After a nice eight days in gai Paris, I am finally returned home. The trip itself was wild. What happens in Paris stays in Paris, yes? With that said, the most I am willing to divulge is my new tan (which was rather serendipitous in attainment).
Honestly, I almost stayed, in lieu of returning home. I found it hard to leave something that is so magical and liberal. The French are everything Americans are not. They are bold and understanding. At the same time, however, we, as Americans are more outgoing in our convictions, which is a virtue, also. In the end, though, I decided that I had to return home. Home is where the heart is, after all. My heart will always be in the land that bore me: America.
I am still suffering some touches of jet lag. I am usually good about getting over it quickly. Give me a few hours of sleep in the middle of the day and I am fine. That is when I am going ahead in time, of course. When I arrived in France, I had to catch up six hours. Now, I am slowing down to be caught up by the time deficiency. In fact, it is still one a.m. in my mind. I should be asleep, perhaps. By tomorrow, I prophecy, that I will be as good as gold.
All-in-all, it was a bon journée.
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