Paris, the hot and the not

Every time I told someone that I would be moving to Paris over the summer, the reaction was the same: "Ooooh my god! You are SOOOO lucky! That's my dream!" More than perhaps any other city in the world, Paris taps into a big fat romantic vein buried deep in the American heart. Somehow the city retains exclusive rights to the following tourist fantasies: drinking Champagne and kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower, clinking coffee cups over fresh croissants while watching the sunrise from the balcony of an opulent hotel room, shopping leisurely at gemlike boutiques and colorful markets, and admiring (perhaps bedding) handsome men and beautiful women skilled in the arts of seduction.

Ain't nothing wrong with these fantasies. We're Americans; we work too hard, we prioritize practicality over aesthetics, convenience over flavor, and science over art. I think we need to retain in our collective imagination a place in which beauty and deliciousness and joie de vivre still triumph; and for many of us, that place is Paris.

Perhaps if a gal spent just a week here with an unlimited budget, a chauffeured car and a suite at the Hotel Crillon, she could manage to sustain the Paris-Champagne-shopping fantasy. For the rest of us, though, I think travel anywhere usually ends up being a combination of blissful, fleeting moments when our expectations are fulfilled, long periods of sweaty trudging, map-reading and miscommunication, and occasional lightning bolts that cause our carefully constructed visions of a place to come crashing down around us. This heady cocktail is why I find travel to be so addictive, I guess. But part of me also wishes that we could do a better job of demanding that our Parisian dreams be realized in our daily lives in the States. Why do we need Paris to relax, to fall in love, to slow down and enjoy life? Can't we apply a little of this spirit to the American lifestyle?

Tomorrow marks the two-month anniversary of my move to Paris. Since I've arrived, I've noticed that slightly shocked expressions appear on the faces of friends and family whenever I've brazenly dared to complain about any aspects of life here. Complaining about living in Paris is, I admit, a little like winning a free Porsche and then mentioning that you had hoped for the color black instead of red. But I don't want my blog and conversations to turn into dishonest dishing up of Paris travel porn; I want you to know that for every beautiful, flaky pain au chocolat in this city, there are plenty that are dry and freezer-burnt; for every chisled Adonis that brushes against you on the Metro, you must endure the furtive pinches of twenty smelly old codgers.

So, in honor of the past eight weeks, I have compiled a silly, short list of eight things that I appreciate about my new home, and eight things I could do without.

Without further ado:

Cindy's Paris: HOT
1) Open admiration for strangers' food and fashion choices
It's acceptable here to praise someone on the beautiful pastry they are about to eat, or to gaze approvingly at their sparkly accessories.
2) Converse All-Stars
I have been wearing these (in black, always and forever) since I was 14. Thank god I happen to be here while they are hip.
3) Kirs
Such a good girlie drink: not overly strong, pretty-lookin' and big enough that you can nurse one for an hour.
4) Occasional bouts of collective public politeness
I love it that everyone holds the heavy metal Metro exit doors for the people coming up behind them, and that many people stand up (giving up their seats) to make room when the Metro car gets too crowded.
5) Hagen Dazs Midnight Cookie ice cream
Chocolate base with chocolate cookies; as far as I know, we don't have it in the U.S. Probably responsible for five of the ten pounds I gained while living in London. Alas, it costs about $8 a pint here.
6) Giant, crazy fashion glasses
I am not fashionable. Not even close. But I love the big colorful designer glasses everyone wears here. I know they look like goggles to Americans, but I can't help it. I want some.
7) Entitled old ladies
Elderly women (at least in the 16th, my neighborhood) dress to the nines every day just to do their shopping. They command respect, especially when they shove you aside if you're in their way.
8) Free reign to enjoy yourself and the pleasures of life without guilt
Need I say more?

Cindy's Paris: NOT HOT
1) Open disdain for strangers' food and fashion choices
Wolf down a messy kebab or wear ugly sweatpants on the Metro, and receive the most disgusted, hate-filled gazes of your entire life. People make their opinions pretty clear here. As a side note, I find it depressing to watch the few brave souls that try to eat on the go. Public eaters in Paris resemble public nose-pickers; they are joyless and ashamed, yet each group remains motivated by their single purpose. The eaters often follow a pattern: they take tiny nibbles, then hide the food between bites, then take more tiny nibbles, all the while clawing repeatedly at their faces to erase any errant cream sauce. Even though this is a city that guiltlessly embraces the joys and pleasure of eating, the social rules are pretty strict about when and where it can occur.
2) Human/animal emissions
I know the dog poo issue is a tired old chestnut, but I will add that there is also quite a bit of puke decorating my neighborhood streets. Let's put it this way: I can think of better things to gaze at on my Sunday morning walk to the laundromat than pigeons breakfasting on a pile of hurl.
3) Being surrounded by models while you're busy stuffing your face
I didn't even know it was Fashion Week until I noticed a disproportionate number of tall, willowy women with severe haircuts sipping bottled water (served by a fawning waiter) near me at lunch the other day. It's enough to put you right off your enormous creme brulee!
4) Tucking your jeans into your boots
This is very hip at the moment. On me, it looks like a pirate.
5) Razor Scooters
Remember these from the dotcom days? For some reason, they never quite went out of fashion here. Seemingly dignified people can still be seen zooming around public places on them, which makes me resentful. Why is it okay to look TOTALLY RIDICULOUS on a scooter, but not okay to forego blow-drying one's hair? Paris, let's make a pact. I'll stop giggling at the forty-somethings on kiddie scooters if you stop glaring at the slimy tendrils clinging to my neck every morning.
6) Tiny cups of espresso that cost $6
They're everywhere. I love you, tiny espresso, but you cost so very, very much.
7) Using your old fancy shopping bags to haul shit around
People are always conspicuously swinging their wrinkled paper Hermes shopping bags around on the bus and train. It reminds me of being sixteen; after we got our drivers' licenses, we swished our car keys all over the place, including laying them carefully out on tables at restaurants and playing with them absentmindedly while talking to our friends. "Look!" they said. "This girl DROVE HERE! In a CAR!" As far as I can tell, these tired old bags serve the same purpose, except for shopping. "Look! This woman once bought an expensive scarf! WORSHIP HER!"
8) Lastly, my dollhouse-sized kitchen trash can
It forces me to take out the trash every single day. NOT HOT.