Fin

It was with only the heaviest of hearts and the most abashed of expressions that I found myself in the cheese section of my local supermarket in suburban Philadelphia this afternoon.

Feeling surprisingly overwhelmed by the crazed American shoppers and their shrieking children I encountered during my first solo trip since my return to the States on Saturday, I decided to seek refuge within the comforting confines of imported Brie, Camembert, and St. Marcellin. After being told by my ATM machine this afternoon that it was now fully capable of completing transactions in French (a knife in the heart, really!) and then realizing disappointedly that I was unable to buy red wine to accompany the cheese I purchased, I was comforted only by the fact that I could text my friends from Paris without worrying about phone credit.

After a stressful day of travel on Saturday, involving a full-out sprint through Chicago's O'Hare airport (Why was I in Chicago, you ask? I asked the same thing...), I successfully returned home on Saturday evening, although my luggage didn't appear until Sunday afternoon. Leaving Paris was and still is very emotional – I think the Passport Control officer in Paris was confused when I was crying as he stamped my passport. There is something about the sound of a stamp that is so final. STAMP! GOODBYE!

The tour St. Jacques beneath a  stormy sky last week.

If I attempted to finish writing the “Things I Will Miss Most” list from the previous entry, I'm afraid I would become embarrassingly overwhelmed and unable to finish.

On a much brighter note, my last ten days in Paris were everything that I wanted them to be.

Last weekend, I found myself out at La Défense – the business district of Paris. It had been on my to-do list for ages and after having visited a Christmas market beneath the Eiffel tower, a few girls and I headed out to see yet another Christmas market. La Défense is beautiful in its own way. It is definitely a change from Paris, it has a totally different vibe and is successful in feeling completely business-y. There is an axis that goes from the Louvre, through the Tuileries Gardens, across Place de la Concorde, up the Champs Elysées, through the Arc de Triomphe, and finishes at the Arc at the Défense. Though it was dusk by the time we got there, we succeeded in capturing a decent view of the Arc de Triomphe at the very least.

La Défense

The same night, I cooked a delicious meal of moules frites with a good friend, and shared several bottles of wine with some more friends who came over later for a soirée – the epitome of French student life. After a Long Island iced tea and several jugs of sangria on the rue Oberkampf, I found myself being wheeled home in a shopping cart. It is nights like those that will stay with me forever, and remind me when I am old and assumedly boring that when I was 20 and in Paris, I had the time of my life.

The Boston University program required its students to submit a huge internship report of about 30 pages in total by the end of the program – and submit it I did, after much procrastination and many headaches. Finishing my internship was really quite bittersweet for me. On my last morning commute past the Eiffel Tower, I probably let a tear or two slip – so un-Parisienne, I know, but I could hardly help it. How did I get so lucky? Spending four months in Paris, working within sight of the Eiffel Tower and spending weekends with some of the most fantastic people I have ever encountered? You can see how it can be overwhelming.

My very last glimpse of the Eiffel Tower -- What perfect lighting.

Speaking of lucky, on last Wednesday night I found myself in the Napoleon room of the French Sénat at the Palais de Luxembourg, brushing shoulders with Senators, Ambassadors, and lawyers from around the world. My boss was lucky enough to receive the esteemed Légion d'Honneur on Wednesday, for her outstanding work in building Franco-Britannic relations both politically and in the legal world. For me, as an American student working at the law firm for only seven weeks, it was truly an incredible experience to have. I'll never forget it.

Paris was kind enough to grace us with a few blew skies among lots of snowy grey days last week.  I hadn't realized how gloomy the weather had been recently until a blue sky appeared one day.

Near metro Sèvres-Babylone

It seems to me as though the past four months were a dream; someone else's life that I was pretending to live. But now that I've had a taste of it, I'm hooked. I am glad to be home, happy to see my family and looking forward to sweet reunions with my friends. Nevertheless, the pull that Paris has had on me since my first visit has only strengthened. I realize that it's important for me to be here now, to finish my diploma and make some money and spend time with the people that I love here, but I realize as well that Paris isn't quite finished with me yet. The speed of life in Paris is different, and it suits me better. There's a rhythm about the city that I relate to, and I think it's this that pulls me strongest of all.

