Easter vacation, and home around the corner

I've spent the past two weeks having the time of my life: a week and a half in Bordeaux and Madrid with old friends, followed by five days in Provence with a new friend. I've been to the Prado and Plaza de Mayor; I've visited cathedrals in Toledo and beaches in Cassis, the port in Marseille and my old apartment in Aix; and I've drank far more wine and eaten far more delicious food than is healthy for one person.

This year has very much been an experiment in pushing boundaries - in throwing rules and expectations out the window: staying out until the sun rises; singing and playing guitar badly in front of crowds of people; speaking constant, imperfect French; spending money I don't have. No doubt I'll always look back on it fondly as a year of the most intense and carefree fun, the year I said f*ck you to being perfect, the year I learned to live utterly and entirely for myself, the year I was 23 and France was my oyster and life wasn't serious yet. In the process of it, I've met wonderful, kind, genuine people who have seen me on my best and worst days, and for whom I've seen the same. I imagine stepping on the airplane in Paris will be like ripping a band-aid off a fresh wound. People will speak to me in English again and I'll be leaving the continent indefinitely, where all the people I've grown to love this year will stay. So all I can say is: vive the next eleven days, and New York, please be kind to me.


(11. A Song From Your Favorite Band)