looking back

It's been one week and 4 days since I left Paris. I'm finally starting to get used to LA. At first, it was heavy jet lag and quite a bit of depression. LA is a far, far cry from Paris, surtout the San Fernando Valley (hey here's some random news-- Hollywood is thinking of filming a remake of Valley Girl. Apparently the script sucks though. Ha.). I've never noticed the smog so much, nor has the traffic ever seemed so horrible. The first thing I did in LA after getting back? Went out for organic Mexican food with a good friend. How stereotypical can I get? Quote of that day? "When did the 'walk' man go from green to white?" "He was always white." "what? No! He was green!" Apparently I was wrong. Another good quote from that weekend? "We can go get you a new cell today honey." "But mom, it's Sunday." "Yeah, so? We're not in Europe." Point is, there are lots of things I'm getting used to again. How to flush the toilet. The fact that shopworkers tell YOU to have a good day and not vice versa. The volume of everyone's voice. The way people dress. Dollars. Hugging and not kissing. Hearing and seeing English all around me. Who would've thought that'd become weird one day?

But this post was supposed to be about looking back. So let's do that, shall we?

From August 28, 2008 until July 31, 2009, while living in the beautiful, fun, cultural France, I...

• spent more money on alcohol, clothes, taxis, and pastries (specifically macarons) than I should have
• learned how to cut my meat differently
  
• got my French friends addicted to two very American games (wine pong-- slight modification-- and concentration)
• hardly ever studied yet learned more than I could have during a year at Wellesley
• picnicked along the Seine quite often
• guided touristes through the marvels that make up Paris
• participated in a strike.
• traveled to 25 French cities and 15 other European cities
• had a stalker until he wrote me a love poem for Valentine's Day and I wrote a mean text back telling him never to talk to me again
• went from being sick of French guys to falling head over heels for one
• interned, taught English, gave tours, and babysat, so I made a bit of money
• knew all of the waiters at Curieux Spaghetti Bar
• made some truly incredible friends who I miss VERY much right now
• lived on two different sides of Paris
• co-piloted a plane
• learned that the French are wonderful, kindhearted people with an amazing history and culture that they have every right to be damn proud of.
  

I miss it so much.

The end, for now. Because I evidently HAVE to go back one day.