Time-Lapse Photography

As I prepare to head back to Paris today, a few more observations about New York.

Returning to your home after months away is like seeing your life in time-lapse photography. Not just the obvious things that I noted in my last post, but more subtle changes in people and places.

My 12-year-old nephew's voice has noticeably changed in the last four months, for example. One friend's substance abuse problem seems to have gotten worse. Many more nightclubs have closed and the mood at those that remain is distinctly subdued. At the stores, I have never seen such sales in my life (50% off everything at Bloomingdale's Soho!).

(There were no such sales when I left Paris, but that's because French law prohibits sales except at certain times of year. They should be going when I get back; stay tuned for details.)

I also noticed, as the days went on here, how subtly different my consumption of alcohol and caffeine has become while living in France.

The French drink lots of coffee and wine, but at any one sitting they drink less than Americans do. Coffee comes in single espresso-size shots, for the most part. A 12-ounce cup of coffee at my office cafeteria in New York -- the smallest size they offer -- is huge in comparison, and wired me way too much for the day. Yet I used to drink even more than that in the morning, sometimes.

French restaurants serve wine by the bottle, of course, and bottles are the same size everywhere. But most also serve it in carafes, which come in standard sizes of one-third and two-thirds of a standard wine bottle. It turns out that one-third of a bottle is the perfect amount of wine with a meal. Half a bottle, as one would have if sharing it with one's partner, sends one over the edge from contented to sleepy.

What this means as far as changes in my life when I get back for good next month, I don't know yet. But I'll be glad to get back to the right amounts of these things starting tomorrow.