Paris Day 37: A Trip to Nice-Ville

Really, that’s the name of the train station in Nice, France. I thought it was appropriate since someone is livid that I’ve spoken publicly about my husband’s affair and I’ve been instructed to be very careful about what I write and tweet. O.o This means, I won’t be mentioning the affair after this post because I can’t.

But that’s beside the point – despite all the craziness I wrote about in my last post, things aren’t all doom and gloom. Yes, my heart’s been broken and yes, I’m struggling to make sense of what’s happened, but the good times are excellent. Waking up from a nightmare is always a good thing. Especially if there’s someone there to hold you and help wipe away the tears.

So, let’s get back to our regular programming, shall we?

Last weekend, Bug and I took a trip to the beach town of Nice. I’d written up a lengthy post about para-sailing and drinking champagne next to the sea, but WordPress ate it. Since I’m too lazy to re-do it, here is a truncated, photo-heavy version.

Nothing like ice cold champagne on a hot day to lift the spirits.

Nice has private beaches that come with waiters, chaise lounges, towels, and umbrellas; or it has public beaches which are free, but are basically piles of rocks you can spread a towel over. We chose to pay for the hotel’s private beach.

The demarcation line between the public and private beach.
A better illustration of the difference between the private accommodations and the public beach’s rocks. Bonus shot of me giving Bug the evil eye.

Before I forget, this was the view from the bed. Gorgeous, non?

I’m just a little spoiled.

We never ventured beyond the beach and the hotel. Partly, because we were too lazy, and partly, because there was no reason. We ate lunch at the beach, and breakfast and dinner on our balcony

Gratuitous bikini shot because I get up at 5:30am to go to my trainer’s and run like a mad woman. Plus, I look genuinely happy.

We were supposed to leave on Monday, but as we were checking out, Bug looked at me and asked, “Do you want to stay another day?” Ummm…yes. They gave us back our room and we promptly headed to the beach again.

He dared me to try the fish pedicure thing. It felt like dozens of weak spa jets blasting my feet and legs, and afterward, my skin felt silky smooth. Of course, when we got back to our beach chairs, I started reading about fish pedicure bacterial infections and freaked myself out.

Gross? Cool? I’m still undecided.

Before I close, I need to thank everyone who reached out via direct message and email to give me support and/or share their stories after my last post. Knowing I’m not alone helps make everything a little more bearable.

Okay, on to finishing Nightingale edits!

Paris Day 27: The World’s Most Expensive FAX

Ever hear the one about the man who needed to fax something but couldn’t find an internet cafe near his wife’s therapist so he booked a room on the Champs Elysee JUST TO USE THE BUSINESS CENTER since it was for guests only?

Yeah. That would be my husband.

In all fairness, I wasn’t feeling well after our appointment and the thought of not having to stand on the Metro for twenty minutes appealed to me. Plus, Bug had errands in that neighborhood later in the day, so in a not-so-sensical way, it made sense to just stay in a hotel for the night.

However, we had no clothes or toiletries and I think the staff thought we were either 1. Insane; or 2. Illicit lovers. They kept giving me knowing smiles and laughing at us. The business center host, upon seeing us return after she shoo’d us away because we weren’t guests, actually stared at Bug slack jawed when he flashed her the room key. So, yes, it was slightly insane, but Bug was able to fax his forms and I got to watch the cringe-worthy Young Adult on pay-per-view while he was out. Even better, he returned with macarons for me, so all-in-all, it was a win 😀

Today, instead of going straight home, we meandered around satisfying our mutual love of jewelry and watches. Dear God, where has the Rue de la Paix been all my life? Seriously, Panerai, Van Clef & Arpels, Tiffany, Cartier…it was sparkly sensory overload, but I somehow managed to get through it and pick out a ring I loved. Only problem is that it has to be shipped from Germany or something because no one in France carries the size or color I want.

As we wandered around, I became more aware that I had lived in this dress for about thirty-six hours and quite possibly smelled terrible despite showering. Plus, at this point, the dress may have very well been able to walk around on its own. Still, for a 7 euro H&M dress, I have to say, it held up very well. Didn’t bag out or lose its shape.

A little blurry, but you can see the shape.
BIRDS (and yes, it’s in need of an iron)

And because it’s awesome: A giant macaron.

Tomorrow, I think I may drag Bug on a tour of the Opera or the Catacombs since I need to do a little research for my next book. Good money he picks the Opera 😀


Paris Day 12: Sales and Depression

For those that don’t know, July in France means one important thing: Sale Season. Twice a year, the entire country hosts sales for a month. During this time, you can find amazing deals – and since Bug and I love to shop, it’s been like dropping two drug addicts off in the middle of crack den.

Yesterday, I met my friend Veronica for early afternoon drinks while Bug took a little down time. Being here has been good for him, and I’ve actually seen him smile for the first time in probably eight months. No more mean, scowling pictures posted on Instagram or Facebook, but real, genuine smiles. And laughter. I haven’t heard my husband laugh in months. Someday, when I have more clarity, I’ll tell you the story of what’s happened to us since his accident nearly two years ago, but for now, I’m thrilled I can say that he’s slowly climbing out of his depression and fog, and getting the help he needs here in Paris.

While I was out, he texted to say he’d bought me a surprise. I was pretty sure I knew what it was, because the morning he arrived, he mentioned a dress he saw on the way from the Metro to the apartment that remind him of me. And I knew the exact dress because it had caught my eye. So when I returned home, he had this waiting for me:

In the Tuilleries, enjoying a warm day. Yeah, I do like to dress like a manic art teacher, so what?

And then I took myself out for a little more shopping and came home with these:

Marc Jacobs bag – on sale. Could Not Resist.
Orange! My favorite color.

Really, today was mostly shopping and eating and talking. Nothing too exciting.

But to all the friends and family who have reached out to me over the past several months, concerned about Bug and his behavior, worried about the state of his erratic mind and my well-being, thank you. Things are going to get better. They already are.

The smile I love.