View of Sacre-Coeur from a métro window

I'm sad too to leave this blog. I don't know how many people read it, or enjoy it, and I'm sure there are more than a few people who read it and roll their eyes before navigating away from it as quickly as possible. But regardless of how many people have read it, and whether or not they've liked it, it has been an irreplaceable part of my Parisian experience. To record here over the past months, my ups and downs, my new experiences and lessons learned, has been invaluable. I know i'll look back on this blog (probably next week...) with nostalgia and a heavy heart. Though it will certainly make me wish my time in Paris could have lasted forever, it also will serve as motivation to return.

Christmas tree in the courtyard of my apartment building.

And now, one last order of business. I set out writing this blog to find the right words to capture Paris. Le mot juste is a French expression used to describe the exact word or phrase to describe something. More than a good method of description, le mot juste is a perfect combination of sound that captures the essence of whatever one is trying to convey. There are so many words I could use, both French and English, to attempt to pin down Paris and my time with it – with all its brilliance and beauty.

Unsatisfied to give a partially-perfect response (since that would not be le mot juste!), I can unfortunately not provide an answer at the end of my search. I suspect that Paris could never be reduced to one word, or even one phrase. For me, it is far too large to be reduced to a single description. Paris is an experience, and I am ravie to have shared this edition of my Parisian adventures with you. If you've been reading – thank you. It has been so nice to hear your kind words of encouragement.

Place de la Concorde

Fortunately for us, the French expression au revoir, so often mangled in the mouths of well-meaning Anglophones, translates more directly to “until next time” than to “goodbye.” And so I'll leave it quite simply at that – au revoir. xo

On Attempting to Enjoy This Moment

It feels like every single one of my blog entries carries a similar theme:  I can't believe time is moving so quickly - I am so sad to leave - I want to come back - I eat a lot of delicious food.  I read other students' travel blogs, and they also express comparable sentiments.  This all makes terribly dull blog-reading for you, my questionably-existent readers, and so I will try to veer away from these themes.  Try is the key word, as  I sense that I will probably not succeed...
Last weekend, determined to experience something new with my diminishing time in Paris, I traveled up to the flea market in the very northern neighborhood of Paris.  It took me a while to find the right spot, and I crossed under the Péripherique several times.  The northern neighborhoods of Paris feel so different from the central ones; they are ethnically vibrant and brimming with urban life in a way almost completely foreign to the rest of the city.  I enjoyed perusing the thousands upon thousands of tiny trinkets and they had to offer - and as a bonus, I was told that Jesus must have pulled the stars from the sky to put in my eyes.  Not a bad start to my day, which ended equally as successfully as I saw Harry Potter with some friends and then had a lovely dinner with my parents and younger sister.

I wish I had enough time to sort through even half of the stuff on offer!

It has snowed quite a few times since I last wrote, and it's been increasingly more gorgeous each time.  I was lucky enough to play hostess to one of my very best friends and college roommate this past week, and she in turn was lucky enough to see Paris in the snow!  Though this meant we were unable to climb the Eiffel, it did result in several hilarious photographs which will serve as glorious reminders of the time we were twenty years old and gallivanting around Paris together.  Today was the snowiest day of all, I think we probably accumulated three or four inches in places!  I laughed to myself as I walked home, observing the Parisians attempting to avoid icy patches is pretty amusing.  Parisians generally look like they could never lose their cool, but ice pushes them dangerously close to it!

Such grace

Slushy Parisian streets

This week is my second-to-last week at work.  Seven weeks is such a relatively short amount of time to be working somewhere - I feel as though I'm just settling in, and now it's time to leave!  The experience is still great though, I don't regret choosing the internship program for a moment.  I'll be oh so glad to return to my normal schedule next semester, however, where the earliest wake up call is 9am and the concept of class on Fridays remains foreign to me.  I got some great news this week -- my three closest friends and I have succesfully landed an on-campus apartment ... In the same building as our friends who remained on campus this semester!  The chances of us even getting an apartment together were slim, but to be placed on the same floor as the rest of the girls was a one-in-a-million.  Thank you, Villanova ResLife, for pulling through finally.  
I'm allowing myself to think of things I'm looking forward to about home.  Such as seeing my sister, who at this very moment is flying home from South Africa; living within a quarter mile radius of my nine closest friends comes in a close second; my birthday, which is just over a month away, will also help to ease any post-Paris depression I expect to battle.  Thinking about these things make leaving a bit easier, but I try not to focus on them.  Instead, for now, I want to focus on enjoying the things I will miss most.  These include, but are not limited to:




– Warm pain au chocolats that make my frosty early morning commute more bearable.

