There are the days I get excited

The occasional bubbles of fantasy spill over onto my blog on occasion. There are indeed those days where you can't help but google images of your imaginary life. A life that never holds the weight of relationships missed, rainy days accompanied by bad drivers, spilled coffee all over your new pea coat, homesickness at the most inconvenient times, or stomach flu's. No, this life you google looks like the artsy cover of a travel memoir. Written neatly into several thousand words, a few hundred pages. This life is picturesque. An escape route. A happy place.

I can't stay there, though.
There is more to my dream of France than the opening three minutes of Midnight in Paris. I know this, yet do I believe it? I think I'd rather keep it there sometimes, at a distance with French music in the background. Yet I can't. I itch for more. I don't itch for the moments of adversity, but I'm done dwelling in my fears and anticipating worries that may-or-may-not be rational. I did that with my sister backpacking through Europe, and I refuse to revert back. However, that's no reason not to get a little giddy.
This life will include the following:

Writing in French cafes

Patisseries (with lots of chausson aux pommes)

French Wine
















Walks down the Champs Elysees

Impromptu trips to the Eiffel Tower

Feeling artsy in the Louvre

Evening walks along the Seine

“The glorious thing about France is that it takes no time at all to become a snob about these things. Falling deeply in love with a pastry is easy.”

—	Elizabeth Bard, Lunch in Paris

Midnight in Paris Opening