dooce dooce

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Heather B. Armstrong  Salt Lake City, Utah

http://www.dooce.com/

Toddler seat next to une moto next to street art next to cobblestone laid how many years ago by hand? And it had poured for five minutes not even a half hour before I took this. Yes, thank you. Amazing.

Wandering around and then stumbling upon a rainbow.

I need to post a proper shot of this since I use a service to print out all my IG photos. It's the only scrapbooking I do. Well, except for the 16 years of public journaling I've done about my life. Forgot about that thing!

The gynecological view of Le Tour Eiffel. Holy crap, what an experience. Holy crap holy crap holy crap.

Paris finally did me in. It ripped me apart at the seams. I almost had to run out of this museum halfway through, I could not handle it. There I was, the dumb American crying her face off in a room full of sculpture, trying to figure out how to breathe. So much love and love and love and more love and then even more love. Be warned: DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS PLACE IN ONE AFTERNOON.

The view from the top of Le Centre Pompidou. The David Hockney exhibit is worth the price of admission alone. Bring tissues and prepare to be overwhelmed.

The tourists got a little chatty today here in this house of our Lord and Savior, and someone in charge had to step in and scream, "SILENCE! C'est une église!" It's as if all these cretins didn't grow up going to three hours of sacrament meeting on Sunday. Grow up.

She knew I was going to be alone on my birthday and she fixed it. This is my baby sister, the person I'd hand my children to immediately in an emergency. They adore her, and one of my greatest achievements in life is giving my kids Cami. Thank you, dear angel, for giving me the best birthday of my life. The years we will spend together with those two little nuggets-in France-my god. I can't wait to do this again with you. ❤️🇫🇷

Ugh. Trash. Total garbage. ONE STAR and only because Yelp won't let me leave zero. Hated it. Whatever. Très caca. Worst birthday ever.

This caption is going to be a long one, but wait for it... I asked myself today what 16yr-old Heather B. Hamilton would think of the life she was living on her birthday at 42. I was sitting along the Grand Canal at Versailles with one of my best and oldest friends in the world, @poppin_pillz_in_the_city, eating bread and an assortment of very French and very not vegan things. The wind was blowing and, dear Lord, the gardens were literally singing opera. Suddenly, I got a happy birthday text message from @cturlington who is, hands down, one of the most generous people on the planet. Those of you who remember 16yr-old Heather B. Hamilton know that I had magazine cutouts of her and Linda Evangelista all over my walls in high school. And right then 16yr-old Heather B. Hamilton had a heart attack. Someone should resuscitate her because she's got one hell of a life to live.

Tonight at midnight I turn 42, and it ends what started out as the worst year of my life, without question. I end it tonight feeling so hopeful. I am in Paris. I am writing every day with words pouring out of my hands. I am here telling a story that so desperately needs to be told. And I am closer to my family than I have ever been, most importantly to my stepfather, a man who has shown me love like I've never known from a father figure. Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Rob. And here on the cusp of the end of this worst year now turned best year, I must thank the man I love. Who knew?

The stroll home after an impromptu dinner last night. I just found a random cafe I'd never seen or heard about, sat a table right next to the street and ate the most exquisite meal with an accompanying glass of rosé and a cone overflowing aux frites. Cette vie, je pourrais m'y habituer.

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