Arriving early morning on Monday, I breeze through customs and scoop up my one suitcase. Either I’m incredible used to the whole customs process or it really is getting easier. Another hour and a half later and my Paris Shuttle driver deposits me at Fabrice’s apartment in the 16th arrondissement. After unpacking and reading a few emails, I drop into bed.

Many hours later, I awake to the fragrant scent of roses under my nose. I open my eyes to a huge bouquet of yellow, orange and purple flowers from my sweet fiancé who had just returned from his job at les éditeurs. He has been rapidly promoted to chef de partie since his arrival just one short month ago. What a lovely way to wake up.

After our initial hellos and “I’ve missed yous,” Fabrice prepares a meal of epic proportions. We begin with little nibbles like red pepper confit on tiny blinis, cucumbers marinated in cream and herbs, Greek-style mushrooms, and marinated vegetables. We just barely manage to save room for the main course – duck confit with peaches, mashed potatoes, and an incredible red wine sauce. Dinner is followed by generous slices of raspberry and pistachio cake. This alone is reason enough to marry him!

The next morning I send a bleary-eyed Fabrice off at 6:15 AM. I snuggle back under the covers, still warm from his sleeping body. Finally I arise and pull on some clothes. I immediately head for a bridge overlooking the Seine and a fabulous view of La Tour Eiffel. The crisp autumn air makes my senses come alive, and I breath in everything that is Paris.

An hour later, I’m leisurely browsing the aisles of the local Monoprix (grocery store), marveling at all the cheese, fresh fish, prepared food items, fruit, and vegetables. It’s a feast for the eyes and my stomach soon grumbles. I purchase some Camembert, a few slices of ham, and an apple. On my way home, I pass a bakery. For a measly one Euro, I purchase a baguette fresh from the oven. The crust crackles lightly under my fingertips making my mouth water.

Fabrice arrives home just before 5:00 PM, and we set out for the Monoprix again. On our way, we stop by a jewelry store and purchase a simple gold and silver band for him. Ever since we proposed, he’s wanted a ring too. And why not? If I get to wear one, why shouldn’t he? At home he slips the ring on his finger, and we look at our hands together. If someone had told me when I met him that nine months later we’d be sharing a moment like this, I would have laughed until I cried. Never would I have guessed that this experience would be happening with him. He is everything I have ever wanted, and he tells me the same.

Tomorrow I’m off to accomplish various errands around town. The transportation workers are planning a three to five day strike that will severely cripple the city. The workers are not happy about newly elected President Nicolas Sarkozy’s retirement reform. He was voted into office to bring France into the global market, and stands firm to his campaign promises. But those who elected him must endure the consequences of becoming a global competitor. Instead of supporting the reform, they do the next logical thing in France – strike. If the transpiration workers suffer, so shall we. But it’s France and that’s just what people do.

Thank goodness I brought good walking shoes!

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