told me last summer--if you do the home exchange web sites you have to do it early. By the end of September the Europeans are back from last summer and ready to plan their next six week vacation. So when September passed, October, November, December and January, I knew that I was making sure my Paris dream would stay a dream.

This week I finally joined the home exchange. I paid my money for my three month membership, and sloppily described our house. I didn't even have time to post pictures. But this morning my first request came over the transom. I almost spilled my coffee!!! I am so excited I cannot sit down. I have not even responded yet. Do I dare to hope? To move after all these months towards making this a reality?

It sounds so perfect! A flat in the 10th arrondissement belonging to a family with two kids. C'est magnifique!!!

Time to read some Proust! Get out a map! Post my pictures! Sign up for French conversation lessons! And yes, tell the people we want to come!

Keep your fingers crossed for me.