I just got back from a hectic New York visit where, for the first time, I felt like a tourist. I don't know....maybe it was the guy who pushed me and yelled "GODDAMN TOURISTS!" but I have never felt like such a stranger in my former home. As I got off the bus and walked down 8th Ave. pushed from all sides, I couldn't help but think "maaaaan, you people need to CHILLLLAAAAAAX". For reals. Have some wine and a baguette, take a load off. I stood in Times Square looking up at the 42nd floor of the building I used to work in and it feels like it was a different person who worked there. One who doesn't eat sticks of butter and giant bowls of fromage blanc.
I did manage to do all my favorite things while there.....
THE SPAAAAAAAAA
THE MAAAAAAAALL
Teaching my nieces that louder is ALWAYS BETTER....
But in the end, I got back on a plane, thought "I'm going home" and smiled as I thought of Paris and my life here. It's taken two years but I'm finally starting to call it home. Chillaaaaaaaaaaaaaax, man. You're back in Fraaaaaance.
