Pre-departure: La vie est dure.

Getting some R&R in SF before disengaging with America on Thursday.  Like any other student standing on the threshold of going abroad, I am, on cue, convulsing through cycles of nervous anxious excitement.  Living and learning in Paris, which is in France, which is connected to an entirely different continent than the U S of A, and has been romanticized and elevated into the upper echelons of coolness countless times over, should understandably leave me as giddy as a fairytale princess riding gloriously into the sunset.

Instead I've had a good week back in reality, and seem to have plenty of good reasons to nix my flight to Europe.  But despite the current plane ticket mixup, and my pathetic attempts at fighting phlegm and chest colds, this is why I'm going to make it on British Airways flight 0286: you!

To all of you who stumble upon this page between now and January 22nd, thanks for your concern and interest.  It is not only me who needs Paris, but Paris who needs me to showcase her grungy, fractured, and not-so-chic side to the rest of the world.  Fuck the berets, fuck the Eiffle Tower, it's gonna be a blackout in the City of Lights.  My only hope is that I can salvage an epic tale or two, maybe immortalize them in a few photos, and do y'all proud.

Catcha on the flip side.