it's not always rainbows and butterflies

Every day is hard. I typically wake up not ready for another day of struggling. Struggling to buy groceries, struggling to have simple conversations, struggling to make food the french way, struggling to understand the metric system, struggling to know the 24 hour clock, struggles, struggles, struggles!

At some point in every day I want to just give up and come home, go to school like everybody else. But there's been something absolutely amazing in every day that I've been here that just takes my breath away, so whenever I have the thought of coming home, I want to slap myself for thinking it. Especially cause I've only been here one small week! It's not even that I'm homesick; It's the language barrier. Everyone speaks so fast that I just can't picture myself ever being able to understand it. 

But the thing I have to remember (this post is really more for me than for you) is that if I gave up and came home, I know I'd hate it. I'd hate being there. I'd hate knowing I was a quitter. I'd hate knowing I wasted a once in a lifetime opportunity full of experienecs and could-have-beens. I'd regret it my whole life long. So I'm not going to do that. No matter how lonely I feel or how unable I am to communicate. In the end, it's only 10 months of my life here, so I'm just going to try and make the most of it.  And if I can make it here, then I'll be able to make it anywhere.  

odeurs

Out of all the technology in the world, there's still no way for me to transport the smells I'm smelling! So hopefully my words will be an adequate source to give you at the very least an idea of what it's like here.

Paris smells of smoke. Everyone smokes, and they smoke everywhere. Even on their motorcycles in traffic! But at night time with the window cracked open, the trees with their orange leaves falling to the ground in the rain, and the smells of dinner coming together, you just have to take a step back and breathe it all in. Malo (one of those boys I'm watching) was practicing his [lovely] piano while I prepared the steamed green beans (using a "cocotte minute" pot which is trés formidable) ravioli, raisins (grapes), and compte cheese. It was so relaxing after a long day full of walking. (Which by the way, you do A LOT of.)

When I walk to pick up Eloi from school, I pass many crêperies, street markets, cafés, and boulangeries. The smells are SENSATIONAL. The French have a special talent of making food look, smell, sound, and feel absolutely delicious before actually having eating it! It's wonderful. And awful.. Who knew I'd pick up a bread addiction so quickly? And ALWAYS be hungry? <<Just kidding. That one isn't really new.>>

As I was saying. I no longer feel that I'll die from second hand smoke, because there are so many more smells than just that one. Like the one I smelled on the Seine River in the midday fog and sun--Ugh, I can't even describe it!  But there's so much to take in and enjoy, and it's just hitting me that this isn't a vacation. I live here, and I get to see Paris in all the seasons. I am simply overwhelmed with happiness.

A doodle I doodled while doodling earlier. :)

   

First Weekend in Paris

I live 75 steps up the staircase in a small studio in Paris, swallowed up by two views  of tall buildings on either side of me. I arrived here by way of airplane, then the TGV train down from Germany, with my big brother. I hope I never forget the moment Ryan told me to look out my taxi window to see the Eiffel Tower poking out of the city. I wanted to cry because it's always been a dream of mine to see it, which is about when I asked Ryan to pinch me incase I was still just dreaming. (He obliged.)

Not only did I get to see it, but I started out this whole new adventure of living in a foreign country by being as touristy as it gets and going to the top! You betcha I hugged that tower. But before we did all that, we had stopped at a café for a bite to eat. As we ate, thick dark clouds rolled in and thunder and lightning flashed. I could HARDLY contain my excitement (Ryan will vouch for that). Audrey Hepburn in one of her movies said that the first thing you do in Paris is find yourself an honest to goodness rain. I was lucky enough to get that the first day! Thanks Audrey.

Before bed, Ryan and I put on a Lush face mask. My brother is awesome in that way. My first morning we took the métro to the Champs Élysées and ate at Ladurée. They're famous first for their tea, and also their french toast. I also enjoyed my first pain du chocolat. For lack of a better word, it all was amazeballs. Ryan took the next train back to his home, and I took the métro back to where I needed to be, ALL BY MYSELF. Later I discovered my first Parisian chocolat et fraise glace on one of those sweet double scoop cones you see in the movies. Then I was introduced by my au pair host to the man in the flower shop who spoke some English, and was very nice to me. Afterward, I was told she was surprised he was so nice to me because he's usually a grouch to everyone. I was called special. I hope so!

French is beautiful. I've barely studied it over the years, but I can look at things and remember the name for it. (e.g. "bee" is "abeille") Or as I hear conversations, sentences sort've make sense. I'm even dreaming in some French! So it's a start. Back home, I'd have French flashcards and only think of those words as I saw them, but here my brain replays words I've heard and I'm constantly trying to pronounce them correctly in my brain. It's pretty cool. Paris is pretty cool. I am so lucky to be here.