Life Swapping in Paris and SF
Meet Mira. Plus, Trader Joe's, Daisy Jones, and The Jetsons!
Greetings from San Francisco! I’ve been here exactly a week and I’m a walking cliché because I’ve already had two burritos. So far, I’ve determined I don’t like them with lettuce or meat, but I do want sour cream and avocado. I’m still undecided about whether I prefer refried or black beans, but I’m leaning towards refried because I like a mushy bite. My Oakland-based cousin was trying to get me to drop the rice; says it’s how purists eat them. But I think I’d still like to keep the starch in. You’re welcome for this important information!
So far, being back in the States has been…easy. Pleasant. Comforting. Removing the language barrier, no matter how good my French has gotten, definitely allows me to lower my shoulders a bit; to be myself and communicate or connect more freely. In chatting with people, I’ve been shown such kindness. When I arrived and went back down to the first floor to fetch my larger suitcase, a neighbor offered to help me lug it up the three flights. The next day, upon showing up at a coffee shop just as they were closing, I explained how jetlagged I was and that I needed a fix to keep me awake past sunset. All they could offer was the last of the drip. “Perfect!” I said. “That’s what I want anyway.” As I was pulling out my wallet to pay, they said no need. They’d already started counting the register and were going to toss it anyway. Then, at a bakery, I expressed aloud that I couldn’t decide between a cupcake and a cookie. Ultimately, I went with the cupcake, but the girl threw in a cookie, too. Then, I was invited to a friend of a friend’s Passover seder next week! So yea. I’d say my reimmersion into American society has been going well. If only the local news didn’t involve completely contrasting behaviors that result in the deaths of more children at the hands of assault rifles and a former president who despite being indicted on fraud charges can still run for office in 2024…
But let’s keep things positive. In fact, let’s talk about kismet!
Enter Mira. Mira is now the owner of my apartment in Paris—and the person whose apartment I’m staying at in SF—but only 2.5 years ago she was someone I met through Airbnb. During our first encounter in September 2020, I only saw half her face because it was still early days post-pandemic and we had masks on when she checked into Chez Moi. She already knew my neighborhood well and stayed a couple more times after that, so when my apartment went up for sale a year or so later I casually mentioned it to her—despite knowing she lived and worked full-time in SF. We’d just run into each other on the street, which would soon become a thing we do, and while sipping cafe cremes along the Seine, she said, without hesitation: “I’d buy your apartment!” Fast-forward about a year (and a whole ton of bureaucratic paperwork because nothing in life, let alone France, is that easy), and she did! Now, this blond-haired, marathon-running, France-loving, yogi-hiker kind, and generous woman is my landlord. But she’s also become a friend. It almost feels like we’re kindred spirits.
In addition to bumping into each other unexpectedly, even outside our neighborhood in Paris, we are alike in many ways. There’s the hiking. The yoga. Loving natural light, top-floor apartments, and quality coffee. We have near-identical cookbook and novel collections, are the same size shoe, and even chose the same style of Goodr sunglasses, which is great because I’ve lost mine. Twice. (Promise to replace them if I borrow them, Mira!) We’re around the same age, and she’s also single, which means in addition to swapping apartments, we’ve also been swapping stories about swiping left and right. (And, oui, she’s permitted me to share all of this.)
She’s truly awesome and I feel so fortunate that she’s come into my life. We are both getting to live out a petite fantasy by swapping apartments this spring. The only downside is we’re not in the same place at the same time! We’re like two ships in the night. Or airplanes in the afternoon, as it were. She took the exact same Air France jet I arrived on last week! As I was disembarking at 2:30p.m. at SFO, she was waiting on the other side of the wall to board the 4:15 flight to CDG. Thankfully, I’m staying in SF a few weeks longer than she’s staying in Paris due to another swap she arranged with a friend of hers who lives in a different part of the city, so we’ll finally get the chance to foster our friendship further.
’Til then, we’ll continue with our Holiday-esque exchange. (TBD on who gets Jude Law.) But like Cameron and Kate, I’m confident we’ll remain in each other’s lives no matter where in the world we call home. But hey Mira, how do you take your burrito?
Clickable
Doing Dishes: Clean-as-you-go or a pile-it-up? | Bon Appetit
The ethics of thrifting and upselling. | British Vogue
Ugly-cool shoes are here to stay. Yay! | The Atlantic
Nan Goldin’s beauty and bloodshed. | The Cut
The nostalgic allure of a rewatch. | Gloria
Mom and Dad influencers: legit bossy parents. | Teen Vogue
In pursuit of new friends on a trip. | New York Times Magazine
Watchable
The first thing I did on my second day in SF was seek out the nearest TJ’s. Funnily enough, I only got on board the TJ’s train about 10 years ago when I first went freelance and started scrutinizing the prices of things more closely. (This is also when I embarked on a Dry Cleaners Hunt and spent an afternoon walking around my West Village neighborhood reviewing the price lists at each, only to discover one charged $7 for a skirt, while another charged almost double! Needless to say, I did switch over to the more cost-effective option, but also realized I should probably stop buying sequined clothing.) But I digress! We’re here to talk about TJ’s and my love for its low-cost, unique food items like choco bananas and honey-twist pretzels. My favorites list isn’t as long as most due to my living abroad, but I appreciated this video on how the chain remains successful.
On Repeat: ‘Aurora’ by Daisy Jones & The Six
Whether or not you’re watching Daisy Jones & The Six, the Amazon Prime series based on the bestselling novel of the same name, the original album they wrote and produced for the show is something special. It’s remarkable that the actors—all of whom are not professional musicians—learned how to sing and play instruments for their roles as members of a 1970s rock band. Despite their being a “fake” group, the music they made is legit. It’s the perfect soundtrack for my San Francisco sojourn—fringe, flower crowns, and rock n’ roll, baby! I especially love “Let Me Down Easy,” “Look at us Now (Honeycomb),” and “Regret Me,” but I say just do as they did in the good ’ole days and let the album play from start to finish. Record player recommend!
Currently Overthinking…
…whether to attend two Passover seders or one…
Souvenir: The Jetsons
The emergence of ChatGPT got me thinkin’ about robots, which got me thinkin’ of The Jetsons! Remember George, Jane, Judy, Elroy, and Astro? (Full disclosure: I only remembered George and Judy. Thank you, Google!) Despite first airing in 1962—and only running for three seasons—I recall watching this cartoon and thinking there was no WAY I’d live to see inventions like flying cars and robots. Alas, no flying cars (yet), but we’ve got drones and robots who can plan vacations so…