Homecoming, December 5th

As absolutely magical, wonderful, and amazing as world travel is nothing beats returning home after a long trip. My month in Paris with Michael was a truly spectacular adventure filled with insanely delicious food, gorgeous views and sights, way too much shopping, cultural nirvana, supreme happiness, so many pictures, a zillion laughs, and thrilling and romantic memories that will surely last forever. But damn it’s good to be home!

I’m one of those crazy people who get home and stay up late to finish unpacking every single item and I begin the laundry process before I dare go to sleep. I like to settle back in immediately so that when I wake up the following day, I don’t have a big to do list other than minor grocery shopping. For me it’s always a struggle to acclimate to local time but I do my best so that I’m not shot the following evening because of jet lag.

My apartment is situated on the waaay West Side of Manhattan. So far west in fact that the next street over crosses the Hudson River and is actually located in New Jersey. And because there isn’t a lot of commerce here, it’s very residential and pretty quiet. Almost suburban were it not for the blisteringly loud construction next door. (Ugh, don’t get me started. I sure didn’t miss that racket while we were away!) In Paris we got used to the odd international ambulance sounds and the street noises since we were much closer to the ground there than we are in NYC.

Inside my cozy abode, I’ve worked hard to create an oasis far from the hustle and bustle of my eight million neighbors. George Costanza’s Dad Frank might even refer to my apartment as a Serenity Now location. The colors are bright but soft. The fabrics are luxe. The furniture is welcoming. The art is interesting. I just love it here.

You know how in your own house every single thing is exactly where you want it to be? Even your junk drawer is filled to the brim with stuff strategically located so that you can find things easily.

Well my house is set up to meet my specific needs. Like I have scissors in every room one might ever want scissors. I keep an extra hand cream in my nightstand. I have rolls of paper towels under the kitchen sink and a spare pair of reading glasses there too in case I need to eyeball a recipe or tiny cooking instructions on a box. I keep stamps in the kitchen, at my desk and in my bedroom because I tend to write cards in all three locations. This house screams “I’ve had time to think of everything and cater to my own needs.” And that’s just the way I like it.

When traveling, you have to keep your stuff spread out, or literally out if there aren’t enough cabinets or drawers to house your wares. It takes time to settle into a new space and routine. (Although in short order we certainly made Paris feel like home!) In my actual home, I don’t have to think about a thing. I know my oven has a hot spot and I’m comfortable at a chilly 65 degrees in the bedroom. Plus I love my bedding and my towels are super plush. The water pressure in my shower is the best I’ve ever had anywhere. There are phone chargers galore already plugged in and good snacks are stacked up in the cupboards no matter the season.

You’re not going to believe this but I’m only home for a few days and then back out on the road for a work trip. I’m super excited though because it’s to California and the weather forecast is sunny and mild (France was cloudy and cool) and the attendee list is filled with people I know and like! So the homecoming is more like a small layover during which I have urgent beauty maintenance to cram in, unpacking, repacking, and laundry to do, and I’m dying to see my son! But I’ll be back in a few days. And I’ll be just as excited to cross the threshold of my front door when I return.

Home is where the heart is… and my shoe collection, full size toothpaste tubes, denim jacket variations, and photographs of my loved ones. Yes, I’m still excited for the next location… but I do cherish the days in between trips when I’m home sweet home. But take note: I’m already dreaming, planning, plotting and scheming our Parisian adventure for 2023. Ah, Paris! I can hardly wait!