London Women

I know this may sound strange -- and I know you may not agree -- but the women in London are cuter than the women in Paris.
They're funkier, more inventive, more original.
They're wearing short-shorts with black tights and Uggs. Clingy black dresses with big wide belts and Doc Marten boots. Sharp suits with tights and stilettos. Lots of cute boots -- tall, short, ankle, over-the-knee. Lots of cute coats and scarves. Long blonde hair.
They make you want to try new combinations, give it a whirl, why not.
The women in Paris are classic, yes, but kinda monochrome too. They don't catch the eye in the same way.
And they can have a superior look.
Instead of a smile when you catch their eye.
In London, people are pleasant. They pride themselves on being nice. Polite. They're all about that.
They like to make you laugh.
I like that.
Paris is also full of Americans. Everywhere you go, every neighborhood, every market. Maybe it's because the language stands out more there. Maybe it's because Americans have always loved Paris.
In London, there are Americans too, of course. Lots of them. Hell, I'm one of them. So what am I talking about?
But it doesn't feel over-run in the same way. Because London's a lot bigger, so much bigger.
This is a huge city.
That's one of the problems.
It's too huge. Too spread out. A bunch of little towns, really, all connected.
Paris is compact, easier to get around. Take a cab. Walk over there.
It's easier to meet up with people there, because they don't live an hour and a half away on public transport, like they can in London.
London's little towns have their charms, though -- and the weather in the two cities is almost the same.
Even though they say it rains less in Paris.
But I'm not so sure.
Because it doesn't rain here as much as it did.
That's what everyone keeps telling me.
And it hasn't rained that much, at least recently. Which has been really nice.

The Color of Cities

Paris, maybe more than any other city, has its color.
It's so distinctive. Such an unique look.
But what color is it exactly?
I've been trying to name it for the past two days.
And I invite you all to weigh in. Since I'm no Paris expert.
It's grey, but then it can be almost the color of a magnolia, or is it sand? Even at times off-white, or even white. But never white-washed, like something in the Mediterranean, god forbid, no.
That's not elegant enough.
And then the buildings are often flat-fronted, six or seven stories high, all with black wrought iron window railings. Not balconies or terraces like in Italy -- not the weather for that -- just faux balconies, really, just the railing outside the window, often with a splash of red geraniums on top.
And then there's the terracotta chimney tops, all lined up on the flat rectangular stone chimneys on every building.
Street after wide street the same in harmonious elegance.
Stunning.
And so unique.
Rome has a color too -- and I've struggled trying to name that one. Please help me there as well.
Rome's a burnt sienna, with a bit of pumpkin, some faint orange maybe, with some brown. More earth-colored; less austere.
More faded, though, too. Needs a paint job.
Paris doesn't need a paint job.
London's easy -- it's the color of brick, row upon row of little brick houses in tidy little brick streets. Endless little brick streets with rectangular signs with big black round lettering.
Do the big cities in America have a color too?
I'm not sure.
What color is New York -- in my view, America's most glorious city?
Is it a color?

Taking the Eurostar

So excited today! Gonna take the Eurostar to Paris.
To visit a girlfriend for the weekend. The one who divides her time between London and Paris.
Never taken the Eurostar under the English Channel before. And it's already 15 years old.
Everyone says it's cool. Only takes two-and-a-half hours to get to Paris. Leaving this afternoon, will be there in time for dinner with her. At her local cafe, she suggested, downstairs from her flat.
Yes!
This is the kind of weekend I imagined myself having when I thought about living in London.
But it's the first time I've done anything like this. And we've been here 8 months already. (that long?).
I mean, I've been to Italy a lot, certainly over the summer, but I never just ran off for a long weekend somewhere, somewhere close, yet far (like Paris). All my trips to Italy were long, really long by anyone's standards. More like living there.
This summer was all about trying to get comfortable there, make it home. And then make this home too. And look for work here. And run all the administrative errands that come with moving (no, I still haven't changed all my addresses -- don't even know how long I'll be at this address really).
And all the mind traps.
And then my son. Stress about what he was going to do -- trying to help.
But now that's sorted for awhile.
So it's time for a fun little jaunt like this. For myself.
I need to have a little bit of fun now, just a little.
Even though I haven't worked that much (in a traditional sense), over the past 14 months, I feel like I've worked myself to the bone. In my mind. I'm exhausted. From the stress of it all. From the anxiety.
That may sound ridiculous.
So I beg your forgiveness in advance.
My husband and son will spend the weekend together here in London. My husband's off work. My son has four more days until his internship starts.
Ciao for awhile!
Or shall I say, "bon voyage!"