L'Obsession.

No, that's not how you say that en francais. I just thought it looked cute.

Lately, I have a fixation on all things French. I made Adam a French dinner (French onion soup, baguette with cherry-topped brie, and creme brulee) the other night. I wore my Eiffel Tower necklace today. I almost cried because my Eiffel Tower lamp broke but I can't bring myself to throw it out even though it looks ridiculous. I checked out every French film my library had to offer, with "Moulin Rouge" for good measure since it's set in Montmartre. I've been randomly speaking French to Adam in order to teach him because we have this notion that someday we'll run away from America, live in Paris, and open a French version of Plan 9/The Byrd Theatre. It'll be called Jigsaw Puzzle (inside thing). It'll have a shop full of indie/foreign films, a full bar, and a room for film screenings.

Though if that doesn't work out, I still vote that an awesome backup plan would be for him to run a pasta shop called Saucy Mincks and for me to run a bakery called Sweet Caroline's.

Anyway.

This obsession with France has made me spend two hours today on ModCloth.com, bookmarking their items that sound even remotely French, for the day when I can afford them (ha). It made me spend an hour on allrecipes.com looking for more French cooking to try. It made me dig through my closet for forty-five minutes trying to find my old beret. No luck. Better get a new one.

I think I have un petit probleme.