My roommate and I scoured saint germain nightly for activities over the past week. We were lucky, sometimes unlucky, enough to have manyadventures. She found a young love. He was a wonderful stylish half Scottish documentary director with a gorgeous little family, he shared a flat with his siblings, pandora and archibald. I really appreciate the fabulous people we run into here.
Some are not so fabulous. There was a situation or two that had to be dealt with but I feel like I am better for it.
I wish I could describe this past week. Month. I don't ever want to leave. I just want to live off rice crackers in hotels, sip Bloody marys at cafe de flore, discover more chic secret night clubs, construct schemes to avoid bar creatures, console dramatic parsons students, tell the well dressed shop keepers merci, au revoir every time I leave, befriend our neighbors, duck into chocolate cafes during a spontaneous angry downpour, trip on my borrowed heels, unpack and repack and shuffle from home to home, get excited over bathtubs, smoke with friends at 4 am because the clubs are closed but we aren't done so we dance to our little ipod playlists.
Today it is officially. My wonderful roommate ducked into a black taxi on a crowded street this morning, and wiggled her long fingers farewell, true hands of an artist, and I turned around and went back tonour hotel room that felt like a trailer and read and contemplAted a bit. What am I feeling? Sadness? Freedom? Nervousness?
I'll go to the train station today and look at tickets. Still not sure where I'm going. Maybe I'll do a little research and pick a place, I know everywhere will be just as amazing, just different, but Paris is my home and I love it here and am not inclined to return to Oregon .
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