November 15, 2004
I suppose no one, including myself, ever thought that I would become so entirely distraught over politics and the presidency - but I have. Following the election as closely as I did, one could not help but become sensitive to the nature of things in our country. Luckily, I have made for perfect timing in leaving said disappointment... Not that Europe won't have its own tribulations (all things considered with the recent uproar in the Netherlands, I'm sure that the small wire binding of my pocket notebook will be confiscated as a weapon), but it's doubtful that I'll have enough time to worry about them, much less understand them.Our hostel is located in Montparnasse, once called Mont Parnassus (the 'hill') after the Greek muses, and this alone is thoroughly enchanting. Here, Hemingway spent the majority of his life in Paris and frequented a cafe (which is now more of a restaurant) called La Closerie des Lilas. Thomas Wolfe had his European experience and eloquently described his surroundings in Montparnasse which gives young Americans, "...the sensation of a whole world given over without reserve or shame to pleasure." The Place de l'Observatoire unfolds with beautiful statues and fountains of high arching water right next to the cafe and the Boul' Mich' is straight ahead. To meander through these streets in wide eyed wonder, as once did Robert Service and Pablo Picasso, is simply fantastic enough.
The reality of it all is finally infiltrating my senses. It is suffused in each breath as I turn over my passport, obvious with each squeal as I recount my Euros and nearly obnoxious with my hearty 's'il vous plaits.' I am nervous and I am enthralled, I am enthused and I am scared to death and, above all, I'm damned cute in my Parisian hat and scarf.