Saturday, May 9, 2009

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.


  1. Is it OK that I'm weeping with jealousy?

  2. you'll find that the French have been very French for a long time...they've figured out how to live up to the cliches

  3. I 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...