I am a Francophile. An expat. A dreamer. A traveler. A seeker of that and those which inspire me. Above all else, I am grateful. In just under two years I have not simply found, but created a life in Paris. Not a city that easily embraces outsiders. And so us outsiders found a way in. By sharing our stories and thoughts via the world of blogging. A passion for some, therapeutic for others. I am equally excited to share stories that inspire me via my own blog, as in The Dream Life series, as well as to share my life via others.
Today I am honored to be featured on fellow Francophile and friend Lindsey’s fabulous Paris blog, Lost in Cheeseland. A series very aptly titled Franco File Friday. This gal never ceases to amaze. (Fellow Frenchies, have you tried her cookies yet?)
Other recent and honorary features include design savvy Anne from Prêt à Voyager. She shared my travels on her ingenius Boarding Pass series and my neighborhood of the Marais in her Tour de France. Doubly honored! I’ve also appeared on the lovely (and romantic might I add) Susan’s blog Fleurishing, in her Proust Q&A series.
I cannot neglect to mention my HiP Paris dining adventures as of late, with fellow Paris bloggers at the haute Petrelle. Many more foodie explorations to come!
As I have done in the past and will continue to do, I share the love as year two approaches, life in Paris evolves, I feel even more gratitude, and the language of blogging continues to unite.
When I first met Chloe Lodge, I sensed a curiosity in her gaze, and a warmth in her demeanor. When I found out she was studying to become a photographer, my interest grew. (Having worked as a Print Producer in the advertising world for over a decade, I grew to know and admire many visual thinkers, and have developed a love for photography.) With undeniable fervor, Chloe told me about the Masters Programme she was completing in Paris, and her final project, documenting ‘Expat Women in a Foreign Land’: Paris. (And would I want to participate? Bien Sur!) So, how did Chloe arrive to pursue her dreams, in Paris? Her path is a unique and well-traveled one.
It still surprises me, how quickly life can change. If a year ago, someone said to me that I would be at the beginning of a new career in photography, having studied in Paris and been exhibited at the Rencontres dʼArles I would never have believed them. I am delighted to say this is exactly what has happened.
Photography has been a passion of mine since I was a little girl. When asked as a child ʻwhat do you want to become?ʼ for me, aged 7, my answer was always ʻI want to be a National Geographic Photographer.ʼ At fifteen I showed my photographs to my art teacher who said ʻthese are nice pictures but they are holiday snaps. To be a photographer you have to make the everyday appear extra-ordinary and more interesting than its perception.ʼ I had little, or no idea what she meant and felt discouraged.
After a brief spell at Art College studying sculpture, I achieved a BA Honours degree in Art History. Not having a clue what to do with a qualification such as this I fell into the city life of London, initially working in Event Management, then momentarily for the big boys at Goldman Sachs on Fleet Street. However, the creative Chloe gasped for breath inside everyday, so when a slightly unusual opportunity presented itself to me, I grabbed it with both hands. Working alongside Bear Grylls was a fascinating and all-encompassing job. Regardless, my role was one I could tweak and mould how I wanted. It was about organisation, PR, event management and with a little design thrown in. During a particularly intense period manning the 24-hour UK base of Bearʼs 2003 Trans-Atlantic Arctic Expedition I realised that it was about time I stopped sitting behind a desk organising adventures for others and see the world for myself.
My London flat went on the market, and I booked myself a round-the-world ticket. I planned on three months away but ended up being away almost three years. In that time I travelled across Russia, Mongolia and China on the Trans-Siberian, I spent four months backpacking in South-East Asia and finally ʻsettledʼ in New Zealand for almost two and a half years.
The back streets of Valletta, Malta. May 2011
The age of digital photography was upon us and, small compact in hand, I rediscovered my love of photography – capturing the beauty in the everyday. The landscape, culture and texture of life in the ʻLand of the Long White Cloudʼ awoke the softly doozing hunger for the photographic image from inside me. Whilst down-under, I not only fell in love with my photography again, I fell in love with the very wonderful James.
