Pizza in Paris

Compared to last week, things are going pretty well. So much so that I’m afraid this will all end with me being rejected by the French Consulate. Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen to me. My writing career is depending on this trip to Paris. (jokes)

What started off as a high-stress week has ended in a pretty normal level of anxiety, and it only took a few hours to resolve all those bureaucratic issues. Unfortunately for anyone who’s reading this (yes, all two of you!), the resolving of my problems makes for a very lackluster post.

There was a group meeting earlier this week of all of us who are a part of this program and going to Paris. The first time we all met I was filled with anxiety. I kept thinking of “plans of attack”  for how I could best get to know everyone in the shortest period of time in order to figure out who I should be aligning myself with and who I should be avoiding. And when I mean there are people to avoid, I don’t mean to imply that I’m analyzing everyone and making a list of the have and have-nots (of coolness). What I really mean is that once we’re out of America and floundering around in Paris (some more than others) there are certain people who will enhance your experience and some who will just rain on you,

And that’s just a fact of life, I’m not really saying something groundbreaking or being catty. It’s all about chemistry; no matter how much you like pizza you just can’t have it at breakfast because it’s just not the right time.. maybe later in the future when you’re at a different place both physically and mentally, but pizza at breakfast is just going to slow you down during the day. You’ll be so thrown off by this unconventional meal that you won’t even remember to enjoy your breakfast-time.  (This is a horrible analogy for many reasons, one being that I could eat pizza for any meal and every day of my life.)

It’s too early to predict who will align with who (even if it’s all just for fun- to recall the time when I thought I would never be friends with AmericanGirl#27, when in fact we became best friends). I do wonder however if friendships formed in Paris (and through French communication nevertheless) can cross oceans and survive translations once we all get back to America.

But that’s too far in the future to even think about.

4 more months until Paris!




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