–  Spotting the Eiffel tower around street corners and peeking from behind gorgeous apartment buildings.

–  The truly bizarre and inexplicable events I come across from time to time, such musicians dressed in orange which I stumbled upon outside the Opéra Garnier.

–  My host parents' endearing bewilderment at my habitual fried egg on toast each morning (as they are content with their bowls of tea)
–  These delicious cocktails from my favorite bar, whose name I will never disclose.  If you are lucky enough to be in Paris, stumbling upon it yourself is half the fun.

–  Greeting my friends... and friends-of-friends... and friends-of-friends-of-friends... with kisses (Even if you don't speak French, watch this video!  It's cute and funny!)

–  The cheery bonjour, et bonne journée! that follows me each day to work from the woman who lives outside the Franprix on my corner.

I expect my next entry will include more of this list, because things pop into my head every moment of every day.  Upon receiving an e-mail from the BU Program coordinator about end-of-semester procedures and general leaving Paris information, I actually caught myself shedding a tear or two.  It's not time to cry yet, though.  Now it's time to enjoy my last remaining ten days.  Sleep, after tonight, is not a priority at the moment.  Instead, I'm intent on using every possible moment to take in the glorious sights and smells of this incredible city.  It is, of course, obvious -- but I only get to be a student in Paris once!  I want to enjoy every single one of my remaining moments of what has been one of the most incredible and life-changing undertakings. Generally, people save the best for last.  Let's see if Paris will do the same.  xo

Come on with the rain, I've a smile on my face!

Sitting there, alone in a foreign country, far from my job and everyone I know, a feeling came over me. It was like remembering something I'd never known before  or had always been waiting for, but I didn't know what. Maybe it was something I'd forgotten  or something I've been missing all my life. All I can say is that I felt, at the same time, joy and sadness.  But not too much sadness, because I felt alive. Yes, alive.  That was the moment I fell in love with Paris. And I felt Paris fall in love with me.  - Paris, Je t'aime

I can't tell you how many times I've started blog entries over the past ten days without finishing them.  Sometimes, I've simply uploaded a photo, saved the entry ... And promptly discarded it.  The truth is, I am a little short on words at the moment.  For someone keeping a blog entitled Cherchant le Mot Juste, I'm not doing a terrific job of it.  Paris leaves me speechless, that's all.  
After two months of living here, I am still in awe of everything that I encounter in this incredible city.  Today I sat at a café near my school, eating a pain au chocolat and drinking a petit café.  Even the most mundane activity, such as sitting at a café and people watching during some precious free time, fills me with the utmost pleasure.  Despite my best efforts to look and act parisienne most of the time, I can't help but smile when I see a man walking by eating a baguette that's tucked under his arm... Followed by a woman chewing a croissant and smoking a cigarette ... Followed by a child with chocolate smeared all over his happy little French face.  Scenes like these are what I will miss most.
Perhaps I'm wrong about that though.  Perhaps what I'll miss most is turning off my computer every night, bidding bon soirée to my coworker and to my boss, and turning the corner away from my office to the banks of the Seine, the sparkling lights of the Eiffel Tower catching my eye as I rush to board the metro.  I pinch myself during moments like these, which occur more frequently than I can believe.

My rainy walk home from work on Monday night.

It's time to admit to something here.  It is cliché and silly, and it's almost impossible to describe.  The few sentences from Paris, Je t'aime with which I began this entry are the most applicable I can think of, and the closest I can come to capturing the feeling I've had lately.  To be brief, all I know is that the feeling that I have while I'm here is not one that can be found in the Streets of Philadelphia,  as wonderful and comforting as they are.  I'm not finished with Paris yet, and my remaining thirty-two days won't change that sentiment-- I'm certain.  Taking a walk around the very wet, very rainy, and very very windy Luxembourg Gardens the other day, my heart swelled.  Even at its worst, Paris is the best.  Little pieces of history and art are everywhere in Paris, and a little (or a lot) of rain can't detract from the incredible value of stumbling upon these moments.

Just outside my apartment on one particularly blustery morning, the Canal St.Martin.