This was almost five years ago, and for reasons unknown to us, we then ended up in England. The dream of any little girl came true and James proposed. It was a double whammy because he also agreed to my fantasy of a small, intimate wedding on an Italian hillside, then the intense organisation began. It was all going to plan, until devastation hit. It was a Saturday afternoon, exactly three months to the day before our wedding, that I received the phone call. My dear and much-loved Mum, had died overnight in her sleep. Aged just 58, it was sudden, unexpected and shattered my world from the core.
Unwillingly but essentially I had to shift the wedding plans to funeral plans, desperately trying to ingest the utter shock of what had happened. We had to decide quickly whether to go ahead with our Italian wedding plans, or not. We decided whenever we were to get married after that she wouldnʼt physically be there: getting ready on the day, smiling at me with pride as I said my vows, laughing with me every step of the way. But she had been part of the planning THIS day, so we had to move forward.
Springtime in Paris, the Eiffel Tower. March 2011
Is it possible for light come from the darkness of utter tragedy? Sitting in the shade of a palm tree on our honeymoon, a realisation slowly dawned on me that I might now have the opportunity to follow that childhood dream of mine. I could go back to school to study photography. After much research and a swift application, I received a confirmation from a school in Paris to study Professional Photography starting September 2010.
Still fragile and in shock from the previous six months, I wondered if it was the right timing for me. Being in my mid-thirties, it felt like it was ʻnow or neverʼ. I had visited Paris as an art student, spending many happy hours in the Louvre and Musee DʼOrsay, and knew Iʼd always loved it as a city and so, swallowed hard and took the plunge.
As I began my studies I felt that the studio was where I wanted to be, ʻmakingʼ pictures and not ʻtakingʼ them. However, as my first semester journey of personal and creative exploration ventured on I began feeling more and more that the outside world is where I wanted to be. My interest has always been in people, within the context of their lives. Understanding how things change and evolve for them over time. I consider myself a social observer and a story teller, and it’s for this reason documentary and portrait photography is the area in which I love to work. Photography is not purely the creative action of taking a picture, it’s about people and their stories, their lives.
Kasia Dietz, from the portrait series 'Modern Women at Home in a Foreign Land' April, 2011
Ten challenging, soul-searching but fantastic months later, I have achieved a National Diploma with Honours, and finished the Masters Programme. Following our final diploma show in May, two out of 68 students were selected to be part of the 26 year celebration exhibition of our school at the Rencontres dʼArles… and my work was one of them. It was a complete surprise, but a fantastic honour so soon after graduating. The same exhibition will be shown in November, during Paris Photo Month, at the Speos Gallery, Paris. A city at the nucleus of the photography world. It feels like the beginning of something very wonderful… itʼs not the start of a new chapter, itʼs the start of a whole new book. A book I have always dreamt of starting, and now I am.
The Residence of the US Ambassador to France, Paris. April 2011 (selected for Rencontres d'Arles)
Congratulations and best of luck to you Chloe, as your ‘dream life’ of visual story telling continues!
Chloe Lodge Photography, will be exhibited at the Speos Gallery, 75011 Paris from November 8th – December 31st 2011. You can also follow Chloe Lodge on facebook as her life soon takes her from Paris to Asia. (Once the traveler always the traveler!)
ʻModern Women at Home in a Foreign Landʼ captures todayʼs Anglophone women making lives for themselves in a country where the culture, language and tradition is often very different to their own. Each following their own dream, in so many different ways. Her self- published book is available for viewing via Blurb.com
Being well aware of ‘why‘ to blog, here is Andi Fisher’s take on ‘how’to blog. Rarely a day goes by without an interesting and often insightful blog post on Misadventures with Andi. How to remain inspired to write every day? (Or once to twice a week in my case). Other than simply living your life and keeping yourself interested and interesting, it’s a good dose of exercise, discipline, focus…
Blogging with Andi: Part 2: The How
When I met Kasia and several other bloggers in Paris this past October, one common question that everyone asked me was: “How do you write everyday? How do you manage to read so many blogs?”
With the exception of a handful of days over the past few years, Misadventures with Andi has had a post every single day. It’s the whole notion of Blogging with Discipline. This is a concept that I came across in a post in my early blogging days. What it basically comes down to is: I write more good stuff by writing daily than I would by writing less frequently.
