To the roof

We had another agency soirée last night. This time it was Fred’s going away. He’s still around for a couple weeks, but the send-off on the roof was last night, and it was another beauty. No fireworks over Place de la Concorde, but there were lightening bolts over Montmartre. And I didn’t dance, but I talked to more cute colleagues. I also got lots of compliments on how well my French is progressing. I think everyone was just being nice, but it’s still good to hear. It motivates me to keep studying and talking. Even if me talk like American dork.

The next soirée will probably be for Adorable Isa’s farewell, which I’m really sad about. She’s moving back to Quebec at the end of the month. She likes practicing her English on me as much as I like practicing my French on her. We like talking together. We get each other, and it’s easier to put yourself out there to make mistakes when it’s someone you like and trust.



I started asking her what she’s going to miss about Paris and she couldn’t put it into words. “The city. This,” she said, waving her hands at the Beaux Arts buildings on the Champs-Elysée, the Eiffel Tower, Sacre Couer, our colleagues... Her eyes welled up with tears, which made me swallow a lump in my throat. I don’t envy her leaving. When Paris gets under your skin, it’s really hard to let go.