Lucky to have been where I have been, lucky to be coming home again.

Those who know me know how much I absolutely loathe packing. I do it so often (making international trips 5+ times a year) that I should be good at it, but I'm not. The first year that I lived in Paris, I dreaded going back to the States for the summer for this very reason. It's embarrassing to say now, but I actually called my mother and begged her to make the 5000 mile journey to help me pack up my belongings. The crazy part? She actually did. 

And she's here again, but not so eager to help me pack. I've spent the better part of the afternoon sifting through the objects I've acquired over the last few years of my life, dividing them into piles of "Take," "Toss," or "Take if I Have Room." This is especially hard for all of my books, because if I had the choice I would take every single one of them with me. Thankfully, my mother flew first class over here so she's allowed two 70-pound bags and a third 40-pound one. 

The comments that a couple of you left on my last post echo the sentiments of nearly everyone I meet. "You're moving back?" they ask, confounded. Yes, I am. Truth be told I'm quite excited to do so. Paris is, of course, an amazing city, and I love living here. But I wish to pursue higher education back in my home country, and I have to say it will be nice to live somewhere other than a big city for awhile. 

Nevertheless, you'll probably see a whiney comment or two here around August lamenting the fact that I won't be returning anytime soon. I'm just going to make the best of my last few days. 

Bisous!

Graduation, etc.

It's official ladies and gents, I am a college graduate. My degrees are in Film Studies and Global Communications. I didn't know this before I got to the ceremony, but I got university and departmental honors. For both my degrees! Bragging officially over. 

This is of course the reason for my extended absence. My good friend arrived on Friday to stay with me, and my mother arrived on Saturday to do the same. Since then, there's been the pre-graduation picnic (strawberries and champagne on the Champs de Mars!), the ceremony, the reception (hence the picture and yes, more champagne) and the post-grad gala which was an absolute blast. I wish all my weekends could be as heavenly. 

My friend left on Tuesday but my mother and I are staying until Monday. I am moving back to the States. On Monday. I will no longer live in France...ugh, this is madness! 

I promise my next post will be more coherent. I hope all is well with everyone, I have a lot of catching up to do on your blogs!

Alphabet Photos: Miscellany

Today, while wasting time before my mom arrived in Paris (more on that later), I walked around the Concorde area with a couple of my friends, café hopping, talking up a storm, and taking more alphabet photos. I'm almost embarrassed to say that a lot of conversations were cut short like this: 

Jillian: Yeah, that's really interest---hey that looks like an "O"! 

Followed by me whipping out the camera. To my surprise (and happiness) they told me this wasn't in the least bit annoying, and even helped me find some really good subjects for shots. I'm now attempting to get the whole alphabet before I leave. Here are U, V, and W, respectively. "V" was taken in the Carrousel du Louvre.  

Photo Fun: The Results!

I started my morning off by listening to "Lucky" by Jason Mraz, and moseyed on over to the Eiffel Tower to take the "A" letter shot. I found some other cool "letters" around the way, including "P" and "Y" but those weren't helpful for this project. (Remember, I'm trying to spell out my boyfriend's name, James -- see last post). In any case, I then took a bus up to the 18th arrondissement and spent about three hours walking around taking photos. Here are the ones I have so far with his name, I'm not too crazy about my "M," and the "S" was a total cop-out. I've got about a week left to finish up! I love my "J" though -- if you look closely you can see my reflection. I was walking down some random street thinking to myself, "Ugh, where am I going to find a 'J'?" I turned around and there it was! 

Admittedly, I am not a very good photographer, more of a point and click kind of girl. But I think they turned out alright -- and they look a lot more impressive side by side, trust me! 

Plan for the Day: Photo Fun

Last semester, my friend Melissa was taking a photography class. For that class, she completed a final project of her choosing. She chose to go around the city, taking pictures of "letters" she found around Paris. I've decided to brazenly copy that idea and make a gift for James. Despite the fact that he's aware I have a blog, I'm pretty sure he doesn't read it. If he does, HI JAMES -- close this window now!

You didn't close it, did you. Ah well. It doesn't have to be a surprise. I just hope it works out!

Now that that's out of the way, here's my idea -- I'm going to spend the day looking for objects that spell out his name, like the pictures above. (The "A" is going to be the Eiffel Tower...obviously!) I love being in Paris when I'm not in school -- I have so much time to do fun things!

Pet Names (Part Deux): Hi, My Name is Poodle Pants

A couple days ago I discussed pet names that couples have for one another. Well, my mother just sent James a message on Facebook (tangent: isn't it kind of scary to have tech savvy parents?) that read: 

"You probably know that I'm leaving Friday for Paris. Can't wait to see my Precious Poodle Pants! Just wanted to say hi and it will be nice to see you around again. Hope all is well with you." [Emphasis added].

