This isn’t fair.  And you know it.  One day everything is wonderful, the next it’s dissipated into nothing.  I can’t stand it, it’s making me feel sick.  I’ve never had something so worthwhile ripped from my hands without the least bit of forewarning.  You wonder why I can’t even flash you a genuine smile? It’s because I’m hurt.  Simply put.  Simply understood?

In recent news however, at least I know that I’m getting the fuck out of here.  Bonjour Paris, ma nouvelle maison!! I cannot wait to relish in your beauty, culture, and foreignness.  Maybe it’s there where I can finally be who I’ve always wanted to be.  Maybe I can learn pastry from the best, from Pierre Herme himself, or maybe I can sacrifice 2 years of my life, and countless sums of money for Le Cordon Bleu, or maybe I can live and wish that I had someone to live with.  So it goes, que sera, sera.  All I know, is that with this newfound knowledge– of Paris and such, I wish I could share it with you, but I know that it will only make me more sullen.


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