Congratulations for successfully surviving the rapture and being a prized recipient of my end-of-the-year newsletter! I know—2011 flew by. It was a big year and one packed full of some significant adjustment and life-changers.
Most significantly, after much debate, I decided to get cable TV. It was a big decision and I can’t say that I actually watch much cable, but it is nice to have the option to keep up with the Kardashians, should I want to (though I haven’t). But I am officially caught up on all seasons of How I Met Your Mother. Progress! No, I still haven’t seen Mad Men, Glee, or any vampire-related series, thus limiting my excitement of the Golden Globes.
Also noteworthy, I moved my bed from under the window, to the southeast wall of my bedroom, and I have to admit, feng shui design could be my next calling. Attaching my footboard to the bed frame, however, is not. But whatever, because even more noteworthy, Kiki has been successfully trained to sleep on her own bed, on the floor.
With life’s pendulum on the upswing, I optimistically attempted a self-makeover by parting my hair down the middle. I realized that I’m not ready for such huge transformations and changed it back to the original side part. Can’t win them all, I suppose.
2011 will officially go down as “The Year My-Grandmother-Ruined-My-Fondness-for-Mimi’s-Café.” Advice for 2012: Don't drink coffee after wine on an empty stomach. Special thanks to Eric for the new-car-scent air freshener. It was also the year that I moved back to California after living in France for the previous 15 months as an au pair to French children, a European traveler, topless Croatian beach goer, and girlfriend to a devoted French man. I became particularly proficient in all things French—including speaking it—and then promptly lost all proficiency when I moved back to California. Had I found a suitable job in France, I might still be there, still speaking French, but here’s the bottom line: Life is short, time is precious, and living under someone else’s roof, caring for their kids, was not fulfilling. I am not the next Mary Poppins. However, each time I bite into an American-made baguette, I instantly long for France. But because the weather here in California remains constantly pleasant and Americans are so warm, and most of all, I love being able to eat breakfast—alone—in my underwear (should I desire), I have remained content in being back home.
Something I didn’t love about 2011? Coming back to a land of touchscreen cell phones. If my quota of texts to you has dramatically dropped in 2011, this is why. Also, coming back to a country with persistent economic problems—an interesting element in trying to find a job. But it worked out because instead, I enjoyed many mother-daughter outings and errands as my mom was also conveniently between her UCI and current Kaiser position. I also started indoor cycling classes at the gym, attempted hot-yoga, hated hot-yoga, and completed my first 15k mud-run race, obstacles included. Okay, it was actually three separate 5k races on three separate occasions with three separate enrollment fees, but the former makes me sound much more accomplished.
With down time, I went to see Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, despite my aversion to Woody Allen, himself. Here’s the thing: if you have lived in Paris, then leave Paris, any movies filmed in Paris will be unwatchable until the crushing depression of missing the World’s Best City has lifted. Since it didn’t, and I was still doing long-distance with the above-referenced French boyfriend, I took advantage of being unemployed to return to France for a few weeks. While there, we took a hop, a skip and a jumpy flight over to his Portugal hometown where I became astounded by how such a relaxed culture could simultaneously be such aggressive drivers.
