Snow

Well, after all that scurrying and worrying, the plans have changed and yet a few more French adventures (and naps and sex and boredom and challenges) lie ahead. The airline prices never went down and I wasn't able to cushion my emotional turmoil with a return plan before Christmas, so it appears I will be in France with TMI and his family after all. It will be my first Christmas without warm Hawaii sand and temperate outdoor dinner parties, and the consequential homesick of this reality has been pelting me like a sudden hail storm, but the good news: I will be here until February and thus have time to endure necessary French exams, scary phone interviews, and essay writing that could get me into a Masters program here in Dijon; granting me the ever sought after student visa and means to come back to the country I love. This means I can weather the 18 hours of flight time without attempting lost-love-themed suicide in the bathroom.

So this means my first Christmas day with my significant other's family, possibly a New Year's adventure in Prague, (which could require all night partying, death, and sharing a hostle room with 5 French guys) and a ski trip in the Alps. Probably all wrinkle inducing but at least blog material, right?

Last but not least, yesterday I ate raclette with TMI and two of his friends. It's this crazy grill + cheese melter thing that you put charcuterie and maybe mushrooms on while cheese melts- than you sort of pile it all together on potatoes on your plate in one big fat festival of social weight gain. I don't know if it was the comfort food or just common sense, but Mr. J finally eased off a bit and the happiness that's supposed to come from good love seems to be peeking out from all that icy insecurity and worry. There's still a lot of snow shoveling to do, I mean, but hey at least there's hope.