Tuileries Gardens

Palais du Luxembourg, the seat of the Senate

Enough dreamy reflection.  I was fortunate enough to have a wonderful visit from my mother this past weekend.  A seasoned Parisian tourist, she was content to sit on café sidewalks and walk through the rainy streets for as long as it took for us to catch up.  There are some things that Paris doesn't offer me, and the comforts of home and family make up a huge portion of that.  We talked, we ate, and we ate.  It was so nice to see her in real life, rather than the rather grainy Skype-y image that I've become so used to.

Quelle parisienne!

Windy rainy day outside the Louvre.

As you may have guessed from the rain in every single picture posted, the weather in Paris has been atrocious-  Today was the first time it was really sunny in more than eight days.  My mother was a trooper however, like the true Irishwoman she is she braved the horrible rainy wind all the way from the Louvre to the Arc de Triomphe.  Bravo, maman.  She is now nestled away at our house in the Loire valley, where she will shortly be joined by her sister, and then my sister next week.

Speaking of my sister, my fabulous ginger-haired seventeen year old sister is coming to paris oh-so-soon!  Finished with her college applications (I have never felt more old), she arrives in Paris on Saturday morning.  I am so excited to be silly with her like only sisters can, though I know that we will both be missing our older sister Sinéad.  Sinéad returns home from South Africa in a matter of weeks, which is incredible since she's been there for the year.   Seeing Megan this weekend will make me a million times more excited for Christmas, when all five members of my family will be together again at last (aw).

My job, incidentally, is fabulous.  It is a dream come true.  I'm getting some really great experience, I'm speaking French, and I can see the Eiffel tower from the office window.  The work can be really challenging, but my boss is really kind and eager to help me-- you'll be glad to hear I'm not stuck in a Devil-Wears-Prada-boss-from-hell scenario.   Though she probably does wear Prada.  After two weeks at work, my fingers are thoroughly confused, as they are now bilingual and can use French OR American keyboards ... They just can't really keep them straight.  There is only one other girl in the office with me, and she has been so friendly and kind to me.  She even invited me to a soirée at her friends' apartment last week!  It was a fantastic night, and though I was by far the youngest, with the closest in age being 28, her friends were incredibly warm and welcoming.  It was a night I won't soon forget.  

With visits from my nearest and dearest coming from the States, Europe, and even from Africa over the next 5 weeks, I know that time will fly.  But I know also that no matter how quickly or slowly time goes, I will still board that plane in 32 days feeling like a piece of me is staying behind.  And do you know what the very best part about that is, mes chers amis? That only means that I will have to come back to retrieve it, some day. xo

The Big Day

And, I'm off!  I'm currently sitting in Au Bon Pain (a poor substitute for a French cafe) in Philadelphia International Airport, sipping some cheap burnt coffee and taking advantage of free wifi.  My trip has begun, and though this seems an unexceptional start, I'm just glad to report that my bags have been accepted despite their bulging at the seams.

My last week at home was everything I'd hoped it might be.  The weekend at Villanova was a successful one, despite uncomfortable time spent sleeping on the hard floor while my friends reclined in their fabulously decorated bedrooms.  To their credit, I was offered their beds each morning as the Orientation Zombies formerly known as my friends headed off to enthuse the freshmen.  When all is said and done, however, I'm positively green with envy now that I've seen my their apartments... I will add it to my list of things to look forward to in January.  Thanks to Skype, Villanova will never feel too far away.  Even my close friend Elka, who is spending the next four months in Ghana, is now bringing her laptop and will be only a phone call away.  There are times when globalization really rules.

Among the other small pleasures of my week was receiving a thoughtful and fabulously decorated card in the mail from my older sister.  During her time spent in South Africa, she's picked up card creation as a new hobby, and I have to admit she is pretty good, don't you agree?

I'll see what I can do about acquiring a red beret...

My Dad and I attempted to make gnocchi at home on Tuesday night.  For a first attempt, it was not as bad as it might have been.  If we had only followed the recipe rather than assuming that we knew everything there is to know about gnocchi making, I'm certain it would have turned out better.  That is the price one pays for being ridiculously stubborn... and for having a ridiculously stubborn Dad.  Mum and Megan were good sports, however, and after we smothered the failed gnocchi in cheese and baked it in the oven, it was really pretty tasty.  I look forward to sampling the perfected version in December.  (Hint hint, Dad)

As far as I'm concerned, anything baked with cheese can't really be so bad.