Yes, I am Poodle Pants. Clearly, this was done in a bid to embarrass me, but I'm beyond that. I think it's hilarious. But it brings up an interesting question. 

Your parents probably spent hours agonizing over the perfect name for you. But, if they're anything like mine, they rarely call you by it (save times when they're angry. Then it's Jillian Marie...!). Why is that? The world may never know. 

My dad is actually the one who usually calls me Poodle. My dear mother's nickname for me? Mildred, sometimes shortened to Millie. Why? No one knows, not even her. It's been going on so long that I respond to that just as quickly as I respond to Jillian. Kinda funny, huh. 

Alright, moment of truth. What nicknames do your parents have for you? (Come on, even the embarrassing ones). Any interesting stories there? 

The End of an Era: Part Deux

Today was officially my last day of college. I attended my last "final," which consisted of me, the other six people in my seminar, and my professor sitting at a café near school discussing our theses. Some of them had wine, the prof had a beer, my friend Melissa and I drank champagne. It was marvelous. 

My favorite moment was when our prof went to the restroom and one of my classmates ordered him another beer. When he returned, he looked at the beer, confused, and we all laughed, explaining the situation. He laughed and said, "What if I were a mean drunk?" We then giggled about the possibility of him changing our grades in a drunken stupor. This of course didn't happen, because he wasn't drunk, and our grades were already set!

Which brings me to a little gloating. I got an A- on my thesis! Normally, this would anger me. The perfectionist in me wants a good, clean A. None of this mathematical symbol behind it business. (Unless it's A+, then I let it slide). But writing this paper was an intense process, and I'm pretty proud of what I've accomplished; I'd never done anything of that magnitude before. 

Next up: mom's coming to town and, wait for it... graduation! 

Image taken from poshcravings.com. 

Pet Names: The Adventures of Cupcake and Batman

Couples often have the endearing (or annoying) habit by calling their S.O. by a cutesy name. Sure, honey, baby, and pookie bear work just fine...but I'm more interested in the ones that have a bit of a story behind them. For example. Ones of James' coworkers calls her husband "Sexy Muffin" -- if/when I meet them I'm gonna have to know what that's all about. 

James calls me Cupcake. This all started as an inside joke with a separate group of friends which, being an inside joke, is difficult to explain. Suffice it to say that "awkward muffin" was our catchphrase. Now James, not being in on this joke, but having heard of it, sent me a text one day before we were dating that said, "awkward cupcake." Confused by this, I sent one back. "...are you calling me cupcake?" Turns out no, he wasn't. But he started to, and the name stuck. 

Imagine my delight when I got off a very long flight from Paris back to my hometown to see James waiting at the airport with a sign that read "Cupcake." As I walked toward him, he flipped the sign over. It also said "cupcake," with an arrow pointing down. This arrow was pointing toward...drumroll, please...a Tiffany's box. And inside that box was: 

Yep, my Batman is pretty amazing. I call him Batman because when we first started hanging out (and honestly, to this day) I had the habit of expressing surprise by saying, "Holy (insert something here) Batman!" Like, it's snowing and freezing cold? "Holy cold Batman!" Well, playing off the earlier text-versation in which I thought he was calling me cupcake, he asked if I was calling him Batman. Again, I wasn't, but I decided to start. 

So I'm curious, what are your thoughts on pet names? Cute/annoying? Do you have any? What are some of the craziest ones you've heard? 

Interior Design Inspiration: The MoMA Store

It's hard for me to describe my decorating style.  I like things that are modern, but not sterile. Classic, but home-y. Today, while doing some online window shopping, I stumbled across some stuff at the MoMA store that I just love. 

I absolutely adore this dry-erase wall clock. Not to put anywhere that guests usually are, like the living room -- but to organize my life somewhere like the kitchen or by my desk. I can write down my work schedule, James' work schedule (his changes almost daily), pressing appointments, etc. The only downside is that this beauty is $135. I showed the link to James earlier today, and SURPRISE he said he can make one, apparently for a fraction of the cost. My guy is so handy. His words: "A piece of wood: $4. The paint: $20. Clock parts: $10 - $15. The look on my girlfriend's face: priceless." Cheesy, and adorable. And yes, whiteboard paint, along with chalkboard paint, actually exists. 

Next, there's: 

Magnetic vases. You put little metal plates under your table cloth, and the vases stand up like magic! Well, not quite like magic, but they're pretty neat, no? These are $45 for a set of 5, but I stumbled upon a DIY video. Seems a bit labor-intensive for me, and the materials would cost about $25, so I might shell out the extra dough just for the convenience. Unless, of course, James wants to make these too...haha. Showed these to my friend Holly. She said I'm going to be an "amazing hostess." Is it weird or wrong that I kind of want to be Stepford-ish in that way? Like Bree Hodge?

