it is unbelievable how enough you are

If the popularity of pas mal is any indication, the French are pretty tough critics. Though the phrase may literally translate to "not bad", it's often used to replace an American very good, nice job, or way to go! We tend to be exceptionally more encouraging. So, when a Frenchman told my friend and I he was impressed with us, it meant a lot; granted we were only strategically guessing which secret wine we were tasting from the Compagnie des Vins Surnaturales' extensive wine list... but still. I have Paris, France to thank.

I don't even mean that in a I've-drank-so-much-French-wine-having-lived-in-Paris-for-nearly-two-years sense, though that's probably true. I mean to say that this grad-school-abroad thing has helped me grow into myself in pretty impressive ways. Experiences bring confirmation of the great reach of our capabilities as well as of our limits. They informs us how fragile we are while simultaneously reminding us of our triumphant resilience. Many of my own have just happened to take place in a foreign country. And although I won't reduce the influence of such a significant detail, I also refuse to believe it's a prerequisite for certainty in one's self-assured adequacy. The trick, I think, is to never stop taking chances. Eat, pray, love happens on the inside. As a wise woman once shared: "You are enough. You are so enough; it is unbelievable how enough you are." It's hardly just wine knowledge to be proud of.

la mer et la femme

One of the many challenging things about studying a Romance language as a native English speaker is learning (and rationalizing) which nouns are female and which are male. Though the United States has a lot of work to do when it comes to gender equality, most places and things are expressed as gender neutral (German, anyone?); except for Mother Nature, and 99.9% of all ships/boats.

Leslie and I arrived to a windy and wet Biarritz last week. The ocean was incredible from a distance. We watched in amazement as it violently thrashed about, and we weren't the only ones. Residents gathered, too. The scene reminded of my least favorite descriptor of women: crazy. We appropriate "crazy" when describing disagreeable, emotional, and otherwise 'unstable' ladies far too often. It's neither nice nor accurate. With all the word's negative connotations, it's also unnecessarily offensive. I wish that'd just wash away.

La mer was crazy though. And Leslie and I temporarily ducked into un café to wait out the rain in the luxurious seaside town. We also took refuge in a spectacular resto of basque moderne cuisine before visiting other Pays Basque destinations in better weather.

I look forward to re-living that meal super soon! Until then, some further reading inspired by International Women's Day...

• On International Women's Day: Working to make it right.
• For those who think I rant about the patriarchy and misogyny too much.
• International Women's Day: In defence of feminist dissent.
• It’s Woman’s Day In Ukraine. Here’s What That Means For The Mothers And Daughters Living With Revolution.
• Sheryl Sandberg and Anna Maria Chávez on 'Bossy,' the Other B-word.

retrouvailles

Inspired by Valentine's Day (and each other), most, if not all of my online haunts are publishing articles on love and marriage. I've become very well-versed in related findings and opinions as a result. Just yesterday, I tweeted a quote from a lesser controversial piece by Alex Brueckner: "the feeling of overwhelming relief and joy that accompanies seeing someone after a long separation." Beautiful explanation of the French sentiment, retrouvailles, isn't it? I, too, am fascinated by these words that cannot be translated.

I've felt many of them as well, in the romantic sense and not. Spending so much time at home, for instance, reminded me of all the reasons why I miss my family and New York-based friends. It was a refreshing comfort to be in their company for such a long time.

Perhaps more so than any previous visit, I was really upset to say goodbye. And yet... Paris has re-embraced me with such affection. This week and the past weekend booked up with little effort. My sweet friends and I were able to pick up right where we left off.

Sunday afternoon, I met Rachael and Lorelei at Artisan for a leisurely brunch. 'Twas the first time this favorite place of mine was serving it. Unsurprisingly, our mezcal Bloody Marys, croque monsieurs, and crêpes were amazing. My favorite part though, besides the food and drink and even conversation, was the affirmation of "I missed you"s. It always is the people that make a place special. Yes, I'm happy to be reunited with those that make Paris for me. I'll return to the US (for my best friend's wedding!) soon enough.

c'est normal

This time next week, I'll waking up in Paris. I can hardly believe it. These past two months have both dragged on and flown by. I've gotten used to "American" things that had startled me at first--the noise level, breadth of options, friendly customer service, and all-around enthusiasm. So soon I'm meant to settle back into my Franglish life while working on my nouvelle Americain thesis.