One part is exercise.
Many people exercise on a daily basis, they don’t feel as well if they miss a day. Blogging is the same way. I may only write for 30 minutes, but I write everyday. It keeps me loose and keeps the words flowing.
The other part is discipline.
Coming from an internet marketing background, I am quite comfortable with maintaining an editorial calendar. I believe this tool to be essential to mapping and organizing my posts, as well as keeping on task on what I want to accomplish.
Every weekend I plan out my posts for the following week. At times, I plan out further. I currently use Google Calendar which works very well, but I am also considering a new WordPress plug-in that functions in a similar manner.
There is a constant presence of either a spiral notebook or moleskin in my possession and I have about 20-30 drafts of posts in my WordPress panel at any given time. I travel a lot and write notes (either in a notebook or on a laptop) during my trips so that I can just edit and add photos when I return.
I spend about 3-4 hours writing, usually on Sundays covering various topics. I have three weekly recurring posts: (Not quite) Wordless Wednesday; French Friday and Saturday Six. In addition, I have other series that run less frequently: Travel Tip (or Gear) Tuesday; J’adore and Monthly Top Five. The rest of the time I am free to write about whatever travel related content I want.
Which brings to the third and final part of my process: focus.
My blogging pal and guru, Julie Roads of Writing Roads taught me a very key tenet “find your tree.”She wrote about this quite a long time ago. I remember liking the post, but I don’t think I took it all in. Then when Julie and I were speaking on the phone earlier this year, she asked, “what’s your tree?”
The base of your tree is the thing you are most passionate about, it is the topic that all your posts should tie back to. Every post should a be branch that “stems” from the trunk. This will allow you to “root” your blog to a place where people gather and know what to expect when they do.
Since defining my branch [travel] and sticking to it, writing had become even easier for me.
On a final note, content breeds content. On a weekly basis I read about 400 blog posts. The reason is twofold. First, I find great posts that inspire me to write my own posts. Secondly, as a member of the blogging community I am keenly aware of the need to support each other via traffic and comments.
Comments are the currency that makes the blogosphere run and I feel it is important to read and support not only the bloggers that read and support me, but also others who aren’t necessarily part of my own community but who I feel are writing really great content.
That may be more that Kasia was looking for, but I am passionate about sharing and passionate about blogging, so it’s hard to be brief!
Just what I was looking for Andi! I must add that I’m a big fan of Andi’s weekly features, particularly Saturday Six, on which she highlights 6 of 400+ blog posts she reads weekly. I can proudly say my blog has been featured many a time, always an honor!
Fellow bloggers, have you found your tree? Mine too, is travel. And the branches are many.
It’s no secret that I am a big fan and pleased to be called a friend of Andi Fisher, author of Misadventures with Andi. I was thrilled that she agreed to share some of her blogging expertise with me. Valuable insights for anyone in the vast and ever-expanding blogging community.
Blogging with Andi: Part 1: The Why
When I met Kasia in Paris this past October our conversation was too short. But despite the length a connection was made, one that will continue to bind us whether we meet in person again or not. This is one of the many blessings of blogging, an activity that has become an integral part of my life.
Kasia asked me to explain that further. So here we are.
I am an introvert.
But I can fake an extrovert like nobody’s business!
In reality, I think a better way to define myself is as a conflicted introvert. One who has become a virtual extrovert as a result of blogging and social media.
This is something that I have struggled with for years. By pure Myers-Briggs I am an INTJ, but at work I “fake” being an ENTJ because I am also a care-taker, project manager, organizer and that takes some “E”. Yet, outside of work, I rarely socialize, spend a lot time at home reading, writing, watching movies by myself or with my husband. I hate talking on the phone and rarely answer the telephone when it rings. Yet, when I have chosen to be “out” I am 100% committed to the evening, the lunch, the client meeting, the conference.
One of my favorite comments on this topic comes from a bloggger named Daniel Hindin (he doesn’t blog anymore). I have never net, but I have kept his thoughts close to me:
The way I see it is that writing allows an introvert to be a temporary extrovert. As a blogger, Twitterer or Facebooker, I control how, when and what I share. I can get in and out whenever and however I want. I can interact with people and share in their energy while still having no concern about awkward moments or being stuck in a conversation when I’d rather retreat into myself.
