Big changes

Have you seen the movie "Up In The Air"?  Well, there's a scene where George Clooney's character describes being in an airport as his home - and I know the intention was to make everyone think "oh, that man's life is so empty", but honestly, it just made me envious.  Do you realize that it's been more than a year since I've even set foot in an airport?  This wouldn't bother a lot of people, but Miss K is a travel weasel and an airport is my natural habitat - I don't do well in captivity and for me, not being able to afford to travel has been like a prison.

But, my pretties, I have some big news - this travel weasel is staging a prison break, and this blog is going to be changing, for the very simple reason that my location and circumstances are going to be changing.  Yes, it's true - after two and a half years in Paris, I am moving on to sandier (and far more lucrative) pastures: Saudi Arabia.  

I hope that tales of my expat life there will still be of interest to you, but my plan is to change the Expat Postcards to more of a general travel blog - you seem to have enjoyed the Letters from London (thus far, there are still more to come) and I have a number of similar posts that I wrote about other places I've visited (which I'll post in due course), and since I plan to be on a plane to somewhere new and exciting every time there's a three-day weekend or a holiday, there is plenty still to come.  So I'm hoping that you'll still tune in for more of my silliness?

And don't worry, Paris won't be disappearing completely from this blog, I still have a zillion photos that I haven't posted and lots of stories to go with them, so you'll still get your Paris fix from time to time...

Garance!

Well, gentle readers, today I hang my head in shame -  I just met fashion blogger extraordinaire Garance Doré, (one of my personal style favourites) and I was wearing the most boring outfit of all time.  Ugh.

Let me back up a bit - I like to keep a few outfits ready to go at all times (the clothes, the footwear, the accessories, even the underwear, all carefully chosen and hung up together so that I can just throw it all on and get out the door), which makes me sound like one of those ridiculously organized people who has their entire life under control, but nooooo.  This is actually the reason:  Miss K is not a morning person.  I can't even begin to tell you the number of times I've been late for work because I've been staring, slack-jawed and bleary-eyed, into my vast wardrobe, trying to find something, anything to wear (I'm not the only one, right?).  So a few years ago I got into the habit of spending a couple of hours on the weekend putting together my outfits in advance for the coming week:  outfits for work, outfits for social occasions, casual outfits.  And this has worked very well - no more last-minute panic about what to wear, with the added benefit of ensuring that I actually wear everything in my wardrobe.  Ladies, you know what I'm saying - there are always a few things lurking in the closet that never get worn because you never have time to figure out what it actually goes with, and so you end up wearing the same old things over and over again.  

So, as I was saying, this little system has been working well, but today I learned a valuable lesson:  one should also have an outfit ready to go in case one has the opportunity to meet a style icon such as the fabulous Miss Doré, as mentioned above.  I checked her blog this morning (which is http://www.garancedore.fr/en/ - if you are at all interested in fashion, you should definitely be reading it) and she mentioned that she would be doing an interview today in Paris, to which she invited her readers.  Well, of course I had to go, but with only 10 minutes to get ready, what to wear to such an occasion?  Not that she would care what I was wearing, but I cared.  But I panicked, flailed around, threw on a black sweater-dress and went.  God, how embarrassing - dull, dull, dull! 

But at least I got to meet her - I have read her blog for years and I like her writing style so much, she really inspired me to start this blog when I moved to Paris.  And she was just as delightful in person- she stayed for ages after the interview to sign autographs and pose for photos with fans, which was particularly nice of her since it was boiling hot in the room and she must have been dying to leave.

Anyway, so the moral of the story is this:  always be prepared to be fabulous, even at short notice.  Really, shouldn't I know this by now???

A few words about loincloths

Hello, my pretties, I'm back!  Yep, that's right, I am going to pretend that y'all noticed and cared about my absence from the blogosphere, so just let me live in my happy, delusional world, where there are also unicorns,  no-calorie chocolate, and hot men in loincloths (yes, I just watched Spartacus, don't judge me!).  In January I decided that I would try to be one of those bloggers who posts something every day, and I did try, gentle readers, for 23 days in a row, I really tried.  But here's the thing - I just suck at it and after those 23 days I needed a break.  Miss K is a fickle creature, as you should know by now, and when I have to do something, it just becomes a chore and a bore for me, and a major snore for you.  It also doesn't help that in January, I just don't really do anything (as you long-term readers are perfectly aware), I'm always broke, it's always cold, I'm always trying to detox and catch up on the eight thousand projects and emails that I'm always behind on.  God, BORING!!!

