Moon River

I am not a very cultured person.

I can't appreciate art, I prefer ranch dressing and vegetables over any foreign fare, and before this trip, my travels consisted mostly of excursions only to various tropical islands.

For the past six or seven weeks, though, I've been battling this. I've tried not to be more excited about the fact that i knew which bridge Liam Nieson jumped off of to rescue his "daughter" than I was about stepping foot into a thousand year old tomb…I tried not to order fries and a club sandwich whenever I went to lunch….and I tried to speak french to waiters- even when I knew they'd understand english. Honestly, I think I've been doing pretty well.

Today, though, my lack of culture came back with a vengeance. Yes, I have been to the lourve. It was nice. I see the eiffel tower every day. Very pretty. I've strolled down the same streets as Hemingway and I've sat in cafe's historically frequented by artists that line the walls of museums. And I can appreciate that.

But today…today, I REALLY saw it all.

I was walking back from campus and got lost (shock) only to find myself on a bridge over the seine, headed towards a huge building with a big gold, circular tower. I glanced up and breathed a sigh of relief: the building was familiar, I would be home soon.

After a few more paces, though, it came to me in a wave of embarrassment. Yes, I had seen the building before…but not in real life. No, there I was, standing on the very bridge on which the greatest scene in the FINAL episode of Sex and the City took place.

sidenote::(If you are a true fan, you will now understand the song title I chose for this blog- from the episode that the quoted line of this entry is in)

I'll be honest- I stopped. On a scale of seeing the eiffel tower to jumping into the great barrier reef…this was a ten in my book. If you know me at all, you know that I can literally recite every line of every episode of that show (no, I'm not bragging. yes, i realize this is overwhelmingly pathetic)

I stood there- now facing away from the big building (which probably holds some historical significance) and could picture the scene happening right in front of me.

Really, I laughed at the stupidity of it all…sometimes it takes something as simple as that for you to realize just where you are- and just how lucky you are to be there.

No, I didn't have a Mr. Big to come to wrap me in a long peacoat and take me home. And like Carrie, my Miranda, Charlotte, and Samantha weren't there to walk back home with me.

But that was okay.

In the past seven weeks, I have done something that I have never had to do: completely started over. Even going into college, I had people I already knew, and I was never more than an hour long flight from home. When I came to Paris, I was taking a risk. Now, I'm a "regular" at the cafe at the end of my street. I can walk into The Moose on Friday (and usually saturday and thursday…and sometimes sunday) nights and say hi to Charlie and Dotan, the bartenders. Melanie and I have frequented our fair share of historical locations and alone, I have become a master at navigating this city. I have developed a whole life here: new people, new places- new everything. It just took awhile for me to be okay with that. I am now living a new season, a new chapter, of my life.

And as "Carrie" once said in my absolute favorite episode, sauntering down park avenue in a beautiful pink and gold coat and a pair of destroyed Louboutin's from the night before-

People come into your life-and people go. But its comforting to know the ones you love are always in your heart- and if you're very lucky, a plane ride away.

I, it seems, am very lucky.