The Bold Soul: A Writer's Life in Paris

Because sometimes it just has to be said

Men, you have my permission to avert your eyes from what I am about to say. (giving them a moment to run and hide) Ok. Deep breath. And... IS IT FUCKING FAIR THAT WE WOMEN OF A CERTAIN AGE HAVE TO DEAL WITH MENSTRUAL CRAMPS AND TAMPONS, *AND* ALSO HOT FLASHES AND CRYING JAGS AND WORSE MOOD SWINGS THAN WE EVER HAD AT 16, ALL IN THE NAME OF THE MENOPAUSE YEARS? And the only acceptable answer? Is NO. I wish my body would get over the fence, already. Pick a side, dude. Read more →

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition

I get the distinct feeling I'm being watched. Well, perhaps not "watched", so much as "wondered about". Yesterday, my mother called me at 5:30 am HER time, which even for her is a bit extreme; she said she woke up early, as she sometimes does at age 75 (she'd probably kick my ass from Paris to Prague if she knew I just told 100,000 strangers her real age) and was "thinking about me". Wondering if I was all right. Then in the next half hour she proceeded to ask grill me 3 more times how I was; was everything ok; was I feeling all right? No amount of my replying, "I'm fine, Mom. I'm great. Really great. Super great! Never better! I'm deliriously well and happy! I'M FREAKING FINE, ALREADY, NOW CAN YOU GET OFF MY BACK?!" seemed to satisfy her. Sometimes, she gets that way. She's my mother and also a congenital worrier. So I chalked her Spanish Inquisition up to her just being Mom. But then I remembered that a few days ago, my best friend came right out and asked me the question I now suspect has been on the minds of millions thousands many at least... Read more →

L'Avantage

One consolation for finding out I am not pregnant (yet again) this month... is being able to enjoy the ritual of the spring apéro that took place in our courtyard this evening. I returned home about 8pm after spending a few hours with my new tutoring student (the young daughter of a friend of Georges who needs help with her English studies) to find our neighbors collected together in front of our maison, with nibbles and wine and beer, and of course soda and juice for the kids. Said children, about 5 or 6 of them, were enjoying the fact that there is no school for them on Wednesdays, so they got to run around in their pajamas and jackets, snatching taco chips and crackers in between chasing the gardienne's dog and each other. The super hot temperatures of yesterday gave way overnight, after a storm, to a breezy and chilly evening tonight, but no matter. Still felt like the first "block party" of the summer, à la française. And I am feeling rather mellow after a few small glasses of wine, and making plans with my one neighbor for a taste-test, soon, of my favorite Australian Shiraz that I... Read more →

Pluses & Minuses

I just took a look at my blog to see when I last posted something. It was on Friday. Today is now Monday Wednesday shit, what day is it? Tuesday. I am clearly losing track of the days. Time is slipping past me and I'm barely noticing, even when I forget scheduled appointments or nearly forgot to call my mother on Mother's day. And why is that? It's because most of my brain cells seem to be focused on One Thing, and One Thing Only, despite my efforts to think about more important things (like how in hell did Joan Rivers win Celebrity Apprentice and whose stupid idea -- Donald, I'm looking at you -- was it to create such an idiotic TV show in the first place?). And that One Thing is baby-making. I have heard it said that when a woman is pregnant, especially as she nears the end of her pregnancy, that she tends to be distracted because the delivery is near and she's thinking about getting through it in one piece; my mother, a former nurse, calls this "turning inward". But what about the woman who is trying to get pregnant? With rather long odds and... Read more →

There is the rule, and then there is the exception to the rule

I received a very thoughtful and caring comment today on my announcement that we're trying for a baby, in which long-time reader Andrea (hello, Andrea!) felt compelled to warn me (and my readers) about the chances, statistically speaking, of a woman over 40 getting pregnant without outside intervention. I don't know what Andrea's background is in this area, but clearly she felt very strongly that she had a message to share, and I do appreciate that she wanted to take the time to warn me. Let me start by saying that I realize that Andrea, and perhaps other readers, may be concerned about me trying to have a baby at my age, and that you genuinely want to be helpful. So I thank you for your good intentions, I truly do; it's nice to have people be concerned. Having said that, the comment, as kindly meant as it obviously was, stirred up some feelings that I also now feel compelled to share. Mainly because I don't want to spend the next year (or however long we decide to try for the baby), having to be reminded of the fertility statistics and how grim they generally are for women my age... Read more →

A not-quite-pregnant pause

I've been debating long and hard about whether and what to write about this, but decided that I want to be able to write as openly as possible about my life experiences here in France and as a newly married woman over 40. So since some readers have finally caught on (I've only been dropping hints for weeks just to see if anyone would notice), I'll lay it out on the table: Yes, Georges and I have decided to try for a baby. It is a conscious decision, not one taken lightly, and something that has surprised us both (since we neither of us thought of having a baby in the beginning) but something we are very much looking forward to. That's just how much we love each other. No, we're (I'm) not pregnant -- yet. We were hoping it might happen this month -- would have been cool to drop that bomb on my family when I'm in New Jersey in two weeks' time -- but it hasn't. C'est la vie. Better luck next time. Yes, we know we are both "of a certain age". And that as a result there are certain risks. And that it might not... Read more →