Paris Suce

 I am in a real TV holding pattern right now. I feel like I have watched all the shows and The Crown doesn't start until November. 

So in my scrolling recently, I found a show called Emily In Paris about a young woman moving to Paris where she embarks on episodic love, food, career and fashion bolstering fun. Wow, does Netflix know escapism or what?  

Does Netflix also know that I almost had to be hospitalized when Gossip Girl  spent the summer in Paris? Or that I will adamantly defend the decision Carrie made to go to Paris with Alexander? (THAT DRESS!!!) Donna Martin and Brenda Walsh ate BRAINS in Paris and I was like "Pack my bags!!" Clearly the algorithm is working and Netflix knows that I know that LC will always be known as the girl that didn't go to Paris. 

But, does Netflix know that I HATED Paris? 

Yes. I am one of the few people on the planet that didn't have the Moulin Rouge good time in Paris that media had promised. Tres American, I know, but for me, it lived up to the hateful hype.  Therefore, I give you the (maybe)forthcoming Netflix special: Katie Hates Paris. 

My trip to Paris was sandwiched in between weeks in London so to be fair, it probably never had a crepes  chance in hell. It was November and London had been idyllic; fall colors, all kinds of royal happenings, great weather and literally, not a drop of rain the entire time we were there. London knows how to treat guests. 

We took the train from London to Paris which smells a billion times worse than the worst thing you have ever smelled. Maybe worse. We navigated all the pitfalls of French directions in the train station and managed to make it to our Uber. Where I had grown used to riding on the other side of the road, I was not used to a blatant disregard for traffic engineering altogether. Manic is the only way to describe it. We zipped through the streets until we paused at what I will assume was a stop sign and the driver uttered maybe his only English "There is Eiffel Tower." 

Where?

We had had the good fortune to arrive in Paris at the same time as a Biblical fog. I could make out 4 of the base legs, but from where I sat, that could have been anything. Not a great first impression, but hopefully it got better? 

It didn't.

First stop: The Louvre. 

Obvious first choice, but here is the thing: JD is an absolute SAINT when it comes to traveling with me. Even to somewhere like Nashville where he buys me chewy Sweettarts and fountain Diet Coke and lets me listen to 20-seconds of every song I can think of. Paris is a different trip with me and my ADD. Art isn't really his jam, and that is ok, because even I only like the hits. I came for the Mona Lisa, I don't need to see everything you own. We went FULL American and talked about The DaVinci Code most of the time. 

I was VERY into macaroons the whole time we were there. It was probably one of the only things that I ate that wasn't cheese based. Paris was getting back into my good graces a little bit. Nothing really upsetting about this picture. I am missing macaroons and when my forehead looked like that. 

This biggest celebrity in Paris and here we are with her. What you cannot see is the other 9,000 people on either side and in front of us. It was like the Paris State Fair with all those people. And for every single person, there were at least 2 Apple products. It was a hot sea of iPads and iPhones. We had to crop in this close to make it seem like it was just the three of us. But it does, so mission accomplished.

This guy.

This was night one and the fog had only dissipated this much in one day. We were there for 3, so it wasn't looking promising. Yes, it is beautiful and magical, but let's be honest. You want the whole thing. It would be like saying "Here is the Statue of Liberty's dress and sandals." 

Is this just a food blog now? 

What I did like about Paris is that no one judged me for getting 9 breakfasts items. Crepes are definitely something I think we Americans should adopt more. And when someone WILLINGLY gives me the choice between Nutella and Chocolate and when I can't decide ENCOURAGES me to get both, yes. I'll have that. 

What I didn't appreciate from Paris was the ability to get these beauties any time, any where. I have no self control. If I see a crepe stand, I am hitting it. HARD. Paris might have been a little more considerate of my lack of impulse control. 

Second Stop: Palace at Versailles

I was coaxed onto another smelly Parisian train by the promise of another palace. And probably some more crepes or macaroons.  But definitely a palace. 

I had become used to the palaces in England and all their majesty. Literally. Pristine ancient seats with manicured lawns and historical artifacts impeccably cared for. 

Not the case here.

Versailles was simply sad. Not just because of events that unfolded there, but the overall upkeep of such a once beautiful home. Instead of docents anxious to tell you every single, solitary fact about this magical place, we were treated with head sets and told to tune to the English station. Self guided through only the first floor, (once I am in a palace, I need to see every square inch) it was dusty, musty and really all looked the same. Kind of like your Great Aunt's house with dueling floral prints and antiques you see in horror movies. There was little anecdotal information on the tour and whomever curated this tour must have only had minutes to do so. It was just lacking.  The grounds were stunning, but again, that fog had put a literal and figurative damper on everything. 

This hat. 

I will never hear a negative word spoken about this hat. I found this hat a year before our trip and I thought I might explode with excitement before I got to wear it. I thought, "If not in Paris, then where?" I do think it says a lot about who JD and I are as a couple that these are the hats we each chose to wear in Paris. 

Before you completely drag me in this hat, consider the company I keep:

Yeah. Now go get a black fur hat. 

I love this picture. 

I love it most because I think it speaks to my ability to hide fear in a picture. 