After I’m done writing a blog post or have an engaging Twitter conversation, I’m often energized. But after I’m done with a social function, I’m completely drained. The tools of the social web allow an introvert to control how they enter and exit a conversation – or whether they want to take part in the first place. These tools also allow us to take written thoughts that once might have ended up in a private journal and quickly spread them to hundreds if not thousands of people.
I’m still an introvert, and that will never change. But these tools allow writing to pose as conversation. That allows people like me who feel more comfortable with the written word, as opposed to the spoken word, to use our once private craft as a social tool.
In these moments of temporary extroversion, which are quite frequent these days, maybe not even moments, but rather long collections of engagements, I have met and connected with extraordinary people within the blogging community. And as I have mentioned before these encounters are with some of the most genuine people I have met. It’s funny because the posers, the disingenuous, the maligned are sorted out very quickly, and you are left with a still rather large collection of kind souls. I am still amazed.
But it is also more than that.
There is a section in Chris Brogan’s book Trust Agents, (somewhere in Chapter 3, ‘One of Us’) that talks about how many online relationship might be closer than offline as people tend to share more intimate details with people that are their “friends”. You don’t have to explain to your online friends (even if you meet them offline) why you are so passionate about blogging – a common question posed by non-bloggers. You don’t have to explain how writing every day, even if it is just 30 minutes completes you in away you could have never imagined. You are understood. You are accepted. You are part of some kind of strange inner circle that has the capacity to do amazing things.
I have seen bloggers gather together to raise money and give items to a victim of domestic violence. I have seen bloggers raise money for a freelancer without medical benefits. And I have seen more. Each time I feel blessed to be a part of this community, one that accepts me for who I am and understands where I am coming from.
My only regret is that I did not have my blog when I was living in France from 2003-2007. I had no outlet to discuss my daily struggle as an expat. I did have my weekly missives sent to friends and family back home, which I called Misadventures with Andi, but I did not have the community of blogging friends that I have now which would have undoubtedly kept me sane on those days where I thought I would go insane!
And so I missed out on meeting Kasia when I was living in France, but you know what? I don’t think we were ready to meet yet. I think the Universe is much smarter than we are. So we met when we met, connected as bloggers in love with the same city, a bond that strengthens every day. One of many incredible people I have bonded with as part of this amazing generous community.
Thank you Andi! May you continue to inspire and enjoy this wondrous journey of ‘virtual extrovertism’! And yes, we must indeed trust the Universe. (Why I am living in Paris, after all!) Stay tuned for Blogging with Andi: Part 2: The How…
I liked Amy Thomas the moment I met her. Not simply because she arrived to Paris from NY (though us New Yorker’s do tend to stick together). Perhaps we bonded due to our careers in advertising or passion for writing. No. Amy is a dreamer. A romantic. A thinker. Above all, a lover of all things sweet, as she has so appropriately coined herself Sweet Freak. In her blog God, I love Paris Amy shares her nearly two-year long love affair with Paris, where she has always dreamed to live. But some romances are not meant to last. I will allow Amy to explain, in the name of love.
Can one question change your life?
I’m willing to bet a 25-piece box of Jean-Paul Hevin bonbons on it.
In 2008, I was sitting in my office, living what I considered to be a pretty dreamy life. I was single, owned my own place in the East Village, and was braving New York’s dating world. I had a great group of friends, and I liked my job as an advertising copywriter. But I loved my moonlighting dalliances even more: exploring and writing about sweets. Life was good: easy, fun, comfortable. Then my ad agency’s in-house recruiter walked into my office and nonchalantly asked:
What do you think about Paris?
Let me just pause and say—I am obsessed with Paris. Almost as obsessed as I am with sweets. So when the recruiter revealed that the Paris office of my international agency was looking for an English-speaking writer to work on the Louis Vuitton account, my first question was how soon could I leave? Of course I wanted to go live in Paris and work with one of the best fashion houses in the world. What Louboutin loving, Coco worshipping, macaron addict wouldn’t?
