To say I’m nervous about Paris’s partial reopening/un-confining tomorrow May 19, is an oversimplification. I’m extremely excited, pumped, relieved, excited again. I really want to be able to buy some objects in person, look at some arts, or sit at a table when I grab lunch with friends instead of on the ground at a park. But, I’m also nervous.
Hear me out: French Airbnb hosts sometimes come across like desperate animated candlesticks. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it’s just different.
It’s been 7-ish weeks of quarantine, folks. That’s 147 French meals, some of which featured food I never knew existed.
You merely adopted the isolation. I was born in it, molded by it.
Make sure your documents are super fresh.
French weddings are 83% better than American weddings. Except for the jars.
I feel guilty for writing about myself. If my writing entertains you, it might be worth the guilt.