Response to Last Night

I am a lucky, lucky girl. I walk through this house and cannot help but to smile wildly. It is a beautiful house full of history and adventures and beauty. I look out any window and there is a gorgeous view of paradise; the storm last night cleared away all the haze so I can see as far as Nice (save for the few patches now covered from the thick smoke of yet another forest fire). I am so happy here, even though sometimes I forget it.

This morning I woke up with a hangover of sadness. My disappointing evening stuck with me like a headache of loneliness and left a bad taste in my mouth. But as the day progressed, I felt better. Talking to moms always help a hurting heart. I certainly miss home, but I don’t mean that to be confused with being homesick. I am not homesick. I miss my family and having old friends and good people, but I don’t miss Boston, Mendon, or anywhere else in the United States. I love it here, I just wish this were home. I wish I had friends who didn’t want to get in my pants, I wish I had some girls to retreat to after a terrible day, I wish their were people whose arms I could cry in if need be.



Sara and her friends are really very kind. They invite me everywhere and ask me to join them at meals or visit the crique with them. I never do, but I am grateful they ask.

All in all, I am living my dream and that’s all that matters. I have a scooter and am looking for a job. I speak the language much better than I give myself credit for. I’ve learned the fashion and bits of the culture; I know how to turn heads wherever I go with a look of admiration and intrigue rather than a look of disdain and humor.