Departing, debuts, downbeats, dancing and drinks jusqu'à daytime.

leaving salt lake felt surreal. i kept asking myself what my one-way ticket meant, but decided to keep that a secret from myself.

the first leg of the trip dropped me in new york for a brief 12 hours where i was graciously greeted by marcus and a cup of coffee at 6, or wait was it 5 am? tired and tried we took the "scenic" route, otherwise known as the taxi driver's idea of a shortcut, from JFK to the place where david's cat silo is lord overall, including my bags. my productivity wanned as my eyelids kept drooping and i found myself curled up in a little ball on the weird red-velvet, throne chair in the corner of the room. the city was already full bustle and lulled me to sleep with sirens and screetches. in my neglect i forgot to plan where i would stay in paris once i arrived and spent hours online and on the phone calling various hostels and hotels speaking in broken french asking if they had any room. RIEN! yet, finally i found a cheapie that would not overwhelm my wallet. breakfast with david and marcus was a nice send off as was le petit cadeau around my neck. despite the awkward time for hailing cabs, marcus managed to catch me one and sent me on my way. the second departure was rocky. batting my eyelashes in desperate fear that my "mutilated" passport would prevent me from boarding the plane to reykjavik, the icelandair officals reprimanded me and let me on my way once i promised to get a new passport in paris~my final destination. i have not followed through with my end of the bargin, yet.

three strange nights in paris left a lingering in my heart as i met up with my other comrades at charles de gaulle to complete the voyage à tours.

once meeting my host family and speaking with them for two hours straight-french my head hurt, but i felt at home in their welcoming grace and thoroughly enjoyed my new name: Saïdi. first days at school were overwhelming and i found myself in the B1++ niveau class, haute but not too haute. many changes and faces, comings and goings, greetings and stumbles, rainy days and hot sweats, mosquito piques and technical difficulties later left me a bit overwhelmed and discouraged.

i decided to leave for paris friday night and meet up with dan who had arrived from berlin a bit early in the week. we walked and walked and played the city by ear talking and taking a picture or two, which may or may not turn out and if so you may or may not see for christmas. the next day-to-night was more unexpected. i checked out of my hostel and sat by the Jules Joffrin metro station stop listening to the awesome jams of the merry-go-round ride a few feet away reading a dictionary waiting for dan. when he showed up we began our walking trek. ordering cafes and yougurt at a nice little cafe, which was near the club we would visit later, was a nice repose between our trek from one part of paris to the other. refreshing ourselves in the other hostel was desperately needed due to the intense muggy city heat that surrounded us and made us smell a bit overripe. we arrived early at the club following the empty blue lights downstairs to find patrick pounding sound checks on his drums. while that was going on dan and i went for a beer and cafe at a nearby spot. when they were finished we spent the hour or so before the show eating with the band et al. at a funny matrix restaurant. dan commented on the schnitzel-esque appearance of a dish and the other two dans and patrick made some jokes which killed me to tears, most of which no one else would find humerous at all so i will not share them here. the show was amazing and meeting so many other special faces made the night even more pleasant. a bit of debauchery later found us being escorted from backstage out of the club, which was now closed, into the daylight of sunday morning. three hours of sleep at the hostel and then long walks around paris again left me exhausted to an extreme...my sleepiness wasn't aided by the fact that my train would be 4 hours late, but it was all for the best as a french girl, for who i saved a seat, helped me with my homework and lent me a french magazine to read...and upon leaving the gare wished me courage with my studies.

my host mum greeted me with much love and compassion and a hot meal of duck and vegetables and wine and water and cheese and bread. we discussed the joys of my journey until i was too sleepy. a much needed shower later and then sleeping in left me well prepared, but late for my class the next day, which so far has been better than all the others...