‘Twas the Night Before Paris






I’m going to barf.
And I’m certainly NOT going to sleep!
This insane level of excitement can only be compared to the absolutely sleepless Christmas Eves we had as children. Sadly, there is nobody here to stay up with all night whispering loudly to. Not-so-sadly, my parents aren’t in the next room yelling at me to go to sleep. No matter what, there will be something fabulous under my tree tomorrow. I feel like I should be leaving out milk and cookies.

I’ve re-packed my suitcase three times. It’s very full. I was going to save space in case I needed it for my purchases, but I just can’t seem to pare down my contents. I’m sure I won’t end up wearing half the stuff I’m bringing (like the bathing suit, for example) but I would hate to be unprepared! I have at least three versions of the perfect evening out dress, four different “I’m cute, it’s spring” numbers, and only one pair of pants. It seems really wrong to wear pants in Paris. Laugh if you must.

Thank you to all of my friends and family who have generously loaned me various gadgets and who-dads to make my travel experience more enjoyable. I notice nobody ponied up with any sedatives, so I guess I’ll have to fly au naturel. I’ve received no less than three different versions of how to get proper rest and avoid dehydration on the plane. If I were to combine all three, the end result would be me escorted off the plane in cuffs at ‘ol Charlie De Gaulle.

I will admit to being scared. I’m not sure what I’m scared of, exactly. I think it’s the vast unknown. Definitely the possibility of being lonely. Most certainly of having to be on a plane (I still don’t understand why or how they work). I’ve got a little anxiety over being alone at night in a strange city. Perhaps drinking wine from a baby bottle will help with all of this. (yes, there’s a restaurant where you can actually do this. I’m not sure why…)

My mom has been doing this very cute thing each morning this week, where she emails me a different image of Paris with a little count-down of the number of sleeps left. It’s sweet to see what Paris looks like in her imagination. Lots of beautifully composed photos of famous landmarks.

Above is a little taste of what it looks like in mine…

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