Paris, Je T'Aime.

Here I am. Its 8:24am, and I am sitting at the gate waiting to board my plane back to the grand ol’ U S of A. Kate woke up with me at 5:00 this morning and walked me back to my apartment to help me bring my luggage down, say goodbye, and load up the cab. I definitely won’t miss the expensive cabs. He started charging me the second I arrived. Kate’s and my plans worked brilliantly. We figured if I slept over and we woke up at 5am to say goodbye, we’d be too tired to notice the fact that I was leaving. Success! I made up for it with tears in the cab home and if I could shoot fire from my glare, the passport control man is singed after stamping my passport and saying “au revoir!” with a smile. Not au revoir! Don’t wish me a bon voyage! I’d rather no voyage! I’m sitting at the gate now with my last croissant, tired and clearly in a vile mood (sorry for the ranting!) and looking through my pictures from the semester.

Getting through security was symbolic, to say the least. I knew 1 bag was overweight, but the second one was not! I loaded up my carry on to weigh more than I did, but figured it’d save a lot of money. I also had no room for my many coats so yes, indeed, I am wearing a fleece, a pea-coat, and my down long coat. The plan was to carry my duffel and very-XXL-purse on with my coats, which I’d hide inside each other, which would hide my little purse, and I’d buy a magazine to get a duty-free so I could carry on my mugs. FAIL. Epic Fail. They said at check-on that my computer made my carry-on weight too heavy, and my plan to put allllllll my books in my carry-on duffel gave me a total of 25 kilos worth of carryon. Its all beacsue I insist on only reading books in French right now, to keep current on the language, so its filled to the top with Voltaire, Flaubert, Balzac, Harry Potter (in French), Hugo, and Camus. Who knew that when they said a carry-on and personal item that was code for 18kilos of carryon per person, no matter how it works out! I sure didn’t. They offered me to take a later flight today and pay me $600, which would cancel out the cost of all the baggage (and hey! I’m all for making a profit too!) but Dad said there was too great a risk of disaster. Not that I’d mind being stranded here…plan foiled again! I made it, though, 3 checked bags and an overweight cost later. Woops. Sorry mom and dad…I hope my presents for you make you forget allll about this mess!

I think its fair to say that though New York might be the greatest city in the world, I found myself in Paris. I left thinking I was an adult, and I’m returning unsure of what it means to be a grown-up. Is it whether or not you deal with a landlady and pay bills? Is it the ability to do things by yourself? Wearing lipstick instead of gloss? Because I’ve been there. But I’ve also learned how much I don’t know, how big the world is, and how much I still have to experience. I’ve learned to forgive people, and accept things out of my control. Most importantly, my experience here has shown me who I can be and who I want to be. I didn’t know that self-respect and loyalty for others is not mutually exclusive. Perhaps that is the key to the person that I am coming back as. I hope she sticks around, because I quite like the new feeling of empowerment.

I’m going to buy January’s Vogue and guess what. 10 minutes until boarding. My tears have already allowed me to make some very nice new French friends who are going to visit New York (Hillary-style, some things can’t ever change). We’ve already exchanged numbers because:

If I can’t stay in Paris, then I’m bringing her with me. How? It’s simple! We’ll always have Paris.