Monday, January 10, 2011

Monday, January 10, 2011

Sitting in the quant hotel lobby at three am working. Watching my fellow students roll in from a night out on the soggy streets. Some had a great night and some had wished for a better outcome.

It was rainy. The first stop was a small little bar straight and then a right. We walking in with sponges for shoes and ready to dance.

French reggae music played in the background like a friendly reminder that somewhere 6,000 miles away people in my hometown where sharing a common beat.

A weird vibe had settled into the group tonight. Everyone wanted to drink together but be alone. Explore this beautiful city with a close friend and not attached to dislikes or sick stomachs.

Somehow the group fizzled out across town and left me with three lovely ladies looking for a good old slumber party.

A trip to the small grocery and six different cheeses later we where sneaking food into one of our rooms. Also, since eating and drinking was a sin in the hotel we had no knives, but we managed to key up a great solution.

It was warm. It was like I was 10 again. Whispering so no one could hear us thru the paper-thin walls, digging into Nutella, and sharing secrets about boys that surprisingly turned out to be of a different breed.

And now I sit in the quant hotel lobby. Dried out and more willing to work then I have in months. There was something about this town that made me feel like I was home again. A feeling that I had only really felt in summer’s spent with my family in Poland. I am genuinely happy…and wish that the one I love could join me.