These is my words.

by Camille Posted on August 23, 2011

This post is written in conjunction with the Spin Cycle over at Sprite’s Keeper, the topic of which this week is language. Click here to see more of the most linguistic posts on the internet this week.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Long before I declared myself an English major (or even knew what it meant to do such a thing), I was starkly aware of the power of words.

As a child I liked to read and read often. I was never the cute little Hermione or Anne of Green Gables bookworm who knew from a young age she wanted to be a writer (though my sister definitely was), but reading still was fun for me.

My main interest in reading was not so much the stories as the words. I cherished words, rolling new ones over and over in my brain until they shone, polished. Even to this day I can remember exactly where I was—what book I was reading or what class I was in—when I learned certain words for the first time.

I guess in that way I was a collector. Words were wonderful, handy things, all lined up in my brain like wrenches in a toolbox just waiting to be called up, arranged, and put to good use. With words I could communicate, could make myself heard. Words could express tangible needs—like please pass the pickles—or more abstract philosophies—like I wonder if it’s the clouds that are moving or the earth.

Yes, I was profound in my youth.

But for all their vast practical applications, words can also kill people if used violently. Words are a lot like wrenches that way.

I could tell my mom and dad that I hated them. I could tell my sister to get out of my life. I could tell lies about friends on the playground. I could say really mean things to people I loved simply because I was small and self-consumed. I could, and I did.

Sometimes I did.

I’ll never forget the first time I said the F word:

I didn’t mean to—I mean, not really. I had a cousin named Buck and he was over playing with my sister and me and I distinctly remember jumping on my bed (I was one part girl and two parts heathen) chanting, “Bucky, Bucky, fee fi fo f*cky—” you know the game. I knew it was a bad word but I didn’t really know how bad. Plus it sounded so sharp and exact coming out of my mouth, and I cannot deny that I enjoyed the feel of it slipping through my teeth. I figured if I got in trouble I could just claim my innocence by arguing that “it’s just how the game goes.”

I did get in trouble, of course, but my fall back excuse didn’t save me from a time-out and a lecture:

“Do you know what that word means?” asked my mom.

“Not really.”

“It’s a very bad word. It’s what people use to describe [I will save you the awkwardness here and now, but I can guarantee you it was not fun for a seven year old to hear].”

“Oh.”

“Camille, you must be careful with the words you choose.”

I must be careful with the words I choose—I am nearly twenty-five and still trying to get the hang of that life lesson.

I think, though, that once I’ve mastered that, I’ll be a really excellent human being. It may not be until I’m eighty, but I’m determined to see it through.

Words have a way of inspiring a person that way.

Don’t you think?

Posted in awesome., introspection, my edjumacation and me, spin cycle, what I'm about | 10 Comments

Saturday Steals Recap and Guess Who Got a Job.

by Camille Posted on August 22, 2011

Thanks to my two friends who participated in Saturday Steals over the weekend! I know life is busy, times are hard, et cetera et cetera, so I don’t begrudge anyone else for not joining in my celebration of thrift.

The two stealers were:

1. Ros My English Friend from Ticklepea, who scored this sweet shirt for £6.60:

2. Mrs. Five-to-Nine from Five-to-Nine Furnishings, who scored this really cute toy box (now for sale after a makeover by Mrs. F-t-N herself). I’d buy it if I had any toys with which to fill it! Or even if I had any reason to think I might come into some toys soon! Which I don’t! So there!

Thanks, you two—I really do appreciate having participants in my Saturday Steals roundup. Makes life fun and worth living.

Stay tuned for the next round of Saturday Steals, wherein I really will post the Steal of a Lifetime (I never did get around to photographing that steal). Trust me: you won’t want to miss it. It’s beautiful.

As for me, things are looking busy ’round these parts after a month of really truly Taking It Easy. As August draws to an end (and thank goodness—I hate August, always have) I find myself employed in not one but two wonderful jobs that I’m lucky to have. And come September (with the onset of piano lessons) it’ll be up to three. Which, yes, is a lot of jobs to have, but the idea is that lots of jobs equal lots of dough. Hooray for capitalism.

I feel very blessed today.

Hope you do, too.

Posted in awesome., blogger finger, Saturday Steals | 2 Comments

Saturday Steals: The Luggage Steal of a Lifetime

by Camille Posted on August 19, 2011

Hello, and welcome to another rousing round of Saturday Steals, where what you get is what you see and what you see is cheap or free!

To participate, simply:

1) Steal a steal.

2) Write a post about it on your blog, mentioning that you’re participating in Saturday Steals (you can steal the above image if you so desire), and

3) Add the link to said post to the list at the bottom of this post.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It has always been one of my goals in life to have a matching set of luggage.

I decided that my epic trip to France, Spain and England was as good an excuse as any. Plus, matching luggage seemed like a lovely graduation gift to myself.

I spent hours and hours online back in April researching my options (instead of studying for final exams because that is how I roll): hard shell or soft, funky or classic, spinny wheels or the regular kind…the possibilities were exhausting. I knew I wanted to order whatever luggage I chose when I’d be in Arizona the next month so I could qualify for free shipping.

I was most concerned with buying the lightest-weight luggage possible because I knew I’d be flying with Ryanair for my intra-Europe jet-setting and the Ryanair people are weight-restriction sticklers of legendary proportions.

So when I found this, International Traveller’s World’s Lightest Luggage from eBags.com, I thought it was just perfect:

Only my set was in neon green because that was the colour marked down the most. Image from here.

I paid a lot (for me) for the luggage—$184—but it was marked down from more than three times that price and it had RAVE reviews online. Plus see that smallest one? That was going to be the one and only suitcase I took with me for my 19-day trip across international seas. It was tiny and lightweight and I would be blissfully underburdened while I travelled the world in semi-style (I say semi- because I know there are more stylish brands out there {oh do I know}, but none that I can afford).

So finally I took the plunge and bought the set, and immediately camped out by my parents’ front door while I waited for it to arrive.

When it came I tore into the box with such fervor that I looked like just a blur of cardboard and bubble wrap and package labels. The suitcases nested nicely together, so unwrapping them evoked the same childish joy as those Russian matryoshka dolls.

Imagine how sad I was, then, when I saw giant stickers affixed to each of my four suitcases (though it wasn’t the stickers that upset me—it was the yucky residue they left behind on my lovely new luggage):

20110819-041744.jpg

20110819-041752.jpg

I was so disappointed.

Still, I felt like I’d gotten a good deal on my luggage, so I set out to find a cleaner that would remove the sticky residue.

I tried dish soap. Laundry detergent. A combination of the two. To no avail. I thought about trying other commercial cleaners but I was irritated that I’d have to go out and spend money on something that might or might not get my bags looking like new condition.

After investing a few hours into the whole mess, I had built up a sufficient level of consumer’s outrage that I was incited to contact eBags.com’s customer service. I used their 24-hour instant message feature (love those things, by the way—you never have to navigate those annoying phone menus again!) to express my indignation and my customer service friend told me he’d look into it and email me shortly.

Three days later he wrote me back, saying that “a mild detergent should take the spots off” and offered me a 5% discount (or $9.00 off the purchase price of my luggage) for my trouble.

Excuse me? Mild detergent? NINE DOLLARS??

If I thought I was cranky before…well…you know. I was pissed. It was time to bust out the big guns:

My plan of action: I tweeted for all the world (or my 75 followers) to see, and then I wrote An Email (and not just any old email, but AN EMAIL) to the head of their customer service manager. It read:

Dear Zack,

I received an email from [redacted just in case] this morning regarding an IM chat I had with [different redaction just in case] last week regarding an issue I’ve had with the suitcases I purchased online through eBags.com via Amazon.

Each piece in the 4-piece set that I purchased came with a large sticker affixed on the fabric itself, and when I removed the stickers, it left a nasty-looking residue on the suitcases (see images attached). Because it is the lighter green colour it is very noticeable and it makes my otherwise-cool-looking luggage look very ugly.

The solution presented to me by [first redaction] three business days after my initial discussion with [second redaction] was to email you photos of the defect to get a 5% credit back to my original mode of payment, and also that a “mild detergent” will clean the stain from my bags (all four of them).

Although I do like the bags and I would prefer to keep them, I am displeased with this solution because:

1) I have already used two “mild detergents” to clean the stains off my bags (which stains could have been completely avoided had eBags sent them to me without affixing the same promotional sticker to the front of each and every suitcase in the set). Thus far I have put nearly two hours into trying different combinations of mild detergents and gentle techniques that will remove the sticker residue without damaging the bags, with still zero success. I feel insulted that the eBags customer service team wrote, “Please note that you can use a mild detergent to clean the stain from the fabric,” suggesting the problem would be so easily fixed when clearly it is not.

2) Moreover, I feel that 5% is an insufficient accession on eBags’ part. It has now been five days (three business days) since I originally received my order and IMed Mike with my concern. I have put two hours into cleaning the bags (to no avail) and will likely put at least two more hours into finding some sort of less-than-mild detergent to actually remove the ugly stains from my bag.

Response-time aside, even the estimated four hours of my own time I will put into getting my bags into actual new-looking condition (which condition I had expected them to be in five days ago) is a substantially larger hassle than I had anticipated when I purchased these bags. The 5% refund eBags has offered on my purchase of $183.99 works out to $9.19. Divided between my four (estimated) hours of unpleasant hassle with this whole situation (still with no promise of new-looking bags), I will have been compensated $2.29/hour, which is, again, insulting. (This is, of course, not to mention all the hours I have now put into talking with eBags customer service representatives in order to get this matter resolved—not only have I IMed [redacted] and waited three days to hear back from [other redacted] who referred me to you, but in his reply email, he wrote “you can send the pictures of the stains to our manager Zack at [e-mail address removed],” so I then had to call customer service and speak with [third redaction] who at last gave me [what I hope is] your correct email address.)

I believe a fair compensation would be 30% of the purchase price, which works out to be $55.19, bringing the final total for my new, but flawed, merchandise to $128.80.

My sole purpose for purchasing this luggage was as a reward for graduating from university, which I will achieve upon completion of my final class in June: an art history study abroad class in Paris. The class itself has cost me more than an entire semester of tuition, but I was willing to make some sacrifices in order to have an amazing travel experience. I chose to purchase the IT-Ø-2 World’s Lightest Side Bound 4 Piece Luggage Set in Lime from eBags after hours of research into the best, sturdiest, most lightweight luggage I could afford. $183.99 is obviously not as expensive as some luggage can get, but on my meager student income it was definitely a splurge. Although I am pleased with the luggage’s weight and design, I am so disappointed with its blatant cosmetic flaw and the hassle I’ve had to go through to get it resolved.

I fully realise that an order of $183.99 does not necessarily qualify me as eBags’s VIP-type of big-spender status. However, I am a loyal customer to companies that deserve the business, and I fully expect to continue using eBags in the future if I can get this problem resolved to my satisfaction.

Thank you,

Camille

The next day I received the following reply from Zack:

 First off, congrats on the trip! Paris is amazing and you will have an amazing time! I apologize for the delay in our response to you. We are a drop-ship company and all products are to be shipped, new from our vendors’ warehouses. We want all of our customers to receive brand new merchandise in top shape, which is why we do not offer discounts to keep damaged or defective items. I was hopeful that International Traveler had some bags that did not have the stickers on them that we could use to swap your original set. The warehouse checked and all the light green sets were stickered at the factory in Asia and then shipped to the US distribution warehouse. I apologize that I am unable to provide you with new luggage in perfect condition, so I have credited your purchase in full. I appreciate you taking the time to let me know about your situation so we can work with our vendors to improve the eBags experience.

Zack

CREDITED MY PURCHASE IN FULL? I had to reread it to make sure I saw it correctly, and even then I wrote him back to clarify:

Hi Zack,

Thank you for your response. It means a lot to me as a customer to have not felt like just a number.

Just to clarify, you have credited my account in full as in I need to send the luggage back now?

Thanks,

Camille

And he wrote:

Hi Camille,

You are NEVER just a number! We are a small start-up company and value all our customers’ opinions. You have been credited in full, through your Amazon account, and you can keep the luggage at no cost. Hope that works.

Zack

Credited in full as in IT WAS FREE. 100% FREE.

And suddenly, my luggage started looking pretty dang good, sticky patches or no.

Of course I immediately felt like a tool for being so b*tchy about it when they ended up being so nice, so I had to go back to Twitter and change my tune:

In the end, even though it was quite the runaround, I was pleased with the response I received (who wouldn’t be?) I did spend some of that money on a few different cleaners (none of which worked in the end), but even still I was very happy with my matching luggage set for zero dollars and zero cents.

20110819-042226.jpgTrue to my plan, I took it to Europe and if I wasn’t the chicest member of my class, I was definitely the lightest packer and the least encumbered.

On top of it all, I learned a valuable lesson about customer service (that it’s nice to be heard and not feel like a number), which I can guarantee I’ll be using on both ends of the email inbox throughout my life.

And that is a steal.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Now it’s your turn! What have you stolen lately?

Add your steal to the link list below to share it with the world. The list will be open from now till Sunday at 11:59 p.m.

 

Posted in awesome., like-it-link-it, on the road again, Saturday Steals, Travel, watch out or I'll blog about you | 7 Comments

Cath Kidston is amazing, amen.

by Camille Posted on August 18, 2011

Remember Saturday Steals tomorrow night!

•••••••••••••••

I’ll never forget the first time I saw one of The Bags.

I was riding the Metro in Paris from La Defense (where our crummy hotel was) to Champs-Elysees to behold some French beauty. There I was, standing up, clutching a germ-infested metal bar and swaying along with the gentle rocking motion of the train, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw it: a spotted wonder.

It looked like this:

Image from here.

It was so lovely; I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

So entranced was I that when the woman holding The Bag got off two stops ahead of the one I’d been planning on taking, I followed her (from a safely non-creepy distance) just so I wouldn’t have to be out of its presence.

I could see the hint of a label affixed to The Bag but I couldn’t make out what it said. “I have to know more about This Bag,” I thought to myself, capital letters included. I very nearly approached the woman but chickened out when she stopped at a café and kissed a very handsome man on the cheeks before sitting down to have some sort of delicious concoction whose name I couldn’t begin to pronounce.

Defeated, I began looking for another Metro station, vowing to learn more about The Bag before I left the continent.

It had been a thirty minute detour but it was worth every second.

Throughout the rest of my trip I saw a few more of Those Bags, but it wasn’t until I met up with my wonderful friends in England that I learned the name that would change my life:

Cath Kidston.

I even saw one of her shops in the St. Pancras [Pancreas] train station, but I didn’t leave myself enough time to sniff around it.

It’s okay, though—just another reason to get me back there someday.

There are truly not words good enough to describe how I feel about this designer and her craft, so I will leave you with these following images and let you ruminate on the beauty for yourselves:

Image from here.

Image from here.

Image from here.

Image from here.

And that, my friends, is Cath Kidston, owner of the world’s most beautiful mind.

Let me see by a raise of hands whose life is now changed.

Posted in awesome., design, Pretty Things, Travel | 3 Comments

Paris the Eighth—Flea Market, Montmarte Cemetery, and Sacré-Cœur Basilica

by Camille Posted on August 17, 2011

This is an update of the amazing trip I took to Europe last summer. Slowly but surely I’m posting about every day I spent on that excellent continent. To read earlier updates, click here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here. And here. And here and here and here and here and here and here.

•••••••

The day after my rejuvenating experience with Mahler just so happened to be Saturday, which meant that the entire class had an entire two days completely free. Some students took quick trips to London, others went to Euro Disney, but I decided I couldn’t rationalise spending money for a hotel room in a different city while I had already paid for a hotel room in Paris. Plus, there was a lot I still had on my check list for the great city, so on Saturday and Sunday I proceeded to work on said list.

I started out by heading to the Puces de Saint-Ouen Market (with useful directions from Jordan Ferney), which is supposedly the biggest flea market in the world. My love of old crap and love of deals and love of French stuff made this part of my trip a very big highlight. The booths were more like tiny little shops, and they had everything from old light fixtures (light bulbs included) to spare parts for toys to old keys to random beads and newsprint letters. I didn’t even bother putting my camera away the entire time because everywhere I turned I needed to take another photo.

I didn’t buy anything because I needed a reason to go back someday:

20110810-084351.jpg20110810-084400.jpg20110810-084411.jpg20110810-084422.jpg20110810-084433.jpg20110810-084445.jpg20110810-084525.jpg20110810-084535.jpg

The only thing that could’ve made it better is if my sister or friend Chelsie had been there to enjoy it with me—it’s just the sort of thing they would’ve loved.

After the flea market I decided to make my way to Montmarte, which is told to be a very artsy part of Paris. I had been to Paris twice before but never made it to Montmarte, and when I finally got there I was kicking myself for not going sooner. I didn’t have much time to spend there, and didn’t see near as much as I wanted, but again: just another reason to go back someday.

One of the coolest parts of Montmarte was the cemetery, which was like its own village in itself. It was this amazing little world, and I loved seeing how Paris built itself right around the cemetery. Obviously it was at one point far away from the city, but now it’s prime real estate:

These tombs are right underneath a freeway overpass:

20110810-084546.jpg

 

20110810-084600.jpg20110810-084612.jpg

I got diarrhead on by a bird, but it was okay because it was French poo:

20110810-084637.jpg

20110810-084658.jpg20110810-084712.jpg20110810-084727.jpg20110810-084737.jpg20110810-084748.jpg

 

After the cemetery I headed to the nearby Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, or the Sacred Heart Basilica. It’d been on my checklist for a long time so I was thrilled to see it finally.

20110810-085019.jpg

I didn’t go inside because I had more important things to spend my Euros on like chocolate croissants, and if you’ve seen one cathedral you’ve seen them all (my professor is turning over in his undug grave). But I did grab this video from the top of the hill where the Basilica is pleasantly situated:

One of my favourite things to do when I’m in a foreign place is to ride the city bus and talk to people. I did just that on my way to Sacré-Cœur, and I received a lot of handy information (like the best bus stop to take that would ensure I took the fewest steps possible, and to skip the interior of the Basilica because it wasn’t worth it). On the bus ride, one old lady kept trying to tell me something about products from France.

“Products from France! Products from France!” she insisted. (She said a lot of other things but the only thing I understood was PRODUCTS FROM FRANCE—YOU HAVE TO SEE THE PRODUCTS FROM FRANCE.)

I kind of smiled and nodded my head, having no clue what she meant, but it didn’t take long for me to figure it out once I got off the bus near the Basilica: there was a street fair called Le Périgord featuring specialties from all over the many regions of France—products from France. (There’s another tourist writeup of it on this blog, which has some better photos of it than I took.)

20110810-084801.jpg

I saw truffles for the first time in my life and realised that they cost an awful lot of Euros for something that looks suspiciously like turds:20110810-084946.jpg

I also tried foie gras for the first time in my life and almost threw up because it tasted so very much like blood (in fact, that’s pretty much what it is). So I ate these delicious strawberries with creme to get the flavour out of my mouth:20110810-085007.jpg

I marvelled at some street performers like this lady chillin’ on the street dressed up as Eliza Doolittle with an accordion:

And this guy who belonged in Cirque du Soleil (if you don’t watch any other video I post here, watch this one) (he was so good that I stuck around to watch a second time just so I could capture it on video for you, my friends) (and then I paid him a Euro because I suffer from debilitating socioeconomic guilt) (but actually this guy’s probably a lot richer than I am so I should’ve kept my Euro to myself):

All in all it was a very successful day of checking things off my “To See in Paris” list.

And the next day I went to church.

Posted in awesome., friends, my edjumacation and me, Travel | 9 Comments

Paris the Seventh—Mahler Symphony No. 8 at Le Théâtre du Châtelet

by Camille Posted on August 16, 2011

This is an update of the amazing trip I took to Europe last summer. Slowly but surely I’m posting about every day I spent on that excellent continent. To read earlier updates, click here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here. And here. And here and here and here and here and here and here.

•••••••

So where last we left off, I was six days into my summer school art history class in Paris and I was feeling pretty burned out. I was mentally exhausted from seeing so much culture in so short a time. I was physically exhausted from trekking so many miles through the vastness of Paris. And I was emotionally exhausted from not being in contact (thanks to lack of internet connection at our hotel) with family or friends or blog peeps when I had so much I wanted to share with everyone. By day six, I was pretty spent and I didn’t know how to snap out of it so I could enjoy the fullness of my trip.

But then, just at the peak of my bone-deep fatigue, a miracle happened: I got this email at the end of my long day at the Louvre:

From: Erin Wall
To: CPSF
Subject: Tickets for Chatelet concert

Hi Camille –

I’m Erin, that weird singery lady from the plane.  I am sorry it’s taken me this long, but I am just writing to say there will be 2 tickets in your name at the box office tomorrow [though by the time I got the email it was today] at the Chatelet.  It starts at 8 and should run just over an hour.  Here’s a link to the theatre website: http://www.chatelet-theatre.com/chatelet1011v2/concerts/symphonie%20des%20mille,461 and that has a little more about it, all in French, of course.

I hope you are having a great time in Paris and that the city is treating you well!

Hope you enjoy it tomorrow night too, if you do come!

Erin
<redacted>
www.erinwall.com

Say WHAT?

Here’s how it happened:

On the flight to Paris, I happened to sit next to this really nice lady who looked a little bit like Reese Witherspoon and said she was going to Paris to sing in a concert.

“That’s cool,” I said, “where is it and when? Maybe I’ll come see you sing if I’m there while the concert is running. I’ll be your groupie!”

“It’s at the Châtelet [sounds like sha-tell-AY],” she said, “and I’d love it if you came. It’s classical music, which might not be your thing, but you’re welcome to come. I might even be able to get you tickets.”

“Classical music is definitely my thing,” I said, and it was true: my parents didn’t put me through twelve years of piano and flute lessons for nothing.

“Well, let me have your email address,” she said, “and I’ll call my agent and see if I can have some tickets for you. They usually give two to the performers.”

“Sweet,” I said, and handed her my card.

As we talked more, it came about that the people sponsoring the concert (Radio France) were paying her all of her expenses to get to/stay in Paris.

Dang, I thought, she must be good or something.

YOU GUYS: Good doesn’t even come close to how amazing she was. As it happened, she was Erin Wall, and she gets paid to sing all over the world, in places like Prague, Hamburg, The Hague, Edinburgh, Montréal, Rio de Janeiro, Munich, and Houston.

And that’s just her 2011 calendar.

Of course, none of this was at all apparent to me until I actually got to the theatre the night of the concert, picked up my {free!} tickets at the box office, and moseyed my way into my seat, which, as it turned out, was most excellently located in the fourth row from the stage, smack in the middle.

20110808-021806.jpg
Waiting for the concert to start with the only friend I made from the class. We were terribly under dressed but since I hadn’t gotten the email about the concert (curse you, hotel with no wifi) until we’d already left our rooms for the day, we had to come straight from the Louvre without time to change before the concert. We rationalised that we were students and there really was nothing we could do about it. Nobody kicked us out.

Here’s what the Châtelet looked like from where we sat (before the choir came in, while the orchestra was still warming up):


Before long, the choir seats started filling up. I looked and looked for my friend Erin from the plane but couldn’t find her. I began to wonder if I could even remember what she looked like at all. Finally, only a few minutes before the concert was scheduled to begin, I saw four ladies making their way to the front of the stage—the very front—and take their seats right next to the conductor. “Those must be the best singers,” I thought to myself, and guess who was the one sitting DIRECTLY NEXT to the conductor?

My friend Erin Wall.


That’s her on the far right; image (and writeup of the very concert I attended) from here.

Best singer, indeed; she was like a movie star. After I got over my astonishment that I knew the principle soprano up there on the stage (and after I got over my sheepishness for not understanding how amazing she actually was when I was sitting only inches away from her for seven hours on our flight to Paris), I then had to get over my utter bedazzlement at the sight of the dress she was wearing. Did you see that gown?

At long last, the concert started. I got goosebumps.

The concert continued and I had goosebumps.

An hour and half later, the concert ended—and I had goosebumps.

It was so spectacular. The audience was outrageous when we finally were permitted to clap—we must’ve clapped, all of us, for twenty minutes. Not a word of a lie. The conductor and soloists kept going backstage and then coming out and bowing, over and over. Nobody wanted the evening to end—at least, I didn’t, and by the sounds of the thunderous applause, I was not alone.

As soon as I could, while still on my cultural high, I announced it to the world:

By the time I got back to my hotel room it was nearly midnight, but I stayed awake to record the events of the day in my journal. I am so glad I did, for even though—or perhaps because—my thoughts are so scrambled (from the late hour and emotional highs and lows, no doubt), they capture perfectly the emotions I felt that night:

I can’t remember the last time I was so moved—it sounds corny but it’s true. I left feeling so uplifted, and I realised I hadn’t felt that in a long, long time. I would even venture to say it was a spiritual experience. I can’t remember the last time I felt so passionate—so inspired—to do some good in the world. I was grinning nearly from start to finish. It made me miss playing in an orchestra; it made me miss creating beauty. It moved me to be a better person, to do better things with my time than I’ve done in a long time.

Paris has been good to me today.

And indeed it had.

Posted in awesome., French, good tunes, introspection, my edjumacation and me, Travel | 7 Comments