i never mean to miss paris.
but sometimes i do.
oh i do...
to be drunkenly traipsing along the river at night, the eiffel tower sparkling and guiding me home to my horribly creepy apartment but adorably lovely bedroom...!
of course i am talking about the first two weeks of may 2008, and my last two weeks in paris.
if i could live those weeks over and over again (minus the finals, please), i would do it.
please someone speak french with me. i feel like i am losing my mind.
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reading this book called Paris the Secret Hero... it makes me imagine the city and specific locations. Maybe a form of torture.
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