3
IF IT WEREN’T FOR my mother, I’d be in post-sex bliss right now, lying in Oscar’s arms, satisfied and relaxed.
Mitzy meows — she doesn’t like closed doors. I slither out of bed and swing the door open. She saunters in, and jumps up on the bed. I pet her soft orange fur and stare into her sweet green eyes. “It happened again,” I tell her. “Oscar and I had another fight. We didn’t even get to finish off the make-up sex from our last fight, and we’re already into another one. Can you believe that?”
She purrs loudly.
“I wish I were neutered like you. No more boy troubles.”
She turns over on her back, a request for a belly rub. I oblige.
“It’s always the same thing,” I tell her. “He wants more commitment from me. Why can’t he just enjoy our situation? It’s pretty much every man’s dream — sex with no strings. He doesn’t even have to buy me dinner. He can sleep with other people…”
I wonder if he is. For some reason, I know he isn’t. I’d be shocked if I were to find out that he was.
I spot purple fabric hidden under the sheet. I pull it out to discover it’s Oscar’s missing sock — this one is covered with clown faces. I smile.
An idea hits me. I grab my phone and tap on my Amazon app. I browse through men’s socks. I’ve bought him many pairs these past years to add to his growing collection, usually for his birthday or Christmas. I’ve never bought apology socks before.
I find ice cream cone covered ones. He loves ice cream. Perfect. I add it to the items already in my cart and process the order.
I pout. I’m definitely in the dog house this time. And I’m not sure a pair of socks can fix things.
Paris
A walk about Paris will provide lessons in history, beauty, and in the point of life.
– Thomas Jefferson.
Paris,Paris, Paris. Beautiful Paris.
Why are people so fascinated with this city? Why does it stand out amongst thousands of others? Is it its beautiful centerpiece, the majestic Eiffel tower? The Eiffel tower is the most visited attraction in the world. When it was first constructed over one hundred years ago, it was the tallest structure in the world, and funny enough, locals thought it was ugly and were opposed to it. Now, it is mostly seen as beautiful. As a child I’ve always dreamed of being at its top and marveling in the view. I wonder how many little girls have had the same fantasy. I have been to Paris once, but have yet to make it up the Eiffel tower.
What makes Paris so romantic? When I think of Paris, I think pink, roses, hearts, and the iconic Eiffel tower, a landmark and a worldwide symbol of love. How many proposals have taken place in Paris? Millions, I’m sure. This is a city where couples kiss openly and are not afraid to show their love. America could take a few pointers from Paris in that department.
The history and the architecture. It’s certainly a sight to behold. Years ago, architecture was full of sweat and passion, millions of labor hours. Artisans and laborers poured their hearts out into those magnificent buildings, every detail of them exquisite. Nowadays, we mail it in. A glossy square building will never have the beauty and charm of an old historical masterpiece.
The energy is something else in Paris. It’s wild, busy, and full of life. It’s certainly never calm, always moving along to the beat of people’s steps, some hurried, some slow. There’s so much to see, it’s overwhelming: museums, the most stunning art in the world, the most magnificent gardens and landmarks, and so many cozy little spots.
The food is rich, decadent, and definitely something to remember. The desserts are colorful and fun, begging to be indulged in; macarons in pastel colors and pretty fondant cakes calling our names. It’s almost a crime to bite into a pretty Parisian treat and destroy its beauty.
Everything is pretty in Paris. Perhaps that is the reason that most women are so enthralled by it. Fashion, flea markets, street art — it’s a feast for the eyes, and I imagine one could spend years in Paris and never tire of it.
And there’s also the sinister side of Paris; those intriguing dark corners; the most famous cemeteries in the world. Millions flock to Père Lachaise cemetery every year, where Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde, Molière and many others are buried. And there are also the famous underground catacombs… walls of skulls, the remains of six million people.
And my favorite spot of all, the Seine river. A series of landmarks, and awe-inspiring bridges. A stroll down the river is definitely on my list.
I can’t wait to walk the streets of Paris, and get lost in the lovely scenery and architecture. Spring in Paris should be beautiful — I’ve never been this time of year. I’m going to indulge in the food, and I’m definitely going to stand somewhere high and take in the lights of the city at night.
I can’t wait!
* * *
Gabbie looks amazing— although she’s only about four months along, she’s already pretty big. She rises from the table to greet me, and I swoop her in for a hug. “Pregnancy suits you,” I tell her. “You look great.”
We take a seat at our usual table. As soon as I settle my behind into one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, my body instantly relaxes and my problems seem to float away, if only for just a brief moment. I love this little coffee shop/used books store — it’s my happy place, the spot where I see my friends, the only place where I occasionally let myself indulge in sweets.
Gabbie, Maeve, Corrie and I met right here in this coffee shop. We’re officially a journaling club, and unofficially best friends. At times, we actually share journal entries, but most often we just end up chatting about books, movies, and life.
