GISBE Package Arrived!

Saturday I was sitting on the bed feeling pretty crummy and having a total pity party when Dave came in with the mail, "I think there's something here to make you happy...". It was a box from France. A Champagne box from France. That's so French! And oh, my GOD--the treats inside. I'm wallowing in Frenchie goodness!

Check it out: Moutarde aux Herbes de Provence (we love mustard in this house!), Bonne Maman Strawberry Preserves, Pâté de Campagne, a Vinaigrette mix, a chocolate bar called M-joy, Eric Bur Cristaux de Sucre Candi, an Eiffel Tower key chain, a recipe book "tartes tatin" that I am dying to delve into, a lovely glossy magazine, "le nouvel Observateur"--a guide to all the trendy spots in Paris (Dave, where's my plane ticket!!!!), and a postcard of the Metro/RER system map. The note on the back of the postcard gives me absolutely NO CLUE as to who sent this box! From the 16eme arrondisment...Someone in the 16th has spoiled me rotten! Who the heck is it?

I spent Sunday evening going through all the blogs on the GISBE list, narrowed it down to Paris blogs and then tried to find neighborhood clues...When I found L'Oiseau's post of March 17th I knew the mystery was solved. And I quote, "The good thing is that I don't think she's Jewish (well her husband likes ham according to one post) as I was freaking that one of the products I have gifted is rather pork based."! The Christmas ham! Fear not Oiseau, we are not Jewish and will totally eat the Porc Pâté! We're having friends over for dinner this weekend--I think I know what's for the appetizer! Could I use anymore exclamation points! It's so freakin' cool!

I don't know if you could have picked things more perfect for me even if you had read this blog, Oiseau. I love to cook, and eat and read. Perfection! This exchange has been so much fun. Thank you, Tracey and Vivi, for organizing it and thank you, Oiseau, for sending me such a great package!

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Spamalot!

Do you have your tickets for Spamalot yet? If not, get them now. That's an order. Dave and I had been meaning to get tickets for months when we finally ordered them in February--we got lucky and found two tickets for the front row of the balcony. Which, take my word for it, is a great place to see the show from--I sat there opening night! Thank you Dave and Janis!!!!

I felt a wee bit bad about seeing it before Dave and I were meant to go together, but hey, what's a girl to do? Opening night and party--that's better than all the antidepressents in the entire world. Thank you Dave and Janis!

I'm having such a hard time keeping my mouth shut though! I want to tell people, "Wait 'till you hear the *** song", "You're going to love the bit with the..." and "OH MY GOD THE _____!". But I don't want to ruin it. Because as Eric Idle said to me (TO ME!)--it's bad enough the reviews ruin (almost) all the jokes. I will bite my tongue and wait for you to see it on your own. You're going to love it.

Look how cute Dave and Janis are!

We met Eric Idle! (Is it possible to look any dorkier than I do in this photo?)

And Carol Cleveland (who is just the nicest person)!

And look, Yahoo! was there too...

The knight? He's in my living room. Haven't decided what to name him yet--any thoughts?

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Happiness? Are you kidding me?

Yes, I've gone to the doctor, Mom. We're working on this. I'm really glad I decided to blog about it too. I needed to tell a lot of people and just didn't know how. I also got to talk to a lot of people who struggle with the same problem. The emails and the phone calls...I love my friends.

On to some blog business: I'm participating in The Great International Secret Blog Exchange. I had bought the main item for my box several weeks ago and then, well, did you read the last post? I haven't been functioning too well. Reading everyone else's post about sending and receiving got me off my ass to put it in the mail. On Tuesday I set myself the task of picking up the last items and getting that box on its way to Europe. On Tuesday Mother Nature decided to send us some sort of freak snowstorm. I made it to the store and then trudged on to the post office. I had to dry off almost everything as I was packing the box. My god, I have this insane fear that my recipient will receive a box full of mold because I didn't dry them off enough! Congratulations! You've got a box of NYC mold! Oh crap.

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How to Go Crazy--Jenny Style

Monday we leave for work and Dave makes some harmless comment and I flip out and storm off for work alone. I cry on the subway. I get to work and head straight to my boss. I need some time off and maybe somewhere inside, I knew she could help. I start tearing up and she whisks me into an empty conference room where I fall apart. I don't even remember what I said. I just remember seeing the puddles of tears on the table. She went to go get Dave and I finally look him in the eye and say, "Please help me." Thus begins our hour and a half odyssey to find help. Avoid EAP is the advice given to us. We go to the regular insurance website and get the insurance people on the phone and we try to find help. Back and forth and back and forth...MY GOD. It's easy enough to make an appointment with someone, but just try to see someone this week. Next week? Oh hell no, they want me to wait for THREE WEEKS. I can't handle it and tell Dave I just have to leave. He agrees that he will figure this out and find me help. Bless him.

Now this is where my breakdown gets high class. A month earlier I had signed up to be a hair model at Bumble and bumble and there was no way I was going to miss that. Please, new hair was about the only thing I was looking forward to. So I head over to the Meatpacking District. I need to kill time so I wander into florent for breakfast. French roast coffee and a croisant. I'm still kind of sniffly, but I am recognizing the need to pull myself together--I'M SCARING PEOPLE. Off for the hair chop. I get in the chair and tell the woman to just do whatever she wants. Just chop it off if you want--I really don't care. So chop she did. I don't think my hair has been this short since...well, I might have been two.

I think I like it, but this photo kind of frightens me because I can really tell that I've lost weight. People have asked, but I really did not think it was that obvious. Oh my god.

After the hair chop I was hungry and oh my, Pastis is right around the corner. Why the fuck not? Cute waitor comps me champagne--he says he does it for all the single ladies. Now is this restaurant-wide policy or did I just get the playboy waitor? Because it totally worked--I am SO going to eat there again by myself. I had salmon and champagne and the snivels. The boisterous table next to me noticed and tried to talk me into a good mood. I think I ruined their day--oops. But really, it was a lovely meal and the free champagne thing? Like Kate said later, sometimes the universe gives you a gift.

I had arranged to meet a friend at our favorite bar later, but I still had about an hour to kill so I sat in a park and called a friend and cried some more. Oh how I cried. I cried in front of AN ENTIRE BUSLOAD OF TOURISTS. How awesome is that? Their tour of the West Village included crazy actress sobbing in the park. At least no one took photos--I think. I did meet my friend at the bar where I cried some more, ran into another friend who I think I was rude to, but can't remember, and then Dave came to collect me around 6:30.

I had managed to fill the whole day. I had been too afraid to go home and be alone so I didn't. I made it. Dave found me a psychiatrist who can see me on Friday. I can make it to Friday. I will be okay. Because you see, Monday should have been awesome. The sun was shining--it was warm enough to not wear gloves. I got an amazing haircut. I had free champagne with lunch. I met friends and had a drink. But it wasn't awesome--it was pure hell to get through. I miss being happy. I miss enjoying days like Monday when the universe gives you a gift.

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