So it's a good thing I decided to share some of my Letters from London last month or I wouldn't actually have had anything at all to post about.  So here's the deal - it's my damn blog and I want to enjoy doing it so I'm only going to post when I have something to say or a story to tell or a pretty photo (or crappy outfit) to share.  Some weeks it might be every day, some weeks it might just be once, but I'd be happy with a nice, steady 3-4 times a week - I hope that sounds good to you too, my pretties.  So I'll be back soon with some stories about those hot men in loincloths - wait, what's that?  You don't want to hear about my vivid fantasy life?  Well, fine - how about some brand new penis bread photos instead?  Yep, I knew that would interest you, you cheeky monkeys - stay tuned, I'll post it soon...

Where's the love (again)?

Gentle readers, where's the love? You may not have noticed, but I have been making a huge effort to post every day (successfully so far, I might add), but today I looked at my stats and...well, my pretties, *I* have been here, where the hell are YOU?

The lost weekend (and about a week on either side of it)

I have a vague memory that I used to write a blog - this is it, right?  It's been a while, it all seems very unfamiliar...  Wow, where have the last two weeks gone?  Well, I'll tell you what happened - I had a party.  A housewarming party, in fact.  Now, those of you who are regular readers are probably saying something along the lines of "Really, Miss K, a housewarming party?  Really?  Didn't you move quite a while ago?  In...ummm...July?!?"  Well, yes, I did, and I wrote about it at the time (APARTMENT, bitches) but I never quite got around to warming my damn house, so it was high time I entertained chez moi.  

The problem, however, is that I have some kind of freaky German hausfrau gene buried deep in my DNA and it only emerges when I am having people over and it makes me buy and cook insane amounts of food, because GOD FORBID anyone ever be hungry under my roof.  So I spent a whole week running around getting ready for this party, then had the party (which was excellent, by the way), then had to clean up after the party and somehow managed to mess up my back, which meant that I spent pretty much all of last week lying around zoned out of my mind on painkillers.  You might be thinking that all that lying around might have been a good time for me to catch up on - oh, I don't know - blogging, perhaps?  But when I say I was zoned out, I mean zoooooooooned out.  I couldn't possibly subject my gentle readers to such random, incoherent babbling from me; obviously I had to get off the painkillers and clear my head so that I can subject you to my normal random, incoherent babbling...

Gah!!!

Gentle readers, you know I hate to be predictable, but here I am at yet another bar, blogging by iPhone. Then again, I just found out today that the apartment I am supposed to move into on 1 July isn't going to happen. So, quite frankly, I will require rather large amounts of alcohol to get me through the ordeal of trying to find a new place to live within the next two weeks.  In Paris.  On my - how can I put this? - modest budget. Yep, I'm definitely headed for the cardboard box under the Pont Neuf this time...

Yes, again...

In an effort to not break my perfect posting record this month (and yes, "perfect" refers to posting every day, not to the actual quality of said posts. I know you are a discerning crowd, gentle readers), this is another placeholder post. I am out at Southern Belle's "return to Paris" drinks and had intended to get home at a respectable hour. Instead, I am still out a bar and blogging from my iPhone AGAIN. Sigh. The summer social season in Paris is taking hold...

Tiny Dancer and the furry man-whore

For those of you who are long-time readers of this blog, you may remember my post from last year on the subject of Valentine's Day.  If not, or if you are new here, I am attaching the link: Paris - City of Love. Really?  

So, have things improved for Miss K in the romance department?  Well, let me tell you how I spent Valentine's Day this year.  First, I went for dinner with Tiny Dancer - and you know, she's more delightful than a box of puppies and all that, but she's not a hot man.  Nonetheless, we had a lovely evening - I had been detoxing for nine days and wasn't planning to drink, but Tiny Dancer made the excellent argument that a single girl can't possibly be expected to get through V-Day without the benefit of alcohol, and that surely there is some kind of amnesty granted for such an occasion.  Doesn't that make sense to everyone?  Yes, I thought so too.  So we had pre-dinner aperos, a bottle of wine at dinner, champagne with dessert, and a post-dinner nightcap.  Hee!

And then I went stumbling home to my furry little feline man-whore.   Of course, he doesn't just love me, he'll basically fling himself at anyone who walks into the apartment (hence his reputation as a furry man-whore), but it's still nice to come home to.  And this is the snuggliest cat in the world - you can pick him up any old time and he looooves it.  Most cats would claw your face off if you tried that, and granted, he is a cat and therefore unpredictable (which probably means he'll claw my face off about ten seconds after I write this), but he's still adorable.

