20 days prior

i have been in France for 20 days!
including epic holidays: Groundhog Day and Valentine's Day.

according to my 2009-2010 walking guide of Paris, i have strolled
the Village Paris, Glamorous Paris, Timeless Paris, Artists' Paris,
Monumental Paris, Mythical Paris...i've done well for myself.
although i have yet to conquer Cosmopolitan Paris,
boat tour on the River Seine,
the all too fantastical Musée Du Louvre,
and locate the chocolate behind the doors of Debauve & Gallais
(the oldest chocolatier in Paris, opened in 1800, who made delicate
treats for the Kings of France, m*tha f*ckas!)

i have mastered the Metro.

not nearly eaten my weight in snails (there's time for that, for sure).

drank the champagne that was sent over from the table of regulars
at the late night cafe in Vanves...the 2 bottles of champagne, no less.

ate off of the plate, off of the fork, of Cristof, on the Boulevard de Clichy,
across from the Moulin Rouge. drank his wine, smoked his cigarette,
and know he is part of the development department for a large,
successful, energy conservation corporation. he also plays squash.

i want to eat a baguette every morning.
i want it with an espresso.
i want soupe d' oignon for a midday warm-up.
i want the truffles from Jeff de Bruges on Rue Lepic.
i want snails, snails, and more escargot.
i want to speak more French.
i want to hug my cousin everyday.
i want to stare under the gold skirt of the Eiffel Tower.
i want a crépe of nutella, banana, and almond from
that one guy on that one corner.
i want to kiss as that heart shaped balloon floats by the Sacre Coeur.
i want to keep cheering for the French in the Winter Olympics.

i want to keep waking up
to hear a language i do not follow,
and smile
the smile
i smiled
out of the terminal,
and into Paris,
20 days prior.

namaste, little escargot i have yet to devour.