Pinch-myself-moments seem to be a normal occurrence in my Parisian life. You know what I am talking about; those moments that you can’t believe are real, when you want to pinch yourself to see if you’ll wake up, because it’s so great that you feel as though you might be dreaming. (Oh and after seeing Inception, I’m thinking that it’s quite possible that the entire last five months might be one very long dream created by a very clever architect, but I suppose my neurosis surrounding that film is a whole other story.) Pinch-myself-moments happen to me when I’m least expecting it. I’ll be walking down the street and look up and spy the Eiffel Tower playing peek-a-boo between two buildings; I’ll be sitting in a café with some friends drinking numerous bottles of rosé because that’s what people do in Paris on a Sunday; or I’ll be in a practical class at school whipping what feels like my one hundredth bowl of egg whites (by hand) and I’ll stop for just a second in amazement and bask in the reality of my life.
About thirty minutes ago I had another one of those moments and I thought I’d share it with you, like the aforementioned examples of pinch-myself-moments, it wasn’t all that spectacular, but it was another reminder of how truly fortunate I am to be here in Paris. I was riding my bike home on one of my normal routes, when I happened to look up at a certain moment and see a beautiful angle of Saint-Sulpice Church backed by a lovely lavender Parisian sky, then I looked down to my bike basket filled with the wine, chunk of Roquefort cheese, pinot noir confiture, white peaches, and freshly baked walnut bread that I had just bought at Le Bon Marché and poof, just like that, a pinch-myself-moment. I warned you that it wasn’t spectacular, but it was just enough to remind me not to take it all for granted. Remind me that I need to enjoy the rainy days, just as much as the sunny days, because it’s on those rainy days that you get lovely lavender skies.
