Two months in and I’m beginning to feel like Paris is my home.
Instead of eating ramen, I cook myself meals. I have good friends that I routinely do things with. I found a church to go to. I have a favorite café. I eat a croissant pretty much every day. I can ride the metro with my eyes closed (and often do, when I have a class early in the morning). I sit in parks and watch people. I give mostly correct directions to tourists. I figured out how to turn on the heater in my apartment.
Most importantly, I love it here.
But maybe I am just feeling in the Christmas spirit. For being so proud of their secularism, France sure does love Christmas.
I have already been to the Christmas market on the Champs-Elysées twice since it opened this weekend, and I’m sure I will go many more times to eat crêpes, drink vin chaud, go ice skating, and maybe even go on the Ferris Wheel at Place de la Concorde.
Today I went to a food photography competition shown in the Carrousel du Louvre with my friend Molly. My favorite photo was this gem, taken by photographer Patrick Rougereau:
After a quick bite to eat at the Christmas market, I headed to church where I met up with Judy. Afterwards we had a café crême and banana bread at 10 Belles. We sat in the balcony and observed the barista (who is not unattractive if you know what I mean) as he delicately made coffees for the bustling crowd the café attracts. We both agreed it was a lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon and decided that it could become a regular happening.
Now I am sitting here writing this instead of doing homework. The curse of Sunday night is procrastination. Monday approaches too quickly, but I feel happy with my weekend and with what’s coming up this week.