gourmande.

If/when I move back to the US, I swear to sweet baby Jeebus, I will miss the jaw-droppingly savory, delicious, candy-like taste of fresh strawberries in the spring. You think you've tasted strawberries before --  you know the ones that are about the size of your fist you can find year round in most supermarkets. But then you stroll through the French market in early-April and the scent of fresh strawberries takes over your better judgement and suddenly you're dropping 3,50E on a tiny plastic basket of the most glorious red berries you've ever seen.

I would put this right up there on my list of reasons I love living here, right below the accessibility of xuxos  (pronounced "chuchos") in the Catalan region of Spain. In a nutshell: pastry of the GODS.

un enfant gâté

I'm a spoiled birthday brat. I had such a good day -- no work, sleeping in, some shopping with mumhead, fresh strawberries, playing with a cute dog, burritos, a sweet kindle for me to blow my savings on, banoffee pie and a hot date at the movies where we watched Ryan Gosling parade around without a shirt and brood tragically.

It was so good that I almost forgot about turning 26. And then I was all like..

Really though, I just wanted an excuse to post this cat. I love it.

je suis têtue. voilà.

I've been adventure-less since my last trip to Stockholm (so much for resolutions, eh) meaning that now I have to find other things to blog about. I guess I don't really have to, but well, since we're both already here...

Three years in a foreign country can change a person. Not me! I'm stubborn past the point of reason! So, two years after the first, I've made another list of things that I'll never find it in me to adapt to. 

1. Anytime someone dictates their phone number to me in French, I come to the pathetic realization that I still have difficulty counting above 70. Four-twenty-ten-eight, what kind of sadistic fool decided that this was the best approach to 98?? Elementary school-aged children will know where I'm coming from on this one (holla!).
2. The subjunctive continues to be the wretched and persistent thorn in my ability to speak properly.
3. Every time someone talks to me about a distance, I have to get out my phone to convert into feet or miles.
4. Same goes for kilos and pounds.
5. Conversely, celsius makes far more sense now than fahrenheit. Just deal with it.
6. I refuse to buy into the French notion of "salad." Apparently you can have a tomato salad here -- just tomatoes, nothing else. Where I'm from, that's a garnish. 
7. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to having to bisou people that I've just met and will probably never see again. 
8. I love cheese, but I've given up on ever coming around to fondue or raclette. It smells like feet!
9. This one should be really easy in principle, but saying bon appetit just before starting to eat with someone is something I can't do. Saying it makes me feel like a douchebag server at a restaurant and those days are behind me!
10. Accepting the French national sport of cutting in line. I can't even with this one.

To finish, here's a picture of the world's cutest dog:

you're welcome.

Hej!

Before going to Stockholm, I honestly didn't have a lot to go on as far as the culture/people/city/food etc (besides having watched this video which I'm telling you, you must watch because it's totally absurd and it turns out that slut is a legitimate word in Swedish). But here are a few thoughts I've collected about this wonderfully frigid city from a very short weekend there.

• The Swedes are a friendly and pleasant people, even in restaurants and shops. Articulating this makes me realize how poor the customer service is in France which makes me resent living here a little.
• In a pub, a decent pint of beer is about 59-69 Swedish kroner. 1 kroner = .12 euro. Thus, one beer is 7-8 euro (9-10 dollars). Ok so maybe France isn't so terrible.
• They have free, public skating rinks in the park!

• To say hello, the Swedish word is "hej," which to us sounds a little bit like an elongated "heyyyyyy." So, when you go into a shop, you're greeted with "heyyyyy" and you feel like the person behind the counter already knows you from somewhere. 
• Swedish people speak like well-mannered Americans.
• Did I mention shit was expensive?
• Something living under the Arizona sun did not teach me: walking outside in 19 degrees feels abrasively cold against your skin. It hurts. 
• Unanswered questions for future trips: what exactly is "Swedish" cuisine? 

More adventures (hopefully) to come!

à bientôt... slut.