So kiddies, I've been gone. For that, I'm sorry. But I have to admit, my brief Parisian life inspired me to write about as much as sitting in a Police Station would inspire a person to dance.
Contrarily, Paris inspired me to cry, scream, sleep and crumble all in the name of sheer happiness. I hadn't the time nor will to sit in front of my beloved MacBook and shed my usual shameless cliches, stock nouns and slack verbs.
I'm sitting in an overpriced lounge at a London train centre, waiting, writing and reflection on the week thats passed. I've found myself blind with euphoria and laughing so hard I was embarrassed, simply because I didn't know how else to deal. I walked (although with a very experienced and sexy tour guide), through the areas in Paris that are worthy of happy tears. I ate Paris food, I walked Paris streets, I lived a real Paris life, and now I'm gone. (Moment of silence please.)
And now I'm over it.
London has welcomed me with open, fish'n'chip filled arms.
I have photos, yes. But they're stuck in a camera with no way out. So for now you're left with photos from my MacBook's photo booth.
I'll make my exit on two notes, one is a photo of the first (terrible tasting and overpriced) meal I've had in London.
The second is this:
There's an age old saying; "Yes a bird may love a fish, but where would they live?"
Apparently, they'd live in London.
Until next time,
The MOD
Contrarily, Paris inspired me to cry, scream, sleep and crumble all in the name of sheer happiness. I hadn't the time nor will to sit in front of my beloved MacBook and shed my usual shameless cliches, stock nouns and slack verbs.
I'm sitting in an overpriced lounge at a London train centre, waiting, writing and reflection on the week thats passed. I've found myself blind with euphoria and laughing so hard I was embarrassed, simply because I didn't know how else to deal. I walked (although with a very experienced and sexy tour guide), through the areas in Paris that are worthy of happy tears. I ate Paris food, I walked Paris streets, I lived a real Paris life, and now I'm gone. (Moment of silence please.)
And now I'm over it.
London has welcomed me with open, fish'n'chip filled arms.
I have photos, yes. But they're stuck in a camera with no way out. So for now you're left with photos from my MacBook's photo booth.
I'll make my exit on two notes, one is a photo of the first (terrible tasting and overpriced) meal I've had in London.
The second is this:
There's an age old saying; "Yes a bird may love a fish, but where would they live?"
Apparently, they'd live in London.
Until next time,
The MOD
