Regardless of both my disgust and mistrust with both the noun and verb form of "blog," I never intended to take a blogging hiatus. It just happened. It was work and it was a vacation that was off the grid, and it's all this packing and planning...
Planning for something kind of huge. Something I'm a bit in denial over.
And it starts with Paris.
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| Some girl in Paris or something. |
Due to a rather severe Romeo and Juliet complex, I almost got married when I was 18. Nuts, right? I had very wise parents who loved me very much so they bribed helped convince me to wait. They said if I waited one year, they would send me to France.
Well... I just turned 30 and I am neither married nor have I been to France. So I'm going. On my own dime and just for a few days, but it feels good to finally go.
And that former fiancé of mine? We are now absolutely 100 percent super-supportive fixtures of stability in one another's lives.
Just kidding; he's the worst.
Paris!
I burn with jealousy.
ReplyDeleteClearly your parents owe you a trip to France, but I'm pretty sure you've got a decade of interest in there that equates to Spain and Portugal. Sneaky tricks into good decisions is totally not enough! :)
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