Personal space

Since it's 4:23am in the morning and I am totally sleepless (and NOBODY back home is answering their phones!), I started reading some of my other friend's blogs. One of my American friend's husband's most recent post centered on the things he misses from the States that he cannot get here. He listed items such as friends and family, American breakfasts, reading the newspaper, talk radio, all beef hot dogs, and playing ice hockey. For me, one of the things I miss most about "home" (friends and family aside) is SPACE. Although I feel we've done a great job at adjusting to a much smaller living quarters than that with which we were accustomed, (though I'm still a little concerned about the future sleeping arrangements that will be made once baby is sleeping through the night...i.e. do we move the baby into Andrew's room or give up the office for the new baby?...most of my friends don't have the option, i.e. they only have two bedrooms and therefore the children sharing a room is a given, but given the fact that Andrew is not a real deep sleeper, I am concerned about the implications...) anyway, personal space outside of the home is something that has been perhaps even more difficult to get used to. At the beach, someone will plunk their towels and umbrellas down right beside you, like so close you can touch their towel without getting up from your own. Tables in restaurants are placed so close together that you often feel like the people sitting at the table beside you are just a part of your table. And I think worst of it all is parking (that is assuming, you can find a parking spot to begin with!) Yesterday I went to a playground and park with another friend and her two children. Since there were no spots available on the street nearest the park, I pulled into the nearby McDonald's parking lot (which only contained about 15 spots but still had available spaces because it was only 10:15 in the morning and they only opened at 10am) and took my chances that I wouldn't be towed (despite the sign that said parking was for McDonald's clientele only...one thing in France that I have found is very seldomly enforced is parking rules). After a 3 hour play and picnic at the park, I was ready to go and happy to find that my car was still there. However, the dude parked next to me was so close that I could not open the driver's side door enough to get my 9 month belly through the opening and into the car. So...as I've had to do on countless other occasions, I entered through the passenger side and crawled into the driver's side. Not so easy or comfortable when you're 9 months pregnant and the temperature inside the car was like 100 degrees! Needless to say, I was extremely annoyed, had a little "I hate France moment" and then moved on with my day!
Space is one of the first things I notice when I arrive in North America, whether it be the size of homes and rooms, the width of grocery store aisles, or the size of parking lots and it gives me this undescribable feeling of freedom that I long for when I'm in France!