Paris: the city of lights. Home to the Eiffel Tower, L’Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, and in 24 hours, myself.
In just a few hours, I will board a flight to Paris that should last approximately 9 hours and 25 minutes and there is no turning back. For the next three and a half months, Paris will be my home.
Nine and a half hours seems like an eternity, especially when one is sitting in the same place the whole time, but luckily long flights don’t bother me. Since I was one month old I have been taveling by airplane. From my birthplace in Knoxville, Tennessee, to the glamour of Hollywood, to the historic grounds of Philadelphia, and now to the hot, hot, heat of Houston, traveling has been a signature of my childhood.
But right now I’m sitting on the couch, my laptop resting on my lap, with two huge suitcases nicely packed, and the TV glaring in front of me. But tomorrow, from this very same laptop, the view will be slightly different. Maybe I will be sitting in a cafe enjoying a nice cafe au lait, or maybe from the view out of my hotel window I will be able to see the Eiffel Tower in all of its beauty. Either way, tomorrow, Paris is my home.
Au revoir Houston.