It's finally spring in Paris.

I know most of you are (or have just returned from) occupying warmer climates at the moment, but it seems that spring has officially arrived in Paris, and I couldn't be more pleased about the change in the weather. For weeks, I sat through my morning French class watching the sun climb in the blue, blue sky out of the window, only to leave class at 1 pm to find the world gray and rainy. Today, it rained all morning and was sunny, gorgeous and warm all afternoon (save for the thunderstorm just before dinner...).

I packed away my winter coat into the suitcase under my bed weeks ago, and finally it seems like other people here are following suit, abandoning heavy winter wear and hats and scarves. I definitely saw some shorts today, and flip-flops have started appearing as well. I'm most excited about the fact that I can start picnicking in the parks and jardins and reading out of doors (though sadly there isn't much grass one can sit on in Paris, and I have been missing, a bit, the big green lovely lawns at Scripps).

I really love living here...it's horribly upsetting to me that I need to make some kind of plan about coming home; I was considering just hiding here, indefinitely, but a friend of mine is in the midst of some nasty visa issues which have dissuaded me from attempting that tack. If I decide to escape the states, I'll try to do it legally. My French has gotten quite a bit better, though according to my school, I'm still only on the "seuil," or "doorstep" of the language, at level 3 out of 6. Actually, doorstep probably feels about right. I can now talk to people in French, just not very well. And I screw up a lot, but it's alright. The only bummer is that I know if I could stay here longer...say a year, or two or three, I'd really be able to speak French. And when I leave in two months, I'll still be miles and miles (or kilomètres and kilomètres) away from there. But so be it.

Miraculously enough, I've made a few friends and we attempt to communicate in some tangle of French, English, Spanish, Italian and various other languages, depending on who's talking to whom. Most of them, like me, aren't planning to stay in Paris for forever (at least at the moment) so all these friendships will likely turn into the offer of couches and floors to sleep on in lots of different places all over the world, because they're a pretty voyaging bunch. So that's exciting.

And in other news, I miss you guys a lot, and send you lots of love and happy, sun-filled thoughts. And a few photos, too.

Are you sure you want to remove your connection to Nick Shepherd

That's what facebook asked me when I went to unfriend Nick. It was such a painful and unnecessarily confrontational question. Anyway, I couldn't handle my news feed anymore. The pictures from Vegas are going up. I can't tell which ones he's rolling in, but the alcohol is fairly obvious. I'm so sad. I'm so so sad. I suppose the time to get out of a relationship with an addict, or an immature douche (I'm not honestly sure which one he is) is when you first realize it, but I just hoped so hard that it wouldn't play out like this. It's so weird to try and navigate the logistics of breaking up with someone you lived with. He wants the apartment and I'm inclined to let him have it simply because I don't really want to live alone and I don't want to pay rent by myself. I don't know. It's all so full of suck. I'm really glad that my family lives so close and I'm really glad that I have a job that I love. I wish more of my friends were here. The four year old just called me and asked if I was coming in today. I told him that I didn't feel well (the truth) and that I didn't want to make him sick (also true but completely irrelevant to this particular situation). He then told me he was mad at me and gave the phone to his mom. It was completely adorable. And I look freaking awesome. For whatever reason the grief process makes my eyes pop and my skin looks amazing. I'm hoping that the looking fabulous and enjoying my day to day life will make things easier. It is super weird to be in the apartment without him though. My friend Rachel came and spend the night with me last night, which was really nice. I'm rambling. I'm sorry. I just wanted you guys to know. I miss you and I love you all so very much.

Hey all!

It is Saturday night and I am sitting in my living room, listening to music from the Glee soundtrack, smelling the turkey burgers Lynn is making. (I forgot about the broccoli and overcooked it, thereby ending my contribution to dinner tonight.) The cats are prowling around the apartment, chasing their tiny brightly colored rubber balls. It is pretty lovely and domestic all the the way around.

I have a week and a half left in the term and a metric ton of projects and tests left to do. All of my professors assigned "cumulative" projects that couldn't be started until we'd covered most of the material, which means that we heard about these giant projects last week. Fun times in SDEP land. We grouse a lot as a group, but we're getting it done. Next term I'll be student teaching at the same place I am now, but for twice as many hours per week. Only three courses next term, which I suspect will be nice. Then over the summer I plan to take a geography course (blah) and a sign language course (yay!) and work and cuddle the kitties. Then I'll have a whole year more left in my program. I can totally do this. (Rinse, wash, repeat as needed.) I can totally do this.

My mom is in Jamaica this week with her best friend from home, Eileen. And then she and I are going to MEXICO to see Lizzy, and I think that this is the only thing keeping me moving in the right direction. Poor Lynn will have to help me find a swimsuit, pack, send me to the airport and then be content to look at pictures and hear my wacky stories when I return. Good sweetie.

I love you all, and I hope that I'll see each one of you sooner rather than later. I'll be in Portland ALL summer long and still open for visitors!

-Essie