On Sunday, May 20th I posted the following on Facebook from Paris:

It is 20 minutes after midnight…so if I was a Parisian, I would be officially entering into the first day of my new decade. I just spent the past 17 hours drinking fine French wines, being serenaded by United flight crews and the amazing staff of Joel Robuchon, eating amazing food, walking off my chocolate, and touching the Eiffel Tower…twice. I’ve also slept a mere 90 minutes in 24 hours. Thank you all for the best possible birthday…ever. Now I shall sleep. Hot man next to me, the sounds of Paris around me, the Eiffel Tower in the distance, and Versailles awaiting. Damn good day.

It’s now been exactly 30 days since I entered my 40th year. So, how to best elaborate on this most amazing day? Let me do my damnedest to describe every wonderous moment:

• Being birthday serenaded by the caustically entertaining crew of United #130 at minutes past midnight and having them present us with a warm cinnamon roll and mimosas commandeered from First Class. The first of my many non-Paleo consumptions.

• Our arrival in Paris! Even though our room was not yet ready, we had traveled all night, and we had slept little, we descended upon the glorious city with the vigor of the rested and the clean.

• The Arc de Triumphe! The Eiffel Tower! Champs Elysees!

• My brunch consisted of the best omelet EVER, partnered with a lovely French red. (Reminded me of a more expensive Manila morning!) Jason went with breakfast courses consisting primarily of pastry. He often imitates a hobbit.

• The battle of the baquettes began.

• Having all the evil myths dispelled about the hostile French. They are helpful, kind, formal, restrained when appropriate, and absolutely willing to assist a couple of simple Americans looking stranded and a tad weary.

• My breaking down a little from sleep deprivation, and Jason rescuing me with a taxi that seemingly fell from the heavens.
  

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• Taking a hot shower and napping for 90 minutes in the delightful Hotel de Banville. We would absolutely stay there again. Sophie’s room overlooks the Eiffel Tower and is so worth the 6th floor walk-up.

• Being surprised and gifted with vintage diamonds. His love for me makes me smile.

• Jason thinking I was a shorter girl and repeatedly smacking me in the head with our bright red umbrella.

• Being pretty and eating course after course of perfect food with perfect wine and a perfect man at Joel Robuchon’s L’Atelier. They made all our culinary decisions and we couldn’t have chosen better.

• The staff and Executive Chef of L’Atelier singing me Happy Birthday in English after bringing us not one, but three desserts.

• The Eiffel Tower…again. Pretty in the daytime can be stunning in the evening. The Tower must be a 40-year-old girl.

• An evening stroll which led to the carousel, more wine, another dessert, a joking cafe waiter, and little cars. Or we just happen to be larger than all the vehicles.
  

• Being lulled to sleep in my first post-40 hour in a charming Parisian hotel, next to my beloved man, and using the Eiffel Tower as a nightlight.
  

Happy Birthday to me. I am happy. Happy and grateful and thankful. Happy to be 40. Happy.