The only thing holding me back from the City of Light (and Dark Chocolate) was several months of bureaucracy. Five long months of waiting, the papers were finally in place (a little preview to the pace of life in Paris). I packed my laptop, clothes and black tabby cat, and then gulped, vigorously nodding my head as my doorman reminded me on the way out, “It’s like business and pleasure. You’re getting paid to do what you love.” Indeed, I was off to live my dream.
And a dream it’s been. Especially the first six months. Having arrived in early March, each new day was a little bit longer and brighter. Spring turned into summer—a beautiful and balmy season when the sun didn’t set until 10 p.m. I became an instant Velib addict, to say nothing of the sweets. I cruised from Les Petits Mitrons in the 18eme to Du Pain et des Idées in the 10eme. From Blé Sucré in the 12eme to Pain du Sucré in the 4eme. From Michel Chaudun to Michel Cluizel; from Ladurée to Pierre Hermé; Les Deux Abeilles, Stohrer, Le Patisserie de Reves… there was to be no viennoiserie, gateau or bonbon unsampled by me. After all, I told myself, biking from sweet spot to sweet spot, this was a great way to get to know my new hometown. Which was true. But as familiar as I became with each arrondissement’s best patisseries and chocolatiers, and their closest Velib stations, many of the city’s customs, codes of conduct and unspoken rules were still foreign to me.
And then the inevitable happened. After a prolonged honeymoon phase, I crashed. Hard. Summer had turned into fall, which turned into a long, dark winter. My beautiful city was suddenly cold and alienating. Not being able to communicate with the postmaster or dry cleaner was no longer a challenge that I approached as sort of fun and charming, but, rather, left me feeling totally defeated. Which just made me miss my friends, family and comfortable, easy life back in New York.
But I plodded on. With work (pulling longer hours than I ever did in New York). With French lessons (often swallowing cries of frustration when I couldn’t wrap my tongue around those R’s). With making friends (though this—gasp!—entailed befriending almost exclusively other expats as I couldn’t get a proper Parisian to give me the time of day). I willed myself to be tough. To stay strong. To smile, even if it made me look like an American dork. But mostly I lamented my lost love. I just wanted to feel moved by Paris the way I once had.
In hindsight, I know it was a perfectly natural cycle. Even the best affairs cool down at some point. After that initial head-over-heels infatuation, the ho-hum reality sets in and the daily grind is no longer sexy or romantic. Even in Paris. So after a season of sulking and consoling myself with a ridiculous amount of bonbons, I reset my expectations for a more “real” relationship with the city.
And now, the love affair continues. I cram my days with observing and writing, eating and drinking, Velib’ing and, toujours, ogling and sampling the sweets. And I have wonderful friends to share the meals, wine, stories and moments with. I’m a happy, lucky girl and I love every day that I’m here.
Because… all good things must come to a close. As mad as I am for Paris, I’m returning to my first love. New York is calling my name. It’s not been an easy decision, but I know it’s time to go home. And instead of looking at Paris or New York as an “either/or” option, I see it as “both”. Sometimes you can have your cake and eat it too.
Paris will dearly miss Amy and her ‘joie de vivre‘, even the vélibs will feel the loss. Not to mention the pâtisseries! But her sweet life continues in New York. And lucky us to be able to read all about it in her upcoming book to be released in March 2012, a merging of God, I love Paris and Sweet Freak. Sounds like an ideal union to me!
Cat Beurnier has a sweet life in Paris, quite literally! She is the founder and owner of Sugar Daze, a leading American-style cake and cupcake business in Paris. Well known and savored by both expats and locals since it’s inception in 2008. When I met her and found out she was also an ex-ad girl from New York, with an equally entrepreneurial spirit, I took a liking to her immediately and began to inquire about the hardships of settling into life in Paris. Cat’s story not only inspired me but it filled me with hope that it does get easier and it is possible to create a new path, with great resolve, hard work and dedication to your dreams.
