It's Me, Sara Louise

Bonjour tout le monde! Today I’m introducing you to my friend Adrienne. I’d love to give her the fantastic introduction that she deserves but nothing I could write today would do her justice… Mr. London and Toulon won the Heineken Cup championship last night here in Dublin (that means they’re the rugby champions of Europe for those that don’t know what the Heinken Cup is) and boy oh boy did we celebrate… like getting home after 5AM kind of celebrating. It’s like zombie central around here. So please give Adrienne a warm Le Petit Village welcome (I’m going night night).

Bonjour! My name is Adrienne and I write the blog, The Rich Life (on a budget). Sara Louise asked me to guest post for her while she is away.  And I am honored to write in her absence.

I decided to tell you about how I contracted a Paris-ite several years ago, which led me to find Sara in Le Petit Village.

Like many people, I wanted to visit Paris since I was old enough to know what Paris was. I knew my life would be complete if I could just stand under the Eiffel Tower, a baguette in one hand, a wedge of brie in the other while wearing Breton stripes and a beret.

When I was 35, I asked my husband if he would take me to Paris for my 40th birthday, giving him plenty of time to prepare. Being the awesome man that he is, he didn’t disappoint and surprised me with two plane tickets and a week-long stay at a pied-a-terre in le Marais.

I fell hard for Paris, like a lovesick girl. I cried actual tears when I saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time, brought rocks and leaves that I found in parks and carried them home on the plane with me. I even kept the wrapper off the cheese we bought. That’s about the point where things got a little weird. I believe I caught what I call a ‘Paris-ite’, which I define as an unreasonable and intense obsession with all things French. ALL things French…even garbage.

When I returned home to California, my obsession didn’t lessen. Wanting to capture more of France, I spent untold hours scouring the web for anything and everything French. And that’s how I found Sara in Le Petit Village. I instantly adored her blog and thought to myself, If Sara, an American, can live in France, why can’t I?

I decided to learn French like Sara did and become fluent enough to teach English to the French. During the time it took to learn French here in California, I would convince my husband to move to France, bringing along my teenage stepdaughter, four dogs and a cat.

Pas de probleme! So what if my husband is not French like Sara’s and says Bonjour when he means Au Revoir. So what if he has a long and successful career in California as a firefighter! They have firefighters in France.

Convincing my husband to move was impossible. But I did manage to convince him to go back to Paris to celebrate our 10-year wedding anniversary.

When I returned from that trip I slowly started to realize some of my ideas might be just a tad extreme and an isty bit unrealistic. Eventually, I recognized that living in California’s wine country ain’t really so bad.

France will always be there, it’s just a really long and really expensive flight away.
While I still dream of living in a pied-a-terre in Paris or becoming Sara’s next door neighbor in The LPV for a month or two (don’t worry, I am not coming to the LPV anytime soon), I can appreciate France from afar.

On my next trip to Europe I hope to meet Sara, The Husband, and the whole cast of characters in The LPV. Hopefully I won’t pick up a LPVV – Le Petit Village Virus – while I’m there. I hear it makes people want to suddenly quit their jobs, move to the French countryside and become honey farmers.