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. :)