I think I have said how much I miss being in Europe about 100 times on this blog. I'm pretty sure everyone on here is tired of hearing about it too. But again today, I am going to talk about Paris. Josh and I talk about Europe alot, sometimes we don't say anything for awhile, and then there are days when the topic comes up more than once. Sometimes it is because we have seen something on t.v. and sometimes it's just from the sheer missing of those days we spent together living with friends in Europe.
In February when we went to down to Oregon to visit the couple we lived with, the time we spent together in Europe was brought up between Danae and I while the guys ran into the store to grab some beers. We usually talk about the same things, the memories that stand out in our minds. We rarely talk about the trip we made to Trier, but instead talk about the night we spent drinking an enormous bottle of Lambrusco on the floor, or the morning I burnt the toast in the toaster oven. These are the things that stand out, and these are the things that I hope I remember forever. These were some of the best times in my life, and this is probably the reason I miss Europe so much.
I grew so much while I was in Europe. I grieved: I cried for my dad, I cried for my mom, and my brother, and then I cried for myself. Crying for yourself might be the hardest thing to do when there are so many other people to worry about. I screamed, and threw things (yes, I'm a thrower), and then I began to rebuild my life with Josh's help. I found that I could stand up without falling down to my knees, and I could make it through a whole day without crying.
I think Paris was a real turning point for me. I had been dreaming of Paris ever since I could remember, but even as we pulled into the train station in Paris I wasn't as excited as I thought I would be. Sure I was excited to be there, but I've always felt that once you lose someone in life a little piece of that joy and excitement you have over something is lost. That the person you lost should be sharing in the moment with you, and because they never will again, some of the excitement is gone. I get excited about things now, but that uncontrollable giddiness that you feel before a loss is gone, and I don't know if you ever feel pure bliss again. Is it bad to think that way? This is how I feel.
But Paris was beautiful, better than I could have imagined, and I decided upon getting out of the taxi that yes, I would live here in a heartbeat, among all this crazy mess of traffic, and I would revel in it, because Paris was glorious, Paris was sweet, Paris had something I needed. Those few days in Paris were amazing, and it took everything I had in me to get on the train to go home.
The shops were amazing, the streets, the monuments and buildings, they don't get any better than Europe. I felt like I was home. My only problem, neither of us knew the language.
So when Josh and I talk about going back to Europe he guarentees me that we won't be going until one of us knows how to speak French. He told me last night while we were in bed that he thinks the only way were are getting back there is if we somehow con one of our non-existant kids to go to Culinary School in Paris. He also reminds me that a child's love of cooking usually comes from it's mother, which brings the odds down for our kids alot because I in fact, do not love to cook. He told me I need to break the cycle, but I just don't think I can. Baking is another story. I said one of them could be a pastry chef, and that would be fine with me. Oh no, no, no. Apparently it's not okay with Josh. Besides 25 some odd years is too long to wait for Paris.
We need to win the lottery, or somehow make it rich. I guess I better start buying lottery tickets down at the gas station. I will be starting a bake sale soon to earn money for Paris, so if anyone would like to make a donation that would be wonderful. Until then, I am left with images of this sweet place.
photo by me:)
found via google
photo by me:)
Have a wonderful weekend!
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