Dear David Lebovitz,

Consider our relationship strained.

I have been tweeting at you for months.

Telling you really cool super awesome things and what happened?

Nothing. Silence. 

I feel rejected, David. 

Sincerely,

Can I get a re-tweeeeet?!

Phew, glad that is off my chest! Now I can tell you that I actually do like Mr. Lebovitz despite our rocky twitter relationship.

I like him enough that I brought his book "The Sweet Life in Paris" all the way to Paris from California just so I could get it signed by its author.

Lets backtrack here...

"The Sweet Life in Paris"
That sounds like the most lovely, idealistic, happy and encouraging book ever written, right?

Heck NO. This book scared the living daylights out of me! Making me think that Parisians don't drink water (ever) so that they never have to pee because there are no toilets in Paris. Saying that when you get in line to pay for something you better be prepared for a wrestling match so you can body slam the woman who is trying to cut you in line. You may or may not be slaughtered if you cut a wedge of cheese in the wrong way or order. Oh, and if you dare to touch something in a store then you best be buying it.

I was terrified.

I don't know who this man hangs out with around here but I have not experienced these things (phew!). There were a couple truths in there though. They love to go on strike in this city and there is dog poop e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.

A few weeks ago a group of students from my class went to David's book signing. He is pretty much exactly what I thought he would be. Polite but awkward and not overly friendly (the Parisian way). He was nice enough to let me snap a photo but I was shoveled away before I could give him a piece of my mind about his lack of re-tweets...he got lucky this time.

But he has some great recipes in the book and if you like super dry humor...go buy it! :)

Afterwards we stopped in this cute little cafe for some hot chocolate. I can't get enough of this stuff. This place lets you handle your own. Start with a bowl of melted chocolate and add as much hot steamed milk as you wish....ahhh heaven.

When I get back to the states hot chocolate will never be the same. Luckily, I don't have to worry about that yet. :)

the saddest part....its all gone!