I still can't believe I actually went on the trip of my dreams.

Paris. I've been there. It still seems unreal.

I've always wanted to go to Paris. Not sure why, except I would guess it's the mix of the romanticism, plus taking French Immersion since Grade 1. (Which means from Grade 1 on, most of my classes were in French- the teacher spoke in French, we spoke in French, all assignments were in French. Hence- immersion.)

Nearing the trip, I was actually kinda worried that the trip wouldn't live up. I mean, it's PARIS. I had this inflated notion in my head of romantic walks and decadent meals and opulent apartments.

So did it live up? Absolutely. I mean, it wasn't Paris in a movie. The weather was horrible, the food was expensive, and everyone smoked. "La Vie En Rose" did not serenade me as I walked down along the Seine. I wasn't perfectly make-upped or wearing heels and a swishy skirt (did I mention the horrible weather?). But it STILL LIVED UP. It was incredible and I loved every minute. The architecture, the macarons, the art, the language, the pastries.

I went with the hubs and two other couples and they mentioned how they don't really want to go back but I don't feel that way at all. I could go back and back and back again- although I would like to see the coast next time. I think one of the big things that connected me to it, that really made me love it, was my handle on the language. I couldn't speak fluently, and I couldn't understand everything, but I did pretty good, if I do say so myself. Because of that, I felt a connection to the place.

If I'm ever stinkin' rich one day (ha, yeah) then I totally want to own an apartment in Paris so I can spend time there anytime I want. So I guess, Paris is still a dream to me.