i could eat the sun

Even the woman at the Patisserie half smiled at me today. Normally she stares at me with a permanent scowl on her face, remaining expressionless as I make chirpy chit chat and give her the wrong change.

Today it was her who was working slowly with the change, "Sorry, I'm a little lost today," she said in French, in a self-mockery tone, "It's okay," I smiled, "so am I."

And I was. Just ten minutes before I had rolled out of bed, realizing I had to get a baguette and pick the kids up from school pronto. I threw on some clean clothing, put on a dab of make-up, forgot deoderant altogether, and headed out the door.

Rather than feel flustered I felt light and confident. It was such a beautiful day that I let it rub off on me, seep into my skin, and let me feel that way as well.

I met the kids with a smile, nibbling away at the baguette. I took them home, fed them, made them clean their rooms, took them back to school, and had the rest of the day for personal freedom.

Given the grace of another afternoon off, I took off to a trendy shopping district of Paris to walk and wander around stores I can't afford, and take in the latest trends in fashion.

I looked at designer shoes at Bon Marche, and was taken aback when I found a whole section they had devoted to New York. On the second floor is a small area, with little rooms split off into different New York labels. They even had a small grocery section, where I warmed by the familiar sights of peanut butter, Jones soda, brownie mix, marshmallows and other American goodies us Canadians enjoy as well.

Even more impressive is the Bon Marche Epicerie, where I walked around with my jaw hanging open. It's the ultimate grocery store. They have food from all over the world, including Irish oatmeal, peanut butter, and Japanese condiments, all of which I'll be coming back for. Good grocery stores are like museums for me, and I walk around admiring spices, sauces and different types of chocolate as if their the finest Renaissance paintings, placed carefully on supermarket shelves.

The candy section set off my sweet tooth, and I headed to Starbucks, because as much as I love Parisian cafes, they don't sell caramel frappucinos. The ultimate satisfaction. What else will feed my caffeine, sugar, and fatty whip cream habit all in one go?

Fully fueled I wandered more. Finally made it to Colette, the three floored store for all those who are hip and with it. Downstairs is a water bar, first floor is beautiful graphic art books, skin care, CDs and knick knacks, and upstairs is gorgeous clothing, dressed up on mannequins. I wanted to take a short black dress and bolero home with me, but they were worth more than my apartment.

With my love for fashion and food in full thrive, it's great to be here. To fully appreciate it I really need to make myself get out as much as possible. This is much easier with a full night's sleep and a good mood. It's not a city made for sulking, at least not on a day like today.