I know I said I’d try to get a post up between Franco File Friday’s and I almost didn’t make it. Surprisingly, I have been doing what I normally don’t do when I’m on vacation – taking a {slight} break from social media use and prioritizing face to face connections… you know, that antiquated form of communication. So far so good though now that the marital celebrations, the free stuff (just check out this view from the apartment suite the Doubletree comped us last weekend!) and the three-day physically draining yet spectacular whirlwind NYC trip have all passed. I’m back to suburban living for five more days where the pull toward technology is once again irresistible.

It feels really good to be here and I must say, I can’t help but giggle in sadistic delight that I missed the Paris heat wave. East coast humidity is nothing to joke about but the access to air conditioning is a true luxury (and despite what all French people will tell you, you will not catch a cold by going in and out of air conditioning nor from going scarf-free in 85 degree weather. Complete fallacy).

But no visit home would be complete without a few ethnographic observations. As though it were my first time on American soil, here a few things that caught my attention in stark contrast to Paris:

• American women show far more cleavage than Parisian women. Twitter friends quipped that this is because Parisian women don’t have much to show off above the naval, but I think it’s because they don’t believe in showing cleavage AND leg. One or the other, not both. Remember? 
• American food portions really are that big. I’ve seen a drastic increase in my Paris dinner plate but nothing quite compares to the quantity of food piled onto one plate at almost any given American eatery. Even in New York and Philly with world-renowned chefs and refined restaurants, I still can’t finish my plate. Not a novel discovery, just an observation that simultaneously baffled and horrified my in-laws. No photo evidence, you’ll just have to trust me.
• Despite the point above, it seems so much easier to eat healthier in America. Sounds strange, huh? The size of desserts literally intimidate me and my digestive tract out of indulging (score!) and the establishments that cater to those who do not believe that potatoes are suitable vegetables (ahem, Frenchies) are far more numerous. Just watch out for that salt.
• People are just plain nicer. I don’t believe French people are rude and I’m not going to get into that debate but I find Americans, even New Yorkers, far more forthcoming. Example. A man walked hurriedly past me on the street in NY as I waited outside a shop for C. and he said “don’t stand there, you’re going to get dumped on”. I turned behind me and saw I was standing in a very dangerous bird-excretion zone. How wonderful of him to share his concern! I screamed after him, “wow, thank you!!” to which he said, in the thickest New Yorker accent you can imagine, “no problem”. Would a Parisian warn you of potential bird droppings? Not likely.
• The taxis are a wonderful, efficient, easily accessible, relatively affordable army that made Parisian taxis look like unprofessional amateurs just out for a joy ride. Just remember: it’s illegal for them to refuse to take you to Brooklyn!