Here Comes The Sun

Well, I guess I'm going to Latvia. For $65 roundtrip with a buffet dinner included, I'd probably go just about anywhere. Just one of the many reasons my thought process resembles that of cattle.
The sun has graced this beautiful little town today. And the temperature peaked above freezing. I swear, stepping outside and not being consumed by bone-chilling wind made me giddy with excitement. The wide smile on my face from being able to feel my fingertips as I walked to class is probably one of those things you can't truly understand unless you've lived in Sweden...
I just got back from Paris. It's incredible how one city has the ability to take your breath away with its beauty and history, and then disappoint you with its rude shopkeepers and filthy Metro stations. I know about four words of French (seeing as I took Spanish in high school and currently live in Sweden, I'm not feeling too guilty about this ignorance), but I was terrified to ask someone to speak English (make no mistake: everyone knows the language, they simply don't like speaking it). This incredibly offensive question was met with disgusted looks and passive aggressive comments under their breath. I know, Americans suck, we're egocentric capitalists with gun holsters and rolls of fat adorning our hips. But if you could politely speak to me in English while I purchase something from your establishment, I'd be a lot more inclined to throw down some cash to help support the economy of your far superior nation.
Coming from Sweden, the nation of sharing and gentle, warm people, any city would feel cold. And, granted, French is one of the most beautiful languages I've ever heard. I'd probably like it a lot more if half of every word wasn't silent, simply because looking like a damn fool every time I attempted to speak French got old really fast. I mean, "Les Halles" is pronounced "lay all". Riddle me this, France.
Ok, so, back on track: Paris is gorgeous. I would wake up and wander around past Notre Dame, down along the Seine to the Louvre. I'd just glance to my left and see the Eiffel Tower. On my right were rows of shops selling barking pets, savory crepes, bouquets of flowers, and colorful pastries. My friend's apartment was in the heart of the city (Rue de Rivoli), so it was always alive with people, sounds, and smells. I ate baguettes. I wore femme fatale lipstick on a daily basis. And for a week, I had my finger on the pulse of international fashion, history, and culture. Honestly, I don't think I could have handled much more than a week. Love it or hate it, there is no city on the planet like Paris.

So I just spent the past like 2 hours writing this and watching a Netflix movie and ordering books online and eating. I'm going to go try to be a productive member of society now. At 23:00. On a Friday. Internet: 1, Anna's Social Life: 0. But I'm supposed to go this party in Stockholm tomorrow so can we call it a tie?