My story begins with a coup de foudre which happened approximately 29 years ago when I first visited Paris with my mother and grandmother. Though I had lived in New York City all my life (a city millions dream of running away to), the charm, the beauty, the history of Paris won me over almost the second our taxi turned off the Peripherique. Paris was a place I would return to time and again — on vacation, for a summer study abroad, for my junior year in university… I never tired of it and each trip left me wanting more. When I graduated from university, I spent a few months looking for work in various French corporations but my leads never panned out – unemployment was high and no one was willing to sponsor me, a recent grad with no real experience to get my work papers. I contemplated moving to France and working as an undeclared server at one of the many bars or restaurants that cater to the Anglo-Saxon crowd (something I had done the summer after my junior year). But in the end, I wasn’t brave enough to make the leap of faith and head down this unknown, unchartered course.
I found a job in a well-known ad agency in New York and fell into daily life as a young, single gal in the Big Apple. I loved my dynamic, fast-paced job. I very slowly started to work my way up the corporate ladder. I even got to travel to Paris a few times to assist on some new business projects. Fortunately, I had an endless supply of friends, and even some boyfriends, who happily agreed to accompany me on the frequent vacation to Paris so I could get my fix!
Fast-forward about 10 years, when I experienced love at first site for the second time in my life. I was at a party with an ex-boyfriend (who yes, I had at some point dragged to Paris!) when I saw this tall, handsome stranger standing with a group of people at the side of the room. I casually walked over, joined in their conversation and fell under the spell of his charm. As the evening went on, I found myself alone with him chatting and sharing stories as if we had known each other for years. At some point talk turned to how we knew the hostess and he told me she dated a friend of his before they both moved to New York. Curious to hear more, I asked where he was from. When he said Paris, my jaw dropped open. I hadn’t detected a hint of an accent in his voice, and yet when I looked closer, I saw that yes indeed, his choice of clothing, his mannerisms, his features, etc. gave away his distinct un-American-ness.
Long story short, over the course of the next five years we dated, moved in together, and married. The funny thing about my husband is that he was just as much a romantic about NYC as I was about Paris! Moving to France was never a consideration for us; I was content with the once a year or so trips we made to visit his family. And then our son was born and it was a total game changer. Cramped into our one-bedroom apartment with our son in a crib at our feet, we started fantasizing about the type of apartment we could have in France, and what neighborhood we would live in. On a whim, we listed our apartment in the Sunday NY Times and I don’t think either of us could really believe it when just a month later, we found ourselves signing it away. Those last few months in NY were surreal — we were new parents and about to set off on a whole new adventure on the other side of the Atlantic! My husband hadn’t lived in France for 10 years and I think he felt the culture shock coming back just as much as I did.
We arrived in Paris at the end of November seven years ago this month. For those of you who know Paris, you’ll probably agree this is one of the worst times to have started our new life here. Months of cold, damp and grey weather as a new mother unaccustomed to life outside the office left me feeling depressed and sullen. My husband’s friends, who had always been so warm and welcoming when we visited, many of them new parents too, were too busy with their day-to-day lives to hold my hand as we settled in. And to complicate matters, our fly by the seat of our pants “planning” meant living at my in-laws until we could find a place of our own. Which actually didn’t take too long as I was totally motivated! It took me a loooonnnngggg time to adjust to my new life in France, but little by little, I started making friends and got the hang of life as a stay-at-home mom.
France is a country where families are king. And the benefits families receive to ensure their kids are looked after as they return to work are nothing short of amazing. Because I had never worked legitimately in France, many of those benefits were not available to me, and my husband encouraged me to return to work before we thought about expanding our family. I had become very involved in an English-speaking parents group called MESSAGE, and took on the role of VP, Public Relations but it was pro-bono work and so no benefits to speak of. As I started to think about a return to corporate life, I realized that the long hours, the stress, the travel – it just wasn’t worth trading my time with my son. I found myself at the age of 35 taking a long hard look at my life as I tried to figure out what I “wanted to be when I grew up.” I decided on a radical change and began investigating the possibility of my own business.
