Category Archives: domestic bliss

Les cloches de wedding sont ringing!

So, the word on the street is that Sarko is marrying his sweet cannoli on Thursday.

Wow, that Sarko is a doer!



The pomme de mon eye

Here’s some pictures from my visit last week to the home of Beeplet (also known as Lucy), BEPA’s daughter. Have I mentioned that this is the cutest baby on the entire planet (and the smartest, most charismatic, most user-friendly, sweetest…)?

Clearly she takes after her parents, who are two of the loveliest people I know.

I’m so smitten!



Sarko engaged?!

Woooooooah! Hold yer horses! I haven’t even finished mourning the end of Cecilia yet!

There’s real speculation that Sarko proposed to Italian-born model Carla Bruni on Christmas day during their vacation in Egypt, when she was photographed wearing a gigantic, pink diamond on her wedding-ring finger.


I can’t believe this. Like one month of dating and they’re getting married? Do you know what news like this does for my self-esteem?!

Only kidding.

Sort of.

It’s not bad enough that Carla Bruni is a supermodel. A rich supermodel. Then on top of that she gets a big giant rock after dating the president de la République for a month?

This is retarded. I can’t even believe I’m reporting on this. I should see what my cat is up to and report on that instead.


Oh, he’s passed out next to the Christmas tree.

Anyway, here is a link to the article in Le Parisien, featuring commentary from Bruni’s mother about their relationship. Wouldn’t you just be SO pissed at your mom if she did that to you?

You can also read the watered-down American translation in People [CARLA BRUNI: FRANCE’S NEXT FIRST LADY?….gag, (gag is mine)] by clicking here.

Excuse me, but I need to go cry now.

The French Fried American almost passes out

Friday night Fifi and I had a rockstar Christmas celebration. First we went to Cercle Bleu in TriBeCa and stuffed ourselves with champagne, foie gras and fromage exotique.  So yummy!

When we got home, Fifi presented me with this:


A box.

From my favorite jewelry store.

Could it mean?

I started hyperventilating in my mind.

Could the impossible be coming true?

Was Fifi handing in his bachelor card?

Was hell freezing over?

Okay, let’s get real.


But he gave me beautiful earrings. That Fifi’s got good taste.

Yes, friends, I remain a concubine this holiday season. And a classy concubine at that.

I look so money in these things.

Season’s Greetings from Ratville…or is it Mouseville?

Fifi has gone off to France and I am here in Ratville. Life is not fair. But the ambiance in our apartment is pretty sweet. Sort of.


This holiday season we’ve been visited by the Souris de Noel, or the Christmas mice. I got chocolates and a toothbrush (in that order) and Fifi got some chapstick and a travel-size garden gnome.

Unfortunately, Pablo has been catching the Christmas mice and then batting them around in the wee hours as they die slow and tortured deaths. Also, one died in the wall and the smell of death is emanating from the wall socket.

As an aside, I worry that now that I’ve been making a concerted effort to write less about Sarko, I’m now writing too much about my cat. And that’s probably way lamer.

The French Fried American shocks even herself sometimes

I made kumquat jam.  Isn’t that adorable?


A member of the citrus family, kumquats appear in our stores in early winter and are known for having sweet skin but sour fruit.  And lots of seeds.  It took me over an hour to cut them, and I think it will last for one breakfast, maybe too.  But the apartment smells really good.

Pablo starts his own fan club


You are sleepy, beautiful and nice.

You look like a hairy cow

but you are my friend. You are

fun and you are cool. Did you

take gymnastics class?

You are so stretchable!

By Theo, age 9 (who, with his family, cat-sat for me last week while Fifi and I were visiting my family for Thanksgiving)