I admit that I don’t usually feel like blogging at all, but on the train ride home today I had all of these thoughts floating around in my head, and I thought it would be a good idea to put them down somewhere. So here goes. 

I was just out eating dinner at a cafe with my friend from Australia that goes to a university here, and she mentioned that she was feeling like everything was so surreal; like she couldn’t believe that she was actually in Paris at that exact moment. And we started talking about it, and it hit me too. And we had this moment of complete awe of how an American and an Australian girl both ended up in Paris sitting in this French cafe, when a few months ago we didn’t even know we would be moving here. And I am the first American she has really ever met, and I am pretty sure she is the first Australian I have ever met… and we met in France. So there you go. 

Anyway, sometimes I just have these moments here where I know I am exactly where God wants me. Where things make sense, and I have peace. Those are the moments you live for. The ones that get you through the days of doubt. Their perfume is so strong that you can’t forget about them when you are discouraged because the scent lingers. I have been having more and more of those moments lately. 

The longer I’m here, the more I understand Paris and the Parisian culture. (I am not saying French culture because Paris seems to be a lot different than the rest of France honestly). Sure, there is the romanticized city that everyone thinks of… the city of “amour” and excitement and fashion. People really do carry around baguettes and walk little dogs and smoke cigarettes all the time here. That city does exist. But Paris is so much more than that. The people are so much more than that. Its a real city with real people. People that are affected by years and years of history whether they know it or not. And at first it was sometimes hard for me to understand why Parisians are the way they are, because believe me. the culture is way different than in America. But I am beginning to understand. I’m beginning to blend into it a little I guess. And also, it is such a multicultural city. So there is a little bit of flavor from all over the world… so there is that side to the city as well. 

Alright, only one more thing I want to say. My friend from Australia told me that Australians call McDonald’s “Macca’s”. Actually, she said something about “Macca’s” and then was totally shocked when I had no idea what she was talking about. The french people call McDonald’s “MacDo” (pronounced like Mac-Doh). I just thought it was funny… I mean, its American. Not like I’m really proud of that. But it’s funny that every country has to have their own word for it. The french also call Starbucks “Starbuck” because they are French and have to do everything their own way. And also because they have a hard time with the “s” :) 

Anyway, that’s all for now. I miss you all!

J’espere que vous passez une bonne semaine :) 

Biz!