starting again.

Alors. I'm back in the states once again wondering if Paris ever happened. Did it? Do you ever get that feeling when you leave somewhere for so long then return to your actual home that you feel like you never left? Everything that's happened since I graduated high school seems like a dream. Everytime I come home, nothing feels like it's changed. It scared me. A lot. But then I see my brother and sister and the way they've changed. It's the only reminder of us leaving home, my life outside of these walls. Fuck, it's some weird shit.

Anyhow today I'm supposed to clean my room, ordered by my mother, of course. I'm in the process of unpacking my winter clothes and repacking everything to move to New York. My life will not come with me until August. When I find an actual apartment. J'espère. Anyhow, I went through all of my belongings finding that I no longer wear half of my clothes, read any of my booksm keep all of my old teen vogue/ym/cosmogirl magazines, and I keep all of my notes from high school. What?! Serious cleaning needed to be done. After a good five hours, my room is still a mess. Surprise! I don't know what to do. I want to donate my clothes to goodwill or salvation army. Something like that.

Everyday, at least every 5-1o seconds, I think about Paris. What I could've done, what I did..it's hurting inside. I've realized I want to go back. For a while. My time's not up yet, maybe I'll be able to go back sometime in the future. Right? With this economy and the chance of me getting a job?...Slim to none. Haven't seen any 'friends' from my hometown which makes it weird. Well, I have but I arranged to see these two people. Everyone else I contacted either changed their number and didn't tell me or just are not picking up my calls. It's cool I understand. I've moved on too. Barbeque tomorrow with the fam and old family friends. That's gonna be something. Invited two of my friends. They'll keep me sane. I have nothing interesting to post about anymore because I am no longer in Paris. This is weird. I don't think my quotidien things hold an inkling of interest because it doesn't happen in Paris. Weird. Weird. Weird. Wakka.

Paris, tu me manques beaucoup. J'espère que je peux retourner bientôt. =( I miss my Parisien friends and my little apartment in the Bastille. Dear lord, reverse culture shock extreme.