Soooo, was this year's Valentine's Day an improvement over last year?  Well, admittedly there were still no hot men romancing me, but a fabulous girly dinner with the awesome Tiny Dancer and then having a furry little feline man-whore snuggle up to me in bed?  Hell yeah - definite improvement!

Luck of the Irish - Part 3

Gentle readers (assuming I still actually have any readers after such a long absence?), I am very happy to report to you that I am not, in fact, writing to you from a cardboard box under the Pont Neuf.  It was a pretty close call, but I managed to find a new home at the very last minute - whew!!!  You may remember that I had two rather fabulous pieces of luck last year ( Luck of the Irish and Luck of the Irish - Part 2)?  Well, this whole experience of looking for a new place to live here was so difficult and miserable and depressing that I really thought my good fortune had completely deserted me, but apparently not - I went to a dinner one night and had the right conversation with the right person at the right moment and now I'm living in a fabulous sub-let in the Marais (one of my favourite areas in Paris) for the next few months.  There's a balcony and a walk-in closet and an adorable kittycat, so I couldn't be happier.  The only real drawback is that it's a fifth-floor walk-up, but I'm so ridiculously thrilled to be here, I couldn't care less about that.

So thank you for being patient and bearing with my temporary crisis.  I'm now all moved in and mostly unpacked, so I can finally get my life (and my poor neglected blog) back to normal.  Let the eating and drinking and socializing (and snarky writing) re-commence...

Happy NYE!

Well, gentle readers, I'm back.  Back in Paris, back to blogging, back in black - you name it, I'm back to it.  And in honour of New Year's Eve, I was going to wrap up 2010 with the Totally Crap Outfits of the Year, because there are quite a few totally crap outfits which I have photographed this year, but for one reason or another, never got around to writing about.  However, I am leaving shortly for a dinner followed by a masquerade party and I don't have time to truly do these outfits justice in such a short time; trust me, they deserve my proper care and attention - I was actually laughing out loud just looking back at the photos.  So look for that tomorrow - or possibly the next day, depending on how outrageous my hangover is tomorrow...

And hopefully it will be outrageous and I will have a wonderful time tonight - last year's NYE was the worst one of my entire life (and that's including the year I had a spinal tap because doctors thought I had meningitis - which is a long story for another time, but you get the idea, yes?) so I need to take the bad mojo off it by having extra fun tonight.  And of course I wish all of you extra fun in return - Happy New Year's, everyone!

Pretty pictures

From my last post, you probably noticed that I'm not actually in Paris at the moment - I am back in Toronto for festive fun with family and friends until nearly the end of December.  But never fear, gentle readers, that doesn't mean I won't be blogging.  It might be every second or third day (which, admittedly, is not all that different from usual), but I will still be sharing my silly ramblings with you.  I'll write about Toronto if I see something noteworthy, or I might post some photos or talk about some past events from Paris, or I might share some crappy outfits I photographed this year and didn't get around to posting at the time.  We'll see...

But for today, some shots from the plane window as there was a rather spectacular sunset as I was leaving Paris...

If you squint, you can see the Eiffel Tower - it's the pointy thing just off-centre

That's better - my camera rocks

Clouds - although it looks like ocean

Where's the love?

I've been writing this blog for exactly one year today - this is my 177th post, which averages out to one nearly every other day.  So even though I haven't always been the most...erm, consistent, shall we say?... blogger, that's not actually a bad track record.  And I seem to get quite a reasonable number of hits, but not many actual followers (although to those of you who do follow? Thanks!) appearing on this page.  Now, gentle readers, Miss K is a hardy soul, but I could still use a little ego-boost from time to time.  So if you lurk out there in cyberspace and drop in once in a while to see what's happening in my random life in Paris, and if you enjoy my silly ramblings, I would take it as a personal favour if you would put yourself down as a follower.  It only takes a couple of mouse clicks, and you can count it as your good deed of the day - show a humble blogger some love, people, because it's hard to stay motivated when you feel like you're just talking to yourself all the time... 

Filler

Okay,  I totally planned to post about what it's like to move in Paris but my internet connection is crap and loading my photos is taking forever, and quite frankly, as part of my reward (food and booze) for helping friends move, I have drunk an entire bottle of wine by myself tonight.  Normally not a problem but as I've been booze-free for two whole weeks (well, okay, I had three cocktails one night but whatever) it's made me a bit sleepy and I am heading for bed. So I am still trying to do this whole posting-every-day thing but some days you're just going to get what you get. Sorry!!!

