If it seems like I've been MIA recently, it's because-- well-- I've been hiding out on Long Island.
I flew home to New York last Tuesday because, as I mentioned, my little sister graduated from college, and she had to be appropriately fêted. The party took place yesterday and it was quite an affair-- family came in from both my mom's and my dad's sides, a melange of Italians, Jews, and Irish Catholics that made my backyard look like the Lower East Side at the turn of the century. Except everyone was beautifully dressed, the party was gorgeous, and there weren't any screaming babies present (there was one baby, little Isabella, but except for some projectile vomiting she behaved beautifully).
My sister and I have historically not looked anything alike, but since lately we're wearing our hair similarly and have the same blond highlights, as well as vageuly similar builds and fashion styles, yesterday people kept congratulating me and telling my sister she looked French.
Luckily, the number of times I was asked "What the hell are you doing over there?" was kept to a minimum, and I became adept at defusing inflammatory anti-French comments by mentioning that my sister would be joining be for a week in France, before joining her boyfriend in Rome for a month, thus recentering the conversation on the college graduate and removing myself from the fire.
Although I worried I would suffer from the same ennui that struck me when I was home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, this time I found that six days was far too short a visit. I saw a lot of my friends, but very briefly-- three hours with Pam, dinner with Matt, overnight with Wendy, drinks with Helena and Lizzie. So I fly home to Paris tomorrow and have promised to spend another two weeks in New York in August. Why the hell not. As long as I can bring my dog, because I'm very unhappy without him.
Regarding the entry from 22 May in which I listed my favorite American foods and extolled the virtues of American versus French boys: I have crossed off nearly everything on my list, and when I was in Manhattan I had to fight the urge to sign up for J-Date and find myself one of those adorable boys I kept seeing in Midtown. If they'd be willing to come work for Goldman Sachs in Paris we'd have something to talk about...