As many of you already know, I love birthdays. (All of them, not just my own, very special, birthday week.)
Actually, if that is new information to you, then I have absolutely no idea how you even found this blog because apparently, you don't know me at all.
October 27th. Mark it, stranger.
And you know what, it's not even just birthdays either. Holidays are when I really shine. I handed out Sweetheart boxes to all the Herald editors on Valentine's Day (Voelkel! I'm sorry..) and wore a full-fledged cow costume on Halloween in Madison. Don't even get me started on Thanksgiving.
Since I was raised a Muslim our family fasted for Ramadan, enduring everyone's favorite Arabic mini-series, and ate all those delicious sunset feasts with a Christmas tree chillin' in our foyer. Then in college it became the norm to consume about a million Latkes for Hanukkah.
My point is this: I am holiday greedy and refuse to let religious barriers stop me.
I usually still let Easter slip by unnoticed, but this year I went all out. I threw myself right out of my comfort zone and right into an Easter morning Catholic Mass at Saint-Sulpice in Paris. Snap.
I've seen my fair share of churches/cathedrals in Paris, as is expected, but it still feels very different when you're doing more than just strolling through and snapping pictures. Although I had some trouble following along (I struggle with French and hardly speak Catholic) it was definitely an experience worth a Paris Je T'aime! scrapbook page. Everyone sang in beautiful unison, so I guess along with an inherent sense of style, French people are born with perfect pitch and harmony.
Saint-Sulpice is the second largest church in Paris and houses one massive organ (wiki fact!) that played for us as we entered and exited.
I skipped the bread and wine part (let's not push it here) but I did bless my neighbors and even almost fell asleep at one point. I hear those are both pretty standard church-going activities, so I'm going to go ahead and check this one off the list.