When in Paris

I think it's safe now to say that I've made it. I'm finally installed here in the City of Lights. After only two weeks (or just shy of two weeks) I have seen and done things I previously read about in books and learned about in the safety of a classroom. Here in Paris, the city is my real tutor, and there is no grading system. To succeed is to survive the day without falling prey to the many tourist traps and faux-pas that we Americans create for ourselves while abroad.

So maybe I have fallen into the traps. That's what keeps me coming back to the same place for my lunches everyday, what makes me repeat after my hostess when she tells me the correct way to say a sentence or phrase in French, and most importantly what makes me want to step outside the front door to this apartment building each day.

I don't want this semester to be just another learning experience or just something I did to put on my resume. That's what people did in high school because the teachers told us we had to do that to get into college. This semester is a gateway to new frontiers. If I'm going to live on my own after college, now is the time to test my wings. I apologize for the copious cliches in this one post, but bear with me.

I'm searching for what to say here to get these thoughts out in the open. The best I can do is to say that I want this term to be about being stretched to the point of breaking and then discovering a set of elastic arms. I'm only human, but there is mo sense in living like my life is just mine.

When in Paris, don't do what the Parisians do. Maybe observe and take the time to understand it. That will be the sort of thing you take with you. But don't forget where you came from and what you may have waiting for you when you go back.