Thursday night Megan and I spent some quality sister time together, watching the silly tearjerker Dear John and the last four episodes of Sex and the City.  Dear John was really cheesy but managed to coax many tears form us both nonetheless, and Sex and the City only convinced me that I will never act as foolishly as Carrie Bradshaw does upon arriving in Paris.  I mean, the woman wore a flouncy skirt and high heels on the plane.   ... Really?  I can assure you that I don't resemble Carrie Bradshaw in the least right now, as I've opted for a baggy t shirt and leggings.  How terribly chic.


My last dinner at home was delicious.  Mum asked if I had special requests, and of course I did.  Luckily for her, I wanted something simple and tasty-- Trader Joe's Israeli cous cous and roasted veggies.  It was so delicious, and my evening was sweetened by a last trip to the Yardley Ice House with Meg.  Add Small Mint Chocolate Chip Water Ice to the Things I Will Miss Most list.

Why would I order anything else, when this is done so well?

Breakfast this morning: a homemade cappuccino and a luminous Bagel Train breakfast sandwich.

This little babe came running to me today, ready to say her goodbyes.
She either knew I was leaving, or she just thought I was going to feed her...

Teary goodbyes have been said at the security line, and I am now officially on my way.  I feel a little nauseous but very excited to see what the next four months will hold for me.  Before that reveals itself, however, I have to successfully find my connecting plane at Montreal Airport (thank you, AirMiles, for always being so convenient...), kill five hours in Canada, and then figure out how to cart a huge sixty-something pound suitcase from Charles de Gaulle Airport to Place de la République.  If I can manage that, the next few months will be un morceau de gâteau.  Stay tuned!

Things I Will Miss Most

It's hard to believe that after years of dreaming about packing up and going to Paris, I'll be doing so in only nine days.  Since my first visit to Paris on a family vacation, when my bespectacled and painfully awkward self gaped at the Eiffel Tower and chowed down on pains au chocolat galore, I've fantasized about spending an extended period of time in the City of Light.


Thanks to  Boston University, I'm about to do so.  From August 29 to December 18 I'll be living on the rive droite in the home of a French couple, with their cat Pilou (!!) and another American student.  I've got to be honest, I couldn't have gotten luckier.  When my sister Sinead and I spent time in Paris last summer, we stayed literally one street away from the apartment, so I know precisely where it is... Though, with my winning sense of direction it's entirely possible and probable that I'll get lost on more than one occasion.


As the departure date draws ever nearer, and my excitement grows exponentially, I have to say I find myself stuck in moments of anxiety sometimes.  How will I survive without Mum's yummy (and vegetarian!) meals every day?  What if Pilou is mean and doesn't like to snuggle like my cat Lily does?  How am I supposed to keep track of my budget, my meals, my schoolwork?  I've had trouble sleeping lately, because my mind is always racing... Just when I think I've calmed myself down, something else will pop up!  (Will I find time to listen to Podcasts of all my favorite NPR shows?!)


Aside from these petty concerns, there are larger things about which I worry as well.  Though my French is adequate, my traveling skills have been honed over several years, and I'm not afraid of eating snails... I find myself returning to the ever-approaching moment, the instant that I step off the plane and realize "I am in France, and I am by myself."  I almost get chills thinking about it now, and my stomach fills with papillons at the thought.

Almost drowning in lists of To-Dos, Things To Pack, Things To Remember... I've found it much more enjoyable to make a different type of list:  Things I Will Miss Most (in no particular order).

My wonderful family, soon to be scattered across three continents,
pictured here visiting my sister in South Africa. 

My happy pink yoga mat, which has kept me so balanced over the past year.

My fat but loveable cat, Lily, and her friendly nuzzling and tiny meows.

I have a trip to Villanova in store for this weekend, and though I look forward to spending time with friends, I'm sure that my good-bye to them and to the Villanova campus on Monday won't be easy.  It's strange to think I won't be back there 'til January!  I'm excited, though.  I'm twenty years old and I've been handed the chance to once more, begin anew.  Things won't always be easy, but I intend to remind myself continuously that this opportunity is, as they say, once-in-a-lifetime.  For now, however, the heaps of clothes and miscellaneous items invading my bedroom are begging to be dealt with.  

P.S.  I'm asking for your patience with this blog... Declaring an English major doesn't automatically endow one with flawless writing skills, and travel writing is a new frontier for me.  I won't always know how or what to write, but I hope you'll bear with me as I seek the right words.