It's kind of silly to be leaving Paris in a week, after living here for 4 months.
You know, it takes you that long to find the Muesli with the highest deliciousness-to-price ratio, to find a bar where you feel comfortable enough staying after your American friends have left because you're tu-toi-ing everyone in the place and making friends, to really learn the bike paths and traffic patterns, to start making French friends-- people whose faces have a noticeable change in expression when they find out you've only got a week left. It took that long for the sun to come out and make this city a million times more beautiful, I swear it even warmed up the Parisians. It took that long to accept and pursue my interest in catchy French reggae, to borrow 3 Tryo CDs from my coworker. It took that long to come up with the best response to criticism of the U.S.-- "Ecoutes, vous êtes entraîne d'avoir Sarkozy comme présidente, et s'il avait le même puissance que Bush ça ne serait pas trop différent."
So, now here I am, trying to figure out what I'm going to do with my hairdryer and my basil plant.