stars in the morning, make me feel like a girl in a fantasy, turn to real life

(shiny toy guns, “turn to real life”, off We are Pilots)

Did I mention I am going to Paris?

I might have mentioned that a couple times.

I haven’t talked about it much because then I would get too excited and wouldn’t be able to contain myself for the next 14 weeks until I fly out.

I’m going with the same crew I went to New Orleans with a year ago – or rather, meeting them there. They’re going to Amsterdam first, and I’ll be staying on my own (which is what happens when you don’t confirm you can go on the trip until the rented apartment is full)

So I’ve been researching maps, hotels, neighborhoods for the last few days. I’ve been looking at photos and searching for goth clubs. And I may not be able to contain myself after all.

However, I do not want to be a Fat American Tourist when I go. The trauma of growing up in a tourist trap (Victoria BC – Little England) has given me a horror of being such. Therefore, my goals this spring are both geared towards that:

1. getting back to the size ten I was when I moved to Los Angeles
2. taking French classes with the Alliance Francais

I start advanced conversational French on Saturday (and let’s hope that those years of advanced high school French are still buried in my brain), and I lost three pounds of actual fat at some point in the last week. Steps and action taken. Done.

Now, I just have to keep from eating white flour and sugar for fourteen weeks. However, the chant of “I will not be a fat American in Paris,” is pretty damn effective at keeping food out of my mouth, and keeping my ass at the gym.

I have dreamed of going to Paris most of my life. I can’t wait for this journey to finally happen.

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