Oh, my dear readers, how I missed you. And thank you for your kind concern, but indeed as soon as I managed to escape from the ex's apartment my Paris adventure became wondrous. From the jazz musicians playing outside of Notre Dame while I drank mulled wine to hearing the nuns sing in Sacre Coeur to managing to redefine Room Service with a particularly cute hotel staff member, I had a fabulous trip. Strangely in Paris I believe in God. Nowhere else in the world but in Paris because only there do I see how events are interconnected, how a chance meeting in a cafe can result in an unexpected exploration of Paris in January. But most importantly, in Paris I remember who I am and I am capable of, which is nothing short of greatness. And as always, I left a path heartbroken men in my wake.

In 1805 Napoleon promised his men "You shall go home beneath triumphal arches." And this I have done.

I will be posting the Frehel diaries starting tomorrow while I type up my notes on Paris. I know the suspense it's killing you. (The Frehel Diaries are actually, for the most part, written so it won't take long.) Until then you can entertain yourself with these photos of my trip. (And no my hotel hook up isn't figured there, but he was adorable I assure you.)

And I'm already beginning starting to feel the return from trip malaise, the oh my god I have to vacuum, clean the closet and bathroom, go grocery shopping, do the laundry, write my brilliant adventures, send out thank you notes, and recover from my dread illness in the 12 days before I go back to work. So keep on being supportive people because these next 12 days are going to be like a marathon for me.