This is the view from my front door. Every time I leave the house, I look up at what I'm fairly certain is the Eiffel Tower, and swallow a laugh because I can't believe that I'm in Paris. That I get to live in Paris.
If it weren't such a cliche, I'd write that I'm falling in love with this city. (I think I might just be falling in love with this city anyway.) It seems like everywhere I turn there's another building that takes my breath away, an immaculate garden or a bakery window to stop and drool over. My father wrote me an email last week saying that whenever he mentions Paris, people sigh and get a faraway look in their eyes.
I get to live in that faraway look.
Is it OK that I'm weeping with jealousy?
ReplyDeleteyou'll find that the French have been very French for a long time...they've figured out how to live up to the cliches
ReplyDeleteI still feel the same after living in Edinburgh for more than four years. It's just one of those cities that captures people's imaginations. And I love it. Still, Paris would be nice...
ReplyDelete*Sigh*