this just in: i am a world-renowned cat-sitter
too many en dashes in that title i'm so sorry no i'm not
Surprise, mes amis et ennemis! I am cat-sitting in Paris. So far, here are the highlights:
people are seeing cowboy boots for the first time, and it’s because i’m wearing them
looking you up and down and then making eye contact with you is something Parisiens are not afraid to do
i flew over 3,000 miles away just for the people sitting next to me at this wine bar to be discussing whether or not they should move to Astoria
i can’t go one day without stumbling upon a deaf-owned business (this is simply untrue, but it did happen on day one)
Parisiens walk way too fast; as someone who is always walking ahead of everyone, take it from me — New Yorkers wouldn’t stand a chance
when little kids cry it sounds French like it’s not the same sound as a kid crying in the United States
un cappuccino avec d’avoin, s’il te plaît winky face ;)
Once I arrived, I took a shower and then sat on the sofa for 30 minutes, trying to build up the courage to go outside. “Say ‘Bonjour’ to one person, Kerry. They all say it! It’s a real word, no matter how fake it may sound. Ever since you heard Steve Martin say it in The Pink Panther, you thought he made it up and no one will convince you otherwise. But it doesn’t matter because they believe it’s real here. So when someone says ‘Bonjour,’ do NOT say ‘Hello!’ Don’t give yourself away so easily! Just go outside and buy a baguette. Everyone is walking around eating whole baguettes. This is YOUR city, Cunningham. Eating baguettes in public is exactly the kind of person YOU are. Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité. God bless. I am currently one croissant and two glasses of wine deep right now.
On my second day, I was gifted the greatest compliment a girl like me could ever receive: “I wanted to stop you because I really love your look.” IN THE FASHION CAPITAL OF THE WORLD.
“Where are you from?”
“New York.”
“Ah, I could have guessed — a beautiful girl from New York.”
I’m just writing direct quotes, you guys. These are not my words, except for the part where I say, “New York.” That’s so me hahahahahaha it’s so me.
I was sweating from my boobs at this moment, and I believe it was noticeable. Well, it felt noticeable, that’s for sure.
“Are you accustomed to how the French greet each other?”
“Yeah, with the kissys on the cheekys.” Girl, what the hell. Can you converse normally for once?
Every chair at an outdoor bar or café faces outward so that you can look at every person who walks by. It almost feels rude not to look because of that. I also can’t tell if I just look super American or something because people here are looking at me no matter what I’m doing. Maybe it’s the cowboy boots? Or the Eiffel Tower tattoo I got on my face at the Charles de Gaulle Airport? Oh, no, sorry, that was a dream. Ugh, I’m thinking about it more and more, and the staring can only be because I’m gorgeous. Being a girl is so hard; don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
It could also be because of the outward-facing chairs. No! It is beauty it is grace it is Kerry from the United States.
I’m working on enjoying and appreciating being alone while I’m here. I want there to be no option of seeing a friend. We all need to be comfy with being alone, or we’ll never truly be independent people. Paris is my portal to acceptance. To independence. To another baguette please merci beaucoup honey.
The fashion gets better every day I’m here. At the same time, my period only gets worse. It’s my favorite type of style: when you look like you didn’t try but still somehow look amazing because everything in your closet is amazing. It’s a gift. This man just walked by in an oversized, boxy t-shirt, cropped, baggy pants, and Prada boots. This woman sitting across from me has on a red, oversized, linen button-down (oversized seems to be a choice here), a denim jacket, white cropped pants, and vintage loafers. It’s too cool — I’m telling you. This other lady has white, low-rise pants on, a tight black long-sleeve shirt, cowboy boots, and red acrylic nails for the first time in her life. How do I know it’s her first time with acrylics, you ask? Because I’m talking about me. I am a fashion girl here. I’m sure there’s someone else nearby writing about what I’m wearing the way I’m writing about what they’re wearing. Hopefully.
One of my favorite games to play when I’m people-watching is called ~ The Main Character Game ~ which is when you try to figure out if the person you’re staring at is a main character or a side character. I’ll give you some famous examples:
Zendaya — main character
Hillary Clinton — side character, no matter how hard she tries
the homeless Irish woman in Home Alone 2: Lost in New York — main character in a different main character’s story and I couldn’t be more right about that
Lana Del Rey — main character, just read or listen to any of her lyrics
Taylor Swift — the evil villain in Lana Del Rey’s story somehow … I guess a main character in her own way
Ryan Gosling — side character, but he’s happy with that
the busboy at your go-to bar — main character
the bartender at your go-to bar — side character
Do we understand now? Fun game so fun! I’ve been doing this all over Paris. There are so many main characters here, but there are also so many side characters (that can literally be anywhere, Ker—I KNOW STOP). But I’ll show you:
I’ve got some more time in this city, so you’ll get another Parisien Circle Back next week. Whenever I have a moment here to think about anything that can stress me out back home, I have to remind myself that things in my life are actually fine. There are always things to stress about, but it doesn’t mean I have to. Apartment stress? I will never be homeless. Money stress? I will always make more. Social stress? People will always be there. Whatever happens will happen. I will always figure it out. I’m in Paris!!!!
I can’t believe how chic I look here — like, I am as surprised as all of you are. Again, not my words; this came directly from a Frenchman. And I’m sure he was just being very genuine and had no other motives.
The last thing I wanna mention is something I’m sure we’ve all been made aware of in the past day, if not way before that: Iran launched a bunch of drones and missiles toward Israel in response to Israel’s deadly attack on the Iranian consulate in Syria. Most of them were intercepted, with the help of Israel’s number one supporter — the U.S. military. And of course, most of what we’re seeing and hearing in the media and from our government is that Iran is a terrorist country and that World War III is getting closer by the second.
Shall I remind all of Western civilization that Israel is committing genocide right now, and denouncing Iran’s deflected attack on them is extremely ironic?!?! Do we need that reminder? The U.S. spent nearly one billion dollars on interceptors last night, and we don’t have universal healthcare? Girl, what the fuck.
I also hate that the first things I saw on social media about Iran and Israel were tweets (probably from bots) that said:
RT for Israel, Like for Iran!
Who would you support in WWIII? RT for Israel, Like for Iran!
Someone please take all of our rights away.
You did it, Joe — history will remember!
tv rec: Call My Agent! — very funny French show on Netflix
book rec: Chéri by Colette
music rec: Valebol by Valebol — I can’t stop listening to it !
une personne á admirer parce qu’elle est élégante et magnifique: moi
J’amie Paris! 🇫🇷