Le snow.

Growing up in Cairo, I am not used to snow. It never EVER ever snows in Cairo. We have a facebook page for the day it hailed in Egypt, it was historical.
It snows every winter in Paris.
Imagine my excitment when the meteo announced that it will be snowing this week. 
The amount of merdes I heard for the next couple of days was unprecedented. While the Frenchies were cursing the snow, I was mad enthusiastic about it. 

I bundled up and took out to the streets of Paris. Sweater, coat, gloves, uggs, fluffy socks, beret, you name it and I was wearing it. I remember wondering how could those little French women still look elegant under all those layers of clothing. But I guess that's something we'll never know, just like how they stay thin after all the baguettes and cheese they eat. 
For how much I tried, I still looked hideous after 18-layers of clothing. 

I think I almost slipped about seven times while running around the city, taking photos of the neige. But I am happy to inform you that, nope, I didn't slip, not even once. I guess the snow was rewarding me for being the only resident in Paris who didn't putain-de-merde him.