I have to admit, I've been slacking on my writing lately. For someone who calls themselves a writer, I've been neglecting the one thing that makes me who I am. In an attempt to make a small resolution, I decided that the arrival of October marks a new leaf I am about to turn over. If you didn't catch the change of season pun -- don't worry, the execution was poor on my part. But in all seriousness, October is the beginning of the time of the year that makes this girl all kinds of stupid, annoying happy.
Even when I lived in Florida, where change of seasons don't tend to exist, I still reveled in the moments of a crisp, autumn breeze and the scents of pumpkin and spice. And if I think I loved it then, I didn't know what I was missing. It's as if one day I woke up and everything in Paris changed: the temperature dropped substantially, the leaves turned a different shade and suddenly the fashion was jackets and scarfs that I am quietly envying from afar.
In the past month, I've come to see how different life abroad can be. With a few bumps in the road in regard to still not having a bank card, still not having a transport pass and still being unable to figure out the total cost at the market (I should really practice my numbers) -- I have to say, I'm learning that life in France takes patience, a lesson that I have fully embraced. Despite these minor hiccups, emphasis on the minor, because even though I may be a little lost and confused among the red tape, I live in Paris -- who really is going to complain about that -- things here have been ideal.
As someone who thinks in creative conjectures of the world with her romanticized ideologies, I find the change of season to be a metaphor for my life at this moment. Yes, I came here at the end of summer if you want to harp on logistics, but the turn of fall is the time where I'm really starting to feel at home. I feel a level of comfort and ease as I have figured out exactly how to get to my French classes, where my frequently used Metro stops are and have started to recognize the faces of people from my neighborhood. I made some new friends, despite they are also from America and that doesn't really count, it's been nice to be able to discuss our experiences together. In truth, I yearn to make French friends, but the language is slowly, slowly growing on me, so I see that taking some time. Patience, Patience, Patience.
I have been walking around lately, looking up at the beautifully sculpted architecture of the Parisian structures and can't help but think to myself, "I can't believe I live here." You write down all the things you want to do one day, you make a bucket list of your life and yet you still never know if you will achieve them. Mine has always been to travel, to see the world and the list -- it keeps growing with time. And sometimes I just have to pull myself back to my grounded state -- yes, you live here -- appreciate it -- enjoy every moment. This feeling is still as surreal as it was about six weeks ago and I hope it never goes away.