I'm not feeling so bad about the French degree, whether or not I do go through with it and finish it. All I know is what my inner voice revealed to me the other day: Coming to France was never about learning French. At least not exactly. It was about living in another place totally removed from my familiar world, coming to terms with what I want to do with my life (which happens all the time no matter where I am), and learning how to make it (somewhat) on my own. Of course, I am plagued with guilt since my parents are paying for my year abroad, but I'm going to pay it back. It's the right thing to do. They shouldn't be paying for my year of "writing abroad". They didn't agree to that.
Anyway, I don't think I'll have that crazy after college graduation period where I'll be lost and unfocused because that's already happened here. I know what I want. I know what I want. I've never felt so full of hope for the future. Plus, I can't think of a better time to live abroad: I'm young, single, pretty cute, and bursting with energy to write and explore the world around me. I won't ever be able to do this again after I graduate.
Free museum Sunday today, so I went to the Petit Palais with Kristin. We were going to go to the Courbet exposition at the Grand Palais, but the line was almost 2 hours long. Then walked along the Champs-Elysees, which was pretty cool, towards the Arc de Triomphe. Saw this clock at the Petit Palais.
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