One of my childhood dreams was to be a pastry chef. In fact, my closest elementary school friend, Suzanne, and I used to “host” a cooking show called “Snacks Delight” where every weekend we would whip up a different dessert in front of our “live studio audience” (usually comprised of her little sister or our Barbie dolls). As an adult, I studied pastry at a culinary school during a period of unemployment and worked for several restaurants and a caterer in the US. It’s physically hard work but something I enjoy enormously. I’ve never considered myself overly creative but when I bake, I have the sense of accomplishing something made with my own hands. Our last apartment in New York was just around the corner from the famous Magnolia Bakery and since I love cupcakes, I was inspired to import this traditional American dessert to my new adopted “hometown.” But just as this idea was taking shape, I found out I was pregnant again. I had to put my project on the back burner and there it stayed until late 2008. I had kind of given up hope on ever having my own store as I was just so busy with 2 children and dealing with everyday family life, which in a foreign country can sometimes be complicated. But I always found time to bake on the weekends, for friends, etc. and one day I found myself agreeing to make cupcakes for a friend of a friend for a party she was having. And thus my company, Sugar Daze (formerly Little Miss Cupcake), was born.
Around that time, I read an article in an entrepreneur’s magazine that advised that if you have a dream, and you don’t have the money or the support or the time to realize it, you don’t have to scrap your dream entirely. Instead, take a step back and figure out how to make this dream a reality on a smaller scale. And that is exactly what I have done by creating a small, custom order cupcake business. Things just took off after that first order; I started a blog to document my baking adventures which got my name out there, and through the grapevine, people came to hear about me and my cupcakes. Baking and making cupcakes is one of my greatest passions and knowing how happy they make people is a reward in and of itself. But it isn’t always a cakewalk. Most mornings, I am up and at my kitchen by 5 to bake the day’s orders fresh from scratch. I am back home by 8 to get my kids up, dressed and out the door for school. My daughter is only 3 and spends her afternoons with me. And so after a full day of shuttling my kids around and taking care of household chores (and my husband!), I often find myself working late into the night once everyone has gone to sleep to catch up on paperwork or to hand-craft the decorations that top my cupcakes. I am the sole employee of Sugar Daze and so this means that my responsibilities include answering all inquiries, shopping for supplies, baking and decorating all the cupcakes, doing my own accounting, creating marketing materials, making deliveries, etc. (and most of this is done in a language that is not my mother tongue!). I feel like a lot of my days are some wild juggling act where at any minute the whole thing is going to come crashing down but I’m doing something I absolutely love and that makes the difference.
I believe that many times in life, your destiny is shaped by being in the right place at the right time. Some may say this happened on the night I met my husband, and looking back, I realize how fortunate I was to start up my business just as the cupcake craze took hold in Paris. It’s taken a lot of work to get where I am today and without a storefront, it’s sometimes hard to compete with the growing number of cupcake stores. But I believe in my products and am constantly experimenting and improving my offerings to ensure they are the best American-style cupcakes you’ll find in Paris! Life continues to be a challenge but I am living proof that you can have your cake and eat it too!
To indulge in Cat’s dream life of cupcakes, take a look at all the sweet possibilities on her menu. I recommend La Vie en Rose or perhaps a Black Coffee in Bed? And let’s not forget the NYC classic Empire State of Mind. I could go on… Thank you Cat, for making life in Paris a little sweeter!
Update: In June 2012, Cat opened her Sugar Daze Bake Shop in the dynamic South Pigalle area of Paris. Sugar Daze serves an array of cupcakes – sweet and savory – cheesecakes, brownies and other American baked goods with a rotating daily menu, available for eat-in or take-out. Custom orders and cupcake classes are also available. The Bake Shop is open Wednesday-Sunday (see www.sugardazecupcakes.com for more details). 20 rue Henry Monnier, 75009, 09.83.04.41.77
, (somewhere in Chapter 3, ‘One of Us’) that talks about how many online relationship might be closer than offline as people tend to share more intimate details with people that are their “friends”. You don’t have to explain to your online friends (even if you meet them offline) why you are so passionate about blogging – a common question posed by non-bloggers. You don’t have to explain how writing every day, even if it is just 30 minutes completes you in away you could have never imagined. You are understood. You are accepted. You are part of some kind of strange inner circle that has the capacity to do amazing things.