What happened?

How has it come to this?  I've been in Paris nearly a year now, and the first few months were soooo quiet that I was in danger of becoming some crazy hermit cat lady (except without the cat), and now I have so many things to do all the time that I can't ever seem to catch up.  Not that I am complaining, especially since one of my new obligations will actually pay me, which is good, since that whole living-an-impoverished-but-still-oh-so-charming life in Paris just ain't what it used to be.  (Then again, I am also not smoking opium and drinking absinthe, which I'm sure made the starving artist thing much more fun!)

Anyway, I need to fill in a medical form, make another doctor's appointment, go have the x-ray that I still haven't had done, send in something for my taxes, learn a huge amount of information for this second job, finish packing up my room (for the move that still hasn't happened and I don't know when it will, but I need to be ready), sort through photos dating back to August, plan a quick trip to London, get some more work done on my novel, start trying to find a Christmas gift for the most impossible-to-buy-for person in the entire universe (yes, I need to start that in October and if I'm very lucky, I might just find something by the end of December but don't hold your breath), reply to about 300 emails dating back from June if not earlier (I am scared to look in case it's even worse than I think it is), and occasionally catch up with my friends.  And I'm pretty sure that I have forgotten about 20 things off that list, but I don't have time to remember them just now.

And of course, I need to keep up with this blog - I really wanted to have a perfect record this month and it just didn't happen, but I am still trying to post in a more timely fashion than in previous months - *coughAugustcoughSeptembercough*.  So I am trying hard, but if you're reading these and thinking that I'm not really bringing my A-game at the moment, this is why.  I hope to pull it together soon, though...

Oops

Really - oops. As mentioned, I am new at this blogging thing and I have now been informed by those in the know that if I'm going to have a blog I should update it every day. In fact, some bloggers apparently update theirs several times a day. Yikes - I'm not sure I have even one interesting thought per week, far less every day, far less several times each day.

Nonetheless, gentle readers (and I am astonished that I actually have any readers but according to my hit counter, over a hundred people have already visited my blog this first week - I know that's nothing compared to the gajillions that a lot of other blogs get, but I am completely delighted that anyone is taking an interest, so thanks!), I am going to commit to trying to somewhat entertain you on a daily basis. Deal?

So, in that vein, here is today's bit of randomness:

When I first arrived here, I had to pick up quite a few essentials for my room and while I was at it, I decided to pick up one non-essential. An orchid. Anyone who knows me is going to be laughing like a drunken hyena at that piece of news, because it is well known that I am a plant killer extraordinaire. The angel of floral death, people - I walk into a plant store and they all flop over and play dead in an effort not to be chosen:

African violet - Don't look at me, lady, I'm already wilting, wiiiiiilting - pick the cactus, he wants to go with you...

Cactus - Shut up, maybe she'll take the orchid - fool doesn't know enough to fall over when The Killer comes in. Now just be quiet, she's heading in that direction.... Yes!!!

Or so I imagine it goes. Anyway, the point is, nothing green lives once I get hold of it - I actually have killed off African violets, ivy, and various cacti (all of which I was assured are unkillable. Yeah, whatever.) among many more fragile plants; I don't have a green thumb when it comes to plants, I have a black thumb. So I don't know what possessed me to suddenly buy an orchid, but I did, and rather lovely it is. And I use the present tense because the damn thing is still alive after three whole weeks - I can't imagine how or why, but it actually seems to be thriving. (But if any of you would like to start running bets on exactly when I will manage to murder the poor thing, please do feel free, I won't be offended.)

None of which is actually relevant but anyway. My point is this: when I purchased the orchid, there was a little sign posted into the soil, which I assumed would be instructions for caring for this innocent flower going to its doom. But no. The sign was a warning not to eat the orchid. Let me just repeat that so that there are no doubts on what it said: not to eat the orchid. And the reason I can be so crystal-clear on this instruction is that it was printed in FOUR languages with a diagram. My mind is officially boggled - is there some orchid-eating addiction that I am unaware of? Some underground movement that gets their kicks from consuming non-edible flowers? And a warning in four languages?? I have actually purchased bladed appliances and pharmaceuticals with less warnings involved; hell, I think there are places in the US where you can buy guns with less warnings involved. So if someone can explain this to me, please do. I know the French eat some...erm...unusual things, but orchids? I'm completely mystified.