When we speak about culture, we usually refer to it as if it is inherent to both a people and a place. It's not. To put it simply: the cultures we know today have been created (imagined even) by repeated habits sprung from circumstances and resources; they've influenced norms we accept as Truth. Throughout my studies, while adapting to more than one set, I've questioned them as well.

I'm excited to critically dissect American identity from abroad. It might even be the most efficient way to do so--from the outside looking in, with an otherwise innate understanding. I hope to uncover something of value that lends itself to the complexities of how we define ourselves in a swiftly globalizing world. (Such a nerd). Only then will I graduate, move, and settle into stability.

Sometime this year, life will become significantly more normal. And yet, I know the very concept of "normality" is manufactured, too. My least favorite French phrase is: c'est normal. I've heard it said sarcastically, thereby eliciting a condescending judgement. But normal as defined by Ellen Goodman, for instance: "getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it," isn't all that appealing. So I'll create my normal; one of adventure, comfort, frugality, and satisfaction. For the first time in a long time, whether by naivety or maturity, I believe it's not only possible, but necessary.

racines

It's been... being home these past two weeks. I feel like a familiar stranger. Whereas I've accumulated stories, they've acquired more furniture, higher paychecks, exciting engagements. And as much as I'm genuinely happy to revel in it with them, I can't shake my unsettling worry. Because I want all of that, too. Mundane may not appeal, but, my gosh, how I crave a little comforting stability...

Thankfully, I usually catch myself before getting too carried away with that thought. I have so freaking much to appreciate now.

As we prepare to celebrate Christmas Eve and Day, I'm thinking about how silly it is that I have presents to look forward to as well. There are so few things I need. And what I seem to want--the eventual home, career, beloved--cannot be wrapped up with a bow.

In Portugal, Lara, Lorelei, and I had a conversation about manifestations, or rather, French words we can't ever remember the English equivalents to. In this case, I blame our lapses in memory on the fact that strikes don't take place in the U.S. as often as they do in France. Plus, "manifestation" is already a word in English. "An event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something, especially a theory or an abstract idea." Why not make this coming year the one that I allow these racines to take root?

I think it needs to begin with faith. I've gotten really good at wholeheartedly believing the best of other people, but I struggle with having genuine faith in my own choices, abilities, and limitations; not to mention the truth a sweet, wise friend once told me: "You are in the process of building a life with an amazing career, a good marriage, a beautiful family, and wonderful warm relationships all around. Consider those yours already." I have to trust, too, that God/the Universe is on my side. Recently, and more than once, Conan O'Brien's, "If you work really hard, and you're kind, amazing things will happen," adage has proven to be incredibly true.

So, there you have it: my excuse for the radio silence as of late. I've also had my fair share of my family and friend time. Wishing you and your loved ones the happiest and healthiest holiday! I'll check in before the New Year. This should entertain until then :).

“If you let your mind talk you out of things that aren’t logical, you’re going to have a very boring life. Because grace isn’t logical. Love isn’t logical. Miracles aren’t logical.” -Barbra DeAngelis

obrigado

They say your twenties are for being selfish. They fail to mention, however, how much living abroad amplifies the tendency. As much as it embarrasses me to admit, I'm not entirely looking forward to going home. I'm afraid to face the imperfections of the rest of my reality with the research timer on my master's thesis set and my Parisian life on pause. But, on particular days like this one, I'm especially reminded to appreciate these self-centered concerns. Because, really... how blessed can someone be to have loved ones unconditionally support her ambitions, to enjoy time and space to study her passions, to belong to more than one place? And, to celebrate her favoritest holiday multiple times before reuniting with family for the next two in New York. I'm thinking, very.

I met Phil and Tiphaine once, at the Kinfolk gathering; and for some reason they were kind enough to invite me to join in their Thanksgivukkah! Last Saturday, Sandra and I adventured south of Paris for a most unforgettable Franco-American feast:

Upon arrival, they served home-barrel-aged cocktails: a warm autumn punch made with bourbon and cider (my pick), and a seasonally spiced Negroni. Guests trickled in from near and far as the buffet table crowded with their generous contributions. To nibble during meets and greets, we helped ourselves to endive with blue cheese and local walnuts and wild rabbit rillette on toast.

