The weather in New York sucks. There are snow piles taller than most adults. I've been nursing a cup of hot chocolate, incapable of making it anywhere because the MTA sucks balls and I have no idea where under the mountain of snow in front of my house is my car. Mother Nature you are one selfish and contemptous cunt. Yeah I said it. Let's just make sure this shit changes in time for my birthday or we're going to have serious problems. So since I've been stuck at home, I've been reading books (The Wind Up Bird Chronicle and The Hunger Games trilogy), watching movies (Dr. Strangelove and Being There. Love Peter Sellers!) and looking at old albums.
I've rediscovered these pictures taken from my semester abroad in Paris and I've realized how much I want to go back. Not just to Paris but to that time in general. It was the most carefree I've ever been. I didn't have to work, I had the easiest classes ever and I lived in the most beautiful city in the world. My days of leisure started out at a cafe ordering my pain chocolat and my nights ended with me running for the metro or searching for the night bus. Even though there were times when I hated it, I have the most intense desire to relive it. Especially cause life isn't as carefree now.
Sure I missed my friends and family but I built myself a new love nest. I had a french mom and sister, who I love so much. My friends were the best and we would travel practically every weekend and have extraordinary adventures. Its strange how four months of a year can change the course for the remainder of your life. I want to go back. I want to get cheap shots at Frog and Princess. I want to watch everyone wired on ecstasy at Maison. I want to dance all night at Duplex. I want my weekly wine nights back. Sure I could do without the racism and cigarette smoke, but even in France the smoke smells so much better. There are a shitload of stories I could tell you (and believe me, I intend to), but for now I just want to go back to the nights that we never wanted to end.