We begrudgingly asked someone else to take this; God forbid anyone in France would have offered. But I have a REAL fear (even stateside) of someone taking off with our device. I don't know why. So I am terribly worried that this person, who we do not know from a Nutella crepe, is going to take off with our American iPhone and have all our information and we will never be able to leave France. 

Secondly, THAT TRAFFIC. Sure, it looks far away, but it wasn't. Just seconds later, a car came careening so close, it almost blew my fur hat off. Why are there no rules? Are there and no one abides? Where is everyone going so quickly? Based on the pace of walk and restaurant service, fast doesn't really seem to be your MO here. Are you just in a hurry to slow down? It was so frightening and Paris traffic makes NYC look like Mayberry. Absolutely too fast. 

Also of note: in every picture, you can see me clutching my purse. That is already around my body. 

Still no Eiffel Tower. 

What the hell, Paris. This is your thing. Do you not have a fan or some meteorological marvel to clear the fog? That would be like us saying "Sorry folks, the Grand Canyon is filled with water today."  Americans would have that drained by plastic straw if necessary. 

It was all a little too French and depressing so we had pizza and American TV instead. 

Third Stop: Eiffel Tower

Ok, Paris. I see you. 

No, I do. Because the fog has finally lifted. 

And she's a beaut, Clark. 

JD had planned a river cruise and I was seriously worried we were just going to have 1,000 pics of a foggy boat on our camera roll.  We boarded the boat right past all the souvenir sales people and the potential human traffickers we were warned about. The weather was perfect; no fog, no rain and it had warmed up an entire degree.  

You know who else likes beautiful Parisian weather? Influencers. 

You cannot convince me that we were the only non-influencers on the boat. They should have charged a second fee to watch all the influencers on this boat work. I have never seen such as I saw that day. I felt like a real jackass for buying a ring light before the trip. These were full blown photo calls. 

I don't know what I saw that day on the boat ride... I have never seen so many Instagram people in one place. And I have been to Florida. 

Third Stop Part 2: The Eiffel Tower

JD had made reservations at the restaurant in the Eiffel Tower for champagne that night. Which I am sure would have been as magical as it sounds...

What I also didn't realize in the fog of the Eiffel Tower was exactly how high up it truly is... and I have a paralyzing fear of heights. 

I had summoned the courage a few days earlier in London when we also had champagne at the top of the Shard in London. (We did a lot of champagne work on this trip.) But I wasn't recovered from that. My sea legs were not back and clearly, they weren't coming back. This was too tall. 

Would that have been my Parisian Serena Vanderwoodsen moment? We will just never know. What I do know is that there wasn't enough champagne in ALL of France to get me up that high. 

Last stop: Dinner.

JD had also secured some dinner reservations based on a recommendation from a friend. We got to the restaurant and found our little table in the corner. This was the Parisian dinner I wanted. Cozy and quiet with the great food and wine we had been assured of by friends. We were clearly at an early seating and the restaurant wasn't too full yet, so there was a free table next to us. 

It slowly started to fill and the people watching was pretty great. 

Next thing we know, a dog is sitting in the chair at the table next to us. And in full irony, a French bulldog. Everything here is on brand. 

Clearly that dog had no idea how much I was missing MY dog, but it was still kind of a jerk thing to do. I began to think about Ouis, my idiot beagle with the French name that can never come to France because of all the stringent quarantine laws which I am sure are even worse due to COVID. Now I am sad... .But this dog was super sweet and had a lot of personality. He sat at the table just staring at us. Then, he jumped up, ran to the back and came back with half a baguette. First of all, this is the FASTEST service I have seen in all of France, but seriously. what is happening. The chef comes out from the back and starts loving and petting on the dog. I have been given the stink eye by every Parisian but this dog is Gerard Depardeaux? No thank you. 

It was the chef's dog. He goes to the restaurant nightly and hangs out eating bread. Adorable. Absolutely adorable. and now everyone in the restaurant has heard this story and wants to come over and feed/pet this dog. At the table just inches from ours. Not cool, pup. Not cool. Every drunk, cigarette smoking, smelly Parisian made their way over to our adjacent table as if we didn't exist. 

So this is how I spent my last night in Paris. 

Paris. 

I'd had such high hopes. TV and movies had really led me to believe that I would be riding a bike to buy a baguette in a scarf and beret while accordion music played in the background. Instead of dodging annoying mimes, I was dodging people asking me to sign a petition to stop illegal human trafficking while their accomplice picked my pocket. TV and movies had never prepared me for the fact that my husband would be walking around with his backpack on his front.Like one of those fake pregnancy bellies.  At the suggestion of POLICE. I don't care who recommends that, you are never ready to see your husband walking around with a backpack on the front. 

PLEASE do not mistake this post as being ungrateful. I was very fortunate to have a husband who would thoughtfully plan this trip and make my dream come true. It is sad now to think that I am glad I got to go just before a global pandemic. Everyone should go to Paris. It is full of history and beauty; it is also full of terrible smells, rude people and body parts passed off as food that should be illegal. 

I wonder if Lauren Conrad knew all this about Paris and that is why she chose not to go.....