Sleepypants

I kinda miss a lot of stuff about France. I'm sure the people around me are getting way-sick of hearing about little Parisian things every so often. But I can't help it—I gave that city four months of my life. While this really isn't a huge amount of time in the grand scheme of things, it seems that way at times. I'm glad to be back, but every now and then, my brain defaults to thought such as, "What's Chloe up doing tonight?" or "We should go back to Tribeca this weekend" or "Oh my goodness I need pistache Ladurée macaron right NOW."

I do not miss my 7 flights of stairs. Or that damn turnstile they installed at Parsons Paris to track our attendance.

I still feel a little at-odds with things back home. Most of my studio mates seem to have gotten considerably closer since I left. I can't relate to any of their experiences last semester. I know, I know, this is what happens when you leave, things change, people change, blah blah blah. That doesn't mean that I like it. I know it's my own fault for leaving. I'm glad I did it—I got to do some pretty cool things and meet some pretty sweet people. I would do it over, despite all the things that weren't so awesome. I guess I'm still just adjusting to the things that have changed in four months (which is kinda lame. I mean, come on. I've been back for like a month).