Write after I wrote that last post, I stepped outside, I walked down la grande rue, got wished a bonne soirée by the woman who sold me flowers, yellow and wrapped tightly in cellophane. The Comédie was packed as always, full of excitement, full of people who want to do more exciting things than watch television in their living room each night. And my heart jumped up into my mouth and said, Don't leave. My plane ticket home may be a one shot deal, nonrefundable for May 19, but maybe, just maybe, I'll find a way back in Europe, permanently or otherwise.
Have you ever peeled the skin right off a boiled tomato? I just did, in preparation of the birthday festivities for Michéle, my host mom. It came right off with a quick slice of a knife.
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