Paris/London Day 12: EVACUATE!

Ha!

The past two days have been full of excitement. After deciding the French will never fix the locked door and my shin makes me look like I went ten rounds in a cage fight, I let Bug convince me to join him in London. He’s here for business, and the plan was originally, he’d come to Paris when finished. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. My five day solo writing retreat was foiled by a group of French people who can’t decide who should pay for the locksmith.

I really wish that was a joke, but I’m being serious. No one wants the responsibility of paying, so the lock remains broken. Instead, we had this improvement: an IKEA stool to help us over the door. AWESOME.

stool
Looks safe, yes?

With just an hour to pack and get to the station, I threw all my important things in a small carry-on and headed over to Gare Nord. The train ride was pleasant, fast, and uneventful.

Bug met me at the station with flowers (he’s a sap like that) and we headed over to Brick Lane for dinner. Brick Lane has the best Indian food ever. We like a place called Preen – if you go, get the butter chicken, it’s amazing!

train station

So, yeah, that was my uneventful day. Then came today. I am jinxed.

First, I had a 10:30 am appointment which took 40 minutes to get to because of traffic. My driver kept asking me if he could join me (I was headed to Bliss for some spa treatments) and went into great detail about the difference between French and English lady “landscaping” or “hygiene” as he put it. My response: “Well, thankfully, I’m American.” Then I thanked my lady bits for not being of interest to him – lol.

After my appointment Bug joined me for lunch. We just ate at the hotel restaurant and it was delicious. I had a baked goat cheese and mushroom sandwich with zucchini and pepper. So. MUCH. YUM.

veggie burger

Completely stuffed, Bug went back to work and I sat down to write. Only I feel asleep while editing…ooops.

But have no fear! That’s about when the fire alarm sounded. I jumped up, grabbed my laptop, my purse and my jewelry and paused to read the fire exit info. Apparently, I’m the only person who does that, and I ended up leading most of my floor not toward the elevators but to the stairwells in the opposite direction. (SEE BUG, THIS IS WHEN MY ANAL OBSESSION WITH HOTEL SAFETY COMES IN USEFUL).

I never did find out what happened, but I got to stand outside with my floormates for thirty minutes. Now I’m hanging in the lobby, having tea, and editing.

Not a bad day. Not at all.

Outfit Post: Rainy Day

 

I’ve been frantically typing, typing, typing to finish last minute edits on Nightingale all week, which means I’ve been skipping all the fun afternoon activities (Paris Sewer Museum, anyone?) and only emerge from my apartment for meals. Bug is going to do a post for me later this week on Le Grand Metro Ride, the Sewer Museum, and the Notre Dame bell tower, but until then all I’ve got is an outfit post.

Today’s look was inspired by this pin on Pintrest:

This is what I pulled together from my closet. Pretty close, right?

The outfit:

Dress: Zara

Sweater: Zara

Belt: Banana Republic

Boots: Repetto

Necklace: Banana Republic

Bracelet: Dawali; Blue Rebel nail polish from Chanel.

Leggings: Wolford Velvet de Luxe 50 in Admiral

The Schedule:

8:30am – Roll out of bed

10am – Tidy up house, take a shower, mess around online after Bug and the boys leave for Notre Dame.

11am – Start trying to write the Nightingale dedication and acknowledgement pages.

11:30am – Stare out window, make new playlist, read the news.

12:15pm – Bug and the boys arrive home, frozen and hungry.

12:30pm – Head out to lunch. Tried a Japanese place near our apartment. Super good. Must find the name.

2pm- Drop boys off at home. Bug and I stroll down the street and do a little shopping.

3pm – Return home while Bug does the grocery shopping. Get the boys started on their Anne Frank reports. The Colonel decides he’s going to draw pictures of Napoleon getting “beat by the Russian Team,” followed shortly by, “Marie Antoinette being guillotined.” Consider if this means I’m raising a sociopath. Decide he’s just a fan of history.

4pm -5:30pm – Bug and I try to nail down where we’re going next week. The East Coast is becoming more and more likely, although London is still in the running.

6:30pm –  A home cooked dinner, prepared in our mini-kitchen by Bug. Steak haché for two boys, rostisserie chicken for the adults, and a falafel sandwich from the corner shop for Pudge.

8pm – Bedtime for the boys.

Rest of the evening – probably drinks across the street then a movie at home.

And just because I think he’s adorable, here’s The Colonel. He’s taken to dressing French and insists on wearing scarves, button-up shirts and “fancy” clothes.

The Colonel before our front door. Dapper, isn’t he?