Joyeux Anniversaire a Moi

Disclaimer: Dad, you may want to bypass this one. Disclaimer: Dad, you may want to bypass this one.

Some people have cake. Some people do parties, celebrations, take vacations, open presents-- you know, The Works-- and I am usually one of them. Last year, there was my Red and White (Wine) Theme Party. The year before that, there was the L-Theme Party. The Rock Star Theme Party, the 80's Theme Party, the New Orleans Theme Party, and who could forget the Super Sweet 16+7 Party for my 23rd?! Not to mention, the dinners at nice restaurants, the family parties and celebrations that took place. But let me tell you this: You have not lived a real birthday, you have not experienced it to the fullest, you have not become cultured until you've spent it at the French gynecologist's office getting your yearly woman’s exam (aka The Dreaded Pap Smear) as I did. It's true. Yes, I know, I'm an adventurer.

It wasn't my intention, nor was it on my Bucket List to spend a birthday being poked and prodded by a sixty year-old French doctor; but when you're an Au Pair with little availability, and Madame Gynecologue says there's an opening September 20th at 3:00 pm, (which will give you just enough time to get in, get out and pick up the girls from school by 4:30) you say, "Oui, merci" and add it to your planner.

So how'd it go you ask? With a grain of salt and mild chagrin, I confess that it was…it was… well, it was definitely something. You see, I'm used to the routine and privacy (or as much privacy as one can have during this type of exam) of the American doctors, where you're given a moment alone to undress, slip on the complimentary (albeit paper) robe and drape the neatly pliéd sheet over your lap as you perch yourself on the exam table to catch up on some light reading. After a tap-tap on the door, "Are you ready?" the doctor comes in, dims the lights and voila…does the exam. I wouldn't go so far to call it an enjoyable affair but it's not dreadful.

Fast forward to September 20th, 2010, 3:26 pm Western European Time, and you'll find me pillared nervously in the French exam room because yes, I've been warned these sort of things in France are different. For starters, the place looks like it could be someone's home office--desk, sofa, pictures of family, etc, but with a bunch of French sex and birth control brochures spread about the bookshelves. Just off to the side of the office is small exam room, barely big enough to fit the exam table and a four foot long counter. After reviewing my medical history en Francais, I stand, waiting for the doctor to politely leave me in peace so I can undress. But as I look around, I see that something's missing. Where is my paper robe and where is my sheet?! I ask in my most articulate French, but I'm received with a blank stare. Thinking that maybe it's the language barrier, I do the hand motions for putting on a robe. Still, nothing. Disregarding my agitation, she instructs me to undress and lie on the table. Lights stayed on; I'm completely exposed and suffice it to say, vulnerable. And maybe it was just me, but I swear there was a draft in the room. The exam and I had to be asked continuously to stop scooting away. By four o'clock, I walked out of the office with my 50 euro receipt and medical certificate (which I need for an upcoming race), swearing that the next time I need a pap, I'll book a flight home, first. But on a positive note, here's to being 26 and disease-free!

The rest of my birthday was a flawless success, as my very French boyfriend surprised me with a night aboard une Peniche (a French houseboat) with its very own indoor pool and spa. There was We sat down to the most delicious (butter-infused, I'm sure) Fruits de Mer (seafood) dinner accompanied by a bottle of Rose wine and spent the evening poolside with champagne (because yes, on the inside of our houseboat was our own swimming pool and spa). I did miss my friends in California; I did miss my family; and there was a part of me that longed for some Peanut Butter Golden Spoon, but, but turning 26 and celebrating my birthday in France (and seaside for that matter) was pretty unforgettable. When it came time to blow out my birthday candles and cut the cake, I got out of the pool and there waiting for me on the wall hook, was my very own robe. They do exist in France.

So here's to another year with new endeavors, new experiences, open doors and opportunities ahead; here's a wish for a little more insight, a little more courage, a bit of bliss and lasting strength. Here goes nothin'

Gratitude

• For my birthday, my mom bought me a massage and a local spa, which was nothing short of wonderful--although again, there were no sheets.
• My birthday horoscope had good things to say. I feel motivated for the year ahead.
• My host family threw a birthday dinner for me last night which was followed by raspberry birthday cake and yes, more champagne.
• This guy reviewed my blog... it's always nice to get feedback.
• The birthday messages from my family and friends made my week :)
• Dinner party this weekend :)