Eventually, the Thanksgiving-Hannukah meal was served: green salads, latkes with apple sauce, deep fried/smoked turkey, stuffing (southernly referred to as "dressing" because it was prepared outside the bird), green bean casserole, lobster macaroni and cheese.

We digested with re-pours of wine until we were ready for dessert. My Belgian chocolate was nothing compared to the homemade pecan pie, chou au chantilly et potiron (pumpkin cream puffs), and an unexpected berry cake. Coffee, champagne, and a local porter aged on Fernet Branca barrel chips were served alongside. Phil and Tiphaine are obviously the best hosts in the whole wide world.

Eight hours later, I headed back to Paris with plenty of gratitude and leftovers. And I'm already excited for tomorrow's "Anksgeeving" dinner with grad school friends. Although I'm most definitely sad to miss my family's annual fête, I'm thankful for this new tradition, too. Oh! By the way, obrigado is Portuguese for "thank you." I'm especially fond of it because it's so similar to the Spanish abrigo (coat) and abrazo (hug). Happy Thanksgiving, friends! Let's embrace all that significance and share our gratitude generously:

• Donate to disaster relief in the Phillipines.
• Create a care package for a local homeless shelter.
• Send season's greetings to a military veteran, service member, or family.
• Recycle an old cell phone for global health.
• Make Thanksgiving possible for those less fortunate.
• Knit a scarf for a college student in need.
• Smile at a stranger; hug your parents; call an old friend; compliment a loved one; say merci, and really, truly mean it.

les entrepreneurs

Last year, Forbes clarified one very important definition: "Entrepreneurs, in the purest sense, are those who identify a need—any need—and fill it. It’s a primordial urge, independent of product, service, industry or market." It's that risk and irreplaceable satisfaction that has attracted me to start-ups, time and time again. Yet, despite the French origins of the word (and the fact that I'm currently basking in entrepreneurial spirit at a Parisian start-up), entrepreneurship is hardly as prevelant here as it is in the U.S. Of course, that claim entirely depends on your social circles... and I've spent most of this week in the company of expat bloggers.

Monday night: the Words & Wine event. I arrived to a modern Parisian literary salon (Sylvia's apartment) complete with friendly faces, many bottles of wine, and sweet and savory bites. An hour or so later, Juliette read us an excerpt from "Dancing with Paris" and opened up a candid discussion on her writing process and career. Casual, inspiring conversation flowed freely after.

Wednesday night: the first National Kale Day international event. Kristen of The Kale Project joined forces with Laura and Braden of Verjus for an evening of wine and kale dishes. Lorelei met me there and we caught up over sublime glasses of chablis and pinot noir, in addition to fabulous spiced kale chips. I was thrilled to also chat with Lauren, Melanie, Anna, and Lisa, among others.

I can only speak from my American upbringing, but it makes sense to me that all these talented ladies are pursuing independent ventures abroad. I too was brought up with the encouragement to dream big and think outside the box. I was told it's okay to fail, as long as you take the lesson learned and do better next time. I'm aware that limited American regulations stimulate business (hello, neoliberalism), just as our weak welfare system drives efforts to reject the status quo--though I can't say I entirely agree with either.

Here, on the other hand, "just 15% of French respondents to a recent EU survey on attitudes toward entrepreneurship said they had started or taken over a business, or were planning to do so,"(qz) the lowest among the 27 European countries polled. Nonetheless, I'm not arguing that the French don't take creative chances. Mine are the opinions and observations of a non-expert of economics and culture. Not to mention that, "there is a stark difference between 'there are not enough prominent startups' and 'I do not know the startups,'" as Liam Boogar protested. All I'm saying is: it's pretty cool to live in a city where new ventures have yet to become blasé, and it's even more so to be fostering relationships with the amazing people behind them. Way to go, Paris.

power, disruption, and lies

It's been nearly two weeks since I was in Malmö, Sweden for the Media Evolution conference... and I'm still on a high. I can't even help it. I put so much pressure on the serendipitous opportunity--half of me expecting (the other wishing) it to ease my doubt and provide answers as I tackle my French internship, hone in on my thesis for the spring, better articulate what it is I want to do afterwards. And you know what? It delivered, in every which way and then some. I still don't understand how that's possible.

