Pack Up the Wine, Break Out the Vodka

Apologies for the radio silence.  Howevs, this past week Paris has been having an identity crisis in that it thinks it is Siberia.  And OF COURSE this would be the week that I'm reading all sorts of status updates from my friends back in the Midwest who are talking their beautiful, unseasonably warm weather (and to those of you who talked about grilling out, my envy runs deeper than you know) so I've even lost my "Oh, the winters in Paris aren't that bad at all!" smugness.  Bah.  Instead, I've been hibernating, staying in to do homework and watching the extended editions of Lord of the Rings with AH.  These are certainly little pleasures in their own rights (AH and I have been seeing how many Chuck Norris jokes we can make during our LOTR viewings), but alas, not as interesting as, say, Pantsless Jesus.

Exactly how cold has it been?  This Sunday was the first Sunday of the month, when all the museums in Paris are free.  Also, this was my by-week for teaching the wee ones about Jesus, so I didn't need to be at church until 1:30 in the afternoon.  Plans were made to visit the Grand Palais.  And then AH and I woke up Sunday morning, only to have the internet tell us that it was 12 degrees (yes, Fahrenheit) outside.  We opted instead to wake up, eat breakfast, watch an episode of Modern Family, and then take a nap.  Seriously.  We have become bears.

We did have our first snow this week.  A light dusting, but still enough to send the more whimsical and child-like of my acquaintances to frolicking.  Seeing as I've been wearing leggings under my jeans and several sweaters under my winter coat, and still feeling like I'm moments away from this:

I decided that I would frolic privately in my mind while drinking hot tea.  So here's hoping that as the weather warms up, I'll actually be forced to leave the apartment on a more regular basis and go back to doing Frenchy French things.  But hey, I do have at least one small consolation until then.  At least I'm not the French guy who's going to come downstairs, expecting to dash off to a cafe, only to make this discovery: