I made it back to New York in one piece after surviving yesterday's hysteria and was greeted by my Mother who was just horrified by what had happened. In her words "Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous." with hands having in the air. I know, Mom, I know. What's done is done and am just glad to be back in The States. To commence my American vacation, she took me to lunch at Houston's for Spinach dip and chicken salad and almost had a double orgasm when the server had asked me if I wanted my left-over uneaten salad wrapped to go. To-go! I forgot that you can do that, a concept that hasn't reached Paris yet and mostly likely never will. On the way back to my Mom's house, I almost fainted when I saw the price of gas, 4.22! Good thing I don't drive anymore. In the words of my Mother "Holy shit".
We got back to her house where I dropped my bags at the door and ran straight for my cats to give them unwanted squeezes and kisses. They hate when I come home, cats in general don't like to be picked up and squeezed into submission but I selfishly refuse to accept this unspoken feline rule. I simply can't resist them. As a kitty bonus, I went in my backyard to discover that my mom has been feeding a litter of new-born kittens who are bite size and equally irresistible. Amusingly, one of them has a striking resemblance to my cousin, who I immediately named after. Kirk. I'm not so sure that human Kirk will agree with their uncanny resemblance.
Mother cat and "Kirk"This trip back is an improvement to the last time I was here, it was under less than happy circumstances or rather unbearably miserable circumstances. It was 2 weeks after the break-up and my brothers and cousins tried to keep me entertained by inviting me to a dog's funeral where someone snuck in a Metallica CD and no one seemed to notice. I heard "Enter Sandman" 4 times in one day, the guests looked like Willie Nelson and I looked like death. I felt worse. This return back, I have some color, shed my stress weight and feel relaxed.Monsieur Flâneur was supposed to be here with me. That was the plan we had made in the Winter, a vacation in New York to spend time with my family and then back to Paris where we'd drive down to Nice to spend time with his. Thats clearly not happening and am here without him and he will be in Nice without me. I can't help but think what we would be doing. Sitting on the deck, he would be smoking, I'd be torturing the cats and we'd be laughing with my family who adored him. Now I'm doing it alone and while I am slowly moving on from him, I have been thinking about him and guiltily wishing he was here. Time away from Paris will do me some good to get a good dose of friends and family in the hopes of speeding up the healing process for good. I will go back refreshed and ready for the next Chapter of my life abroad. Is it weird that I miss Paris already?