Then again, I do. The conference kicked off with an opening keynote by Dr. Suzannah Lipscom, a historian, who said things like "it's the power to do good, the dance of the production of change, of the unpredictability of the future which makes us all liars" when taking apart the theme of this year's conference and then left us with historical examples of how, "we can use informal power to change behavior." My nerdy aspirations ran wild as experience paired inspiring presentation with insightful yet informal chats on innovation in contemporary media with a British feminist, American researcher, Dutch web programmer, Swedish artist, etc.

Before lunch on that Thursday, I listened to practical advice from Matthew and Fabian such as, "hypothesize your acquistion channel - where do they 'hang out' online?" I've already integrated this tip and many more regarding "lean marketing" into my work at PageYourself. " I also received some clarification into how I'd like to contribute to Change Making after hearing Lina and Marcin talk. I was especially blown away by Lina's Equalists Project, a campaign for equal representation for women and other minority groups across industries that has been built almost entirely on humble Facebook pages. It's rapidly expanding and I'm eager to get involved.

Afterwards, on the menu for our mid-day meal: lemon-baked turkey breast marinated with capers and parsley alongside a wheatberry salad with roasted paprika vinaigrette. I enjoyed a sparkling water and plenty of great conversation as well.

Then we jumped right back into creative and critical thinking with Cindy Gallop. I cannot even express to you how incredibly provocative her keynote was. Please just watch it. Originally a global advertising consultant, she is now focusing on a project to tap into, "the single most untapped pool of resource: personal good intentions," and another to disrupt the porn business. Yes, really. She's doing so in the most amazing way, proving that we can, "integrate social responsibility into the way we do business."

I went on to contemplate online harassment as I heard the heartbreaking personal accounts of Laurie and Anita with Kate's academic insight. Though emotional, I felt hopeful in the presence of their grace and bravery. And later, as Ruth presented Un-Convention and Foro Di Eixo, I realized how effective passion can be in mobilizing individuals into forces of collective good. Ariel, a designer turned space enthusiast, reaffirmed the fact as she shared the story of her movement for citizen space exploration.

With all potential floating in my head, I took advantage of the free glass of happy hour wine, mingled a bit, and then retreated to the Doc Lounge for The Yes Men screening. Little did I know I'd actually have the chance to ask Mike Bonanno a question I'd been wondering since my Global Advocacy class. His answer to how they measure their success: "our mission is not for The Yes Men to be better liked, but for the issue to get as much attention as possible. The point is to give voice to activists and victims." I was almost too satisfied with his response to recall the director of Searching for Sugar Man's keynote. A good night's sleep was so necessary.

Thankfully, I got one. So much so, that I had to rush out of Liselott's apartment, through Malmö, and to the contemporary Slaghuset Thursday morn. I made it to James' keynote just on time. As a seasoned critic of technological dependence, I was struck by his declaration that "technology is not a mutual good, it's a tool." It is up to us. My awe was followed by this thought: gosh, I wish I had a robotic clone to annotate Emily's beyond crowd-funding anecdotes while I learned how visual media affects culture and identity...

Alas, I did not, so I just soaked up the research inspiration as An proved how, "remix culture is a way to take control of the narrative," Tricia advocated for trust as we "preserve spaces for informal modes of interaction," that allow our elastic selves to flourish, and Kenyatta told the timeless (albeit with his comedic edge) story of the .gif. I'll admit I followed the other presentations with #theconf.

For some larger picture perspective, I went to the presentation on thinking about Now in the Past. It was wonderful to hear from Matt, someone who has clearly found his professional calling in his belief that, "the history of the future is borne of optimism." The concept aligned closer with Åsa's approach to urban planning than expected. "What defines cities is the people who live in that city." With all those ideas, I pondered my master's thesis as I ate lunch that day: salmon with sour cream and roasted dill-potatoes.

Before I knew it, the conference part of The Conference was over. (There were a few more presentations but I was too overstimulated for them to have had an impact). I cannot imagine anyone but Alexis, co-founder of Reddit, giving the closing keynote on "the importance of giving a damn about the people who are about to use and consume what you create." He's right. Lagom, a Swedish word roughly translating to a Goldilocks-esque "just enough", isn't acceptable when it comes to tackling the challenges facing society and media. I ended the night at the Malmö Festival, spent most of Friday on that Sustainable Tourism excursion, ate a Saturday lunch in Copenhagen, and walked away with the what and where of my eventual master's thesis.

P.S. For tips on how to make the most of the next conference you attend, check out this best practice I wrote for PageYourself.