Finally, theres: 

A chalkboard bud vase! How cute is that? You can draw whatever design you want...write down some reminders (that's becoming sort of a theme with me, isn't it? I do indeed like to write myself some notes. Maybe I should get control of that before I go all Guy Pearce in Memento). To my lament, this one is $75. $75! I am coming up with some DIYs ideas for this though, so I'll keep you posted. Because even I, the queen of spending, cannot justify that. 

I'm curious, how would you describe your interior design taste? 

The End of an Era

Now that finals week is in full swing, the end of my college career is quickly approaching. Two down, two to go, and a thesis presentation (a low-key affair at a Parisian coffee shop...I think that's a pretty decent way to end my undergraduate studies). 

I was on the phone with my father the other day having a pretty confusing conversation. You see, I was under the impression he didn't think grad school was a good idea at the moment, he was floored that I hadn't applied. Turns out he just thought grad school in London was a bad idea. These parents...they'll do anything to get me back Stateside. Including the magical words, "We'll figure out how to finance that." 

Truth be told I was a bit unnerved that my educational career was going to end so abruptly. Time off from school? Where am I? WHO am I? So I've decided to study for and take the GMAT this summer and apply to get my MBA. Probably at Creighton University. It'll be interesting to be back in my hometown for a bit. Whether or not I will survive there after four years in Paris is a completely different story. But here are some things I love about my little hamlet*:

• Growing up in the suburbs allowed me to do a lot of things I would've been unable to in a big city. Sled, play in my yard, get a big dog to play in the yard with me, ride my bike around without fearing for my life, camp in my best friend's backyard...
• I run into someone I know nearly everywhere I go. Good friend or acquaintance, it's always good to catch up. 
• In the same vein, I'm a regular at certain places. My coffee shop, the bar my friends frequent...it's nice to get your drink without even having to order!
• Everyone is so ridiculously nice in the Midwest. This is something I took for granted before moving to Paris. I could purposely bump into someone in Omaha and they would politely say "excuse me..." I wouldn't do this, but uh, you know, it's nice to have the option. 
• My parents live there. So does one of my sisters and my lovely niece. Family is good. Well, most of the time, haha. 
• If I drive twenty minutes, I'm at my friend's farm. If I drive twenty minutes in the opposite direction, I'm downtown. Gotta love the variety. 
• Lastly, and a funny one: free refills. More iced tea? Why yes, I'd love some. (Granted, you could get this pretty much anywhere in the States, but I think it counts anyway). 

What are some things that are special about where you grew up? 

*"Hamlet" is a bit misleading. Omaha and surrounding areas are home to over a million people. Still feels like a small town though. And hamlet is just fun to say.

And quickly, on a completely separate note. Joanna over at A Cup of Jo mentioned Love & Victory and they're doing a giveaway! You should comment over there too (comment to win!), but I really hope I win one of these gorgeous custom silhouette necklaces. I'd get one of the aforementioned lovely niece. 

Isabella. Too adorable for words, right? 

It's Gonna be Legen--Wait for it, Dary: Thoughts on "Wingmen"

Men are fascinating. And by "fascinating" I mean, utterly inexplicable and occasionally frustrating. This is especially evident in their "picking up women" practices. I mean, just look at Barney. 

I love you, Neil Patrick Harris.

Barney is, of course, a fictional character on the enormously funny show How I Met Your Mother, played by the talented Neil Patrick Harris. (Sidenote: he also stars in a wildly entertaining internet musical called Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog...YouTube it). On the show, NPH's character often acts as a "wingman" for his friend, Ted.

Now, according to Urban Dictionary, a wingman is the following:

wingman (n.): a guy you bring along with you on singles outing (like to bars) that helps you out with the women

Of course, this can be interpreted in many ways, but generally, I have ascertained that the wingman performs certain duties, including engaging the woman (or women) that his friend is not interested in, in order to give his friend time with the woman that he actually likes. Also, he "talks up his friend," attempting to make him seem more interesting or attractive in the woman's eyes. 

Seems a bit convoluted to me, but okay. However, I was a bit surprised that my boyfriend, James, is going out this weekend to do exactly that for his friend, Hans*. 

The wingman. Kinda looks like NPH, right? Well, he's blonde, anyway.

His mention of this outing spurred what was probably an hour AIM conversation, followed by an even longer video chat. Why does Hans need a wingman? Can't he do this by himself? What exactly does this all entail? Honestly, the whole conversation was a bit more confusing than enlightening, but mainly one question spurred to mind. Do girls really fall for this?  

Also...what does this say about the guy? That he needs strategy and "distractions" and his friend's compliments to talk to a girl? Or he's just "shy"?

Ladies, gents...thoughts on wingmen? 

Good luck this weekend, Hans, and may James be helpful to you.

*Name changed -- Hans is a cool one though, right?