little black journal

I’m getting itchy. Not wool-sweater-itchy, but stuck-in-one-place-itchy. Maybe it’s all of this staying indoors lately (due to the incessant rain which feels like it will NEVER STOP), but now more than ever, I want to go someplace. Someplace far away. Like Paris, or Portugal, or maybe Switzerland? The European vacation that Shane and I promised ourselves we would take before we start a family seems to keep getting pushed back. I know that this is largely due to the fact that we chose to pursue a different dream several months ago and bought a house, and I wouldn’t take back that decision for the world, since our home and our neighbors have been such an incredible blessing to us, but a mortgage payment does seem to make a significant dent in the travel fund. Thus the itchiness. I keep reminiscing about the year I spent in Paris, which was so enlightening and wonderful and full of surprises. Around every corner was a fantastic cafe or a beautiful cathedral or an old tile-roofed, stone-walled, wrought-iron railinged apartment building. And I was able to do things like hop on a train to Brussels at a moment’s notice, to keep from letting that one remaining day on my Euro-Rail pass go to waste. The luxuries of student life abroad… But for now, we must be patient. And save. And dream about that picture-perfect day that we will someday spend again in Paris. It might go something like this:

Roll out of bed sometime between the hours of 9 and 10 (in typical Parisian fashion), shower, and step out onto the narrow sidewalk outside our room on Rue de Rosiers. Grab a pain au chocolat at any of the dozens of bakeries at our fingertips and walk across the Pont Marie to take a seat along the bank of the Seine to enjoy our flaky, buttery, chocolaty croissants. Find the very spot there on Ile Saint-Louis where Shane proposed (the first time), and enjoy a sappy-but-precious romantic moment. Part of the afternoon would have to be spent at the Centre Pompidou (a contemporary-art-lover’s dream). There are paintings there that have the ability to literally take my breath away… The rest of the afternoon would be devoted to aimlessly wandering and sitting on cafe terraces, sipping espresso. Maybe grab a falafel sandwich and swing by Place de Vosges to lay on the grass and people-watch for awhile. And once darkness falls, seeing the Eiffel Tower is a must. Touristy as it is, it is still beautiful, especially at night. A 2 or 3-hour dinner of French cuisine, a stop at the courtyard of the Louvre (this building lit up at night = wow!), and we will fall into bed contentedly exhausted. How lovely it is to dream…

Taken from the top of one of the towers of Notre Dame. So many gems to be found within those narrow streets…

Mmmmmm-hmmmmm…