okay lets just begin at the beginning.
it all started in fourth grade, maybe even before then, when i began my love for claude monet. i had a poster of the bridge over a pool of water lilies painting hanging in my bedroom...
then there was a cultivation of style and fashion nursed by the visits to my grandmothers house where i would dream over her issues of Town and Country magazines. one would never guess just by looking at me (in my present homely state) that i have a fancy for fashion, but deep down i am an aspiring clothes designer and home styler... much similiar to the inner dreams you might have of wanting to join the circus or make out with... uhhh... that one guy from that one movie...
moving on,
i've always loved art, even more than fashion, and not all artists i follow are french, but i still looked up to their talents... not in a political way obviously, but in a beret and accordian kind of way... uhhh...
so in seventh grade i took french from "boris" with amanda and lisa... remember that girls? we giggled at his awkwardly tight pants, and sang aux champs elysee... we even ate at a french restaurant where we proceded to wrap up some escargot in a napkin and throw it down the hallway back at school. so super mature were we. french lessons continued on through college where i learned to conjugate a little more and where my art history and humanities classes touched my soul. i previewed some beautiful and also disturbing french foreign films in my youth that i think increased my naive age by twenty years. i can't quite put my finger on what it was about france that spoke to me, it was just a connection... i even convinced myself i would serve a french speaking mission to south africa (africa being another love) but instead met my husband chris who foiled all my plans (cue creepy mime with painted tear on cheek).
***
so here i am now living in idaho falls with my hot hubs and five kids... living the american dream while trying to kick up my stiletto heels every now and then with a gourmet caramel apple or brigette bardot song.
***
then one day, the man (papa bear) who halted all my plans to spread the gospel au francais made my dreams come true... i was talking on the phone with my brother jairus who shares half my brain but is attached to different committments such as making people look beautiful with hair and makeup in jackson hole... he suddenly announced that he had bought a ticket to paris and was going to soak it all in for two weeks. i was so elated for him, but leaked out some of my disappointment that i couldn't share in his adventure knowing full well that my time and season would come later when kids had grown. suddenly that dashing husband of mine (are your eyes rolling yet?) headed towards the computer and proclaimed that "sara you have to go with him... you just must do this together... you both talk all the time about going to paris... let's make it work." so right then and there we booked my flight, i called back jairus, we squealed, i cried, and then i tried to makeout with... uhhh... that one guy that shares that one bed... and the rest is history.
***
long story short (too late), i spent a week with my brother in paris while my husband hung back and held down the fortress (around my heart... are you gagging yet?). could you just die?!! i mean really!! i am like a fairytale story come true like that hung chung guy or pickle girl from american idol. it was pretty dang awesome... and someday i will go back with my lover, because lets face it, museums and fashion stalking were made for me and jairus, but watching romantic french people necking while you sip chocolat chaud with your brother is just awwwwkwaaaard (cue mime stuck in a box).
moving on,
i've always loved art, even more than fashion, and not all artists i follow are french, but i still looked up to their talents... not in a political way obviously, but in a beret and accordian kind of way... uhhh...
so in seventh grade i took french from "boris" with amanda and lisa... remember that girls? we giggled at his awkwardly tight pants, and sang aux champs elysee... we even ate at a french restaurant where we proceded to wrap up some escargot in a napkin and throw it down the hallway back at school. so super mature were we. french lessons continued on through college where i learned to conjugate a little more and where my art history and humanities classes touched my soul. i previewed some beautiful and also disturbing french foreign films in my youth that i think increased my naive age by twenty years. i can't quite put my finger on what it was about france that spoke to me, it was just a connection... i even convinced myself i would serve a french speaking mission to south africa (africa being another love) but instead met my husband chris who foiled all my plans (cue creepy mime with painted tear on cheek).
***
so here i am now living in idaho falls with my hot hubs and five kids... living the american dream while trying to kick up my stiletto heels every now and then with a gourmet caramel apple or brigette bardot song.
***
then one day, the man (papa bear) who halted all my plans to spread the gospel au francais made my dreams come true... i was talking on the phone with my brother jairus who shares half my brain but is attached to different committments such as making people look beautiful with hair and makeup in jackson hole... he suddenly announced that he had bought a ticket to paris and was going to soak it all in for two weeks. i was so elated for him, but leaked out some of my disappointment that i couldn't share in his adventure knowing full well that my time and season would come later when kids had grown. suddenly that dashing husband of mine (are your eyes rolling yet?) headed towards the computer and proclaimed that "sara you have to go with him... you just must do this together... you both talk all the time about going to paris... let's make it work." so right then and there we booked my flight, i called back jairus, we squealed, i cried, and then i tried to makeout with... uhhh... that one guy that shares that one bed... and the rest is history.
***
long story short (too late), i spent a week with my brother in paris while my husband hung back and held down the fortress (around my heart... are you gagging yet?). could you just die?!! i mean really!! i am like a fairytale story come true like that hung chung guy or pickle girl from american idol. it was pretty dang awesome... and someday i will go back with my lover, because lets face it, museums and fashion stalking were made for me and jairus, but watching romantic french people necking while you sip chocolat chaud with your brother is just awwwwkwaaaard (cue mime stuck in a box).
1 comments:
Your husband just officially reached rockstar status in my book. What. A. Man. So glad you got to see "your Paris" and soak it up with one of your best and dearest friends. Next time, FOR SURE take your lover.
Love to you, Stunning Sara.
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