Renewed: a la Europe: Fries taste better with a fork.

We arrived in Paris yesterday morning (11:00am Paris time)and since then I haven’t stopped smiling. “I’M IN PARIS”, I kept saying…no squealing…out loud. Sigh. I think my classmates and professors were getting a little annoyed of my excitement, but I didn’t care. I’m in Paris! What is it about Paris the just makes my heart go pitter-patter? So many things.

Cities. I love cities. I love the hustle and bustle. I love the people. I love that it feels alive. Yes, I’m a small town girl who loves her trees, mountains, and quiet, cool, fresh air, but I love the city…oh how I love it so! As you’ve read in my previous blog posts (or maybe you haven’t), I really enjoy, no….NEED, my alone time. In a city, there are so many people that you can sort of blend in with the crowd. Get lost. Be alone amongst the masses. I’m sure if I lived here, I would probably get pretty overwhelmed and annoyed with it, but right now, I’m in love. I’ve enjoyed every Metro ride, every mile walked, every “Bonjour”, every passer-by, every people-watching, every encounter, everything. Amidst the chaos, I’m able to be alone and to breathe.

Romance. Another reason to love Paris. Love is everywhere. Couples walking hand-in-hand, romantic tables for two set at the café, beautiful lights ignite the city as if fireflies have filled the night sky. No matter where you are in the city, you can stop, look around, and feel the love. Ascheesy as that sounds, it’s true. I may not be in love while I’m here, but Idefinitely can appreciate how wonderful and special love really is. I endorseit. I encourage it. As my friend Emily always says, “I love love”.

Independence. Even though we’re in a big group setting and have been lead by a tour guide, I got a glimpse of so much independence today once we were released to tour the Lourve on our own. I’m an extremely independent person. I was an only child for 8 years, I moved away for college immediately after high school, I’ve lived on my own and loved it, I’d like to think I’m fairly “street smart”, I figure things out pretty easily, I learn quickly, I watch others and learn from them, I’m aware, I’m 100% fine being alone, I often get annoyed when others want to follow, because I don’t like feeling like I can’t do what I want…do you see what I mean? I’m independent. Very independent. Before leaving for Europe, I lost a bit of my independence. I was forced to rely on a lot of people during my knee surgery and I don’t think I ever fully regained “being on my own” after that. I found myself only doing what others wanted to do, following the crowd, and being lost in my way because I wasn’t taking time to do things just for me. There are even a handful of times I can remember apologizing for my likes and dislikes and trying to conform to the opinions and styles of my friends. And now I’m here in this busy, beautiful city and am noticing that men and women of all ages are so independent. They walk on and off the Metro with so much confidence and character. They forge the streets with passion. And they look so happy doing it. I want some of that independence breathed back into me. I used to be that girl. And during the last 1.5 days it’s like osmosis reaction has happened. Evenwhile having to stay in groups and follow the guides, my independent personality has started to come back. I get on that Metro with confidence just like the French, I walk down the street with passion, and I’m happy doing it. Not only am I happy doing it, but I would be happy doing it alone. It’s ok to ask for help, in fact, sometimes it’s necessary. It’s great to lean on a friend, in fact, sometimes it’s necessary. It’s great to want a companion (oreven a relationship), in fact, sometimes it’s necessary. But it’s so comforting to know that I am ok on my own. And thanks to this city, I’ve been reminded of the strong, confident, independent girl I used to be.

Fries. The French eat fries with a fork. What's not to love about that!?

Here’s a little snapshot of the highlights we’ve seen. Wesaw so so SO much more, but there were my favorites.

BTW…my main goal while in Paris was to be mistaken as French (because I’m obsessed with Paris fashion and was hoping I dressed the part).Anywho…tonight…it happened. Twice. Once at the restaurant for dinner. I said a few things in French to the waitress and she handed me a French menu. I askedfor an English one and she said, “sorry, I thought you spoke French”. Second, I wason the metro going back to the hotel and this guy sat next to me and Alicen and started speaking to me in French. I looked at him blankly and he said, “oh sorry, I guess you don’t speak French”. My wish came true. Ok so maybe they just thought I was an American who knew french, but still, they questioned it for a second

Art walk!