The first 5 hours in Paris

I think I should preface this little bout of narrative by saying that Brooke, Lindsey, and I absolutely adored Paris. While I think we all were equally excited to go there, I particularly was a little wary of it, simply because I had heard various things about smelly streets and snobby Parisians. During our brief romance with City of Light, however, we had a nearly entirely enchanting experience.  

I say "nearly" not because we had any kind of Barcelona-esc trauma, but rather because our first evening excursion in Paris, after a quick flight and a long taxi ride, was so incredibly comical. 

While there is no photographic evidence of the first part of this story time, I can supply one iconic image to pretty much summarize what occurred within our first hour of wandering the airy Summer streets of Paris: 

Being infected by an Airborne Toxic Event

To begin, it is important that you fall madly, deeply, forever in love with the incredible band The Airborne Toxic Event immediately. The quickest way to make that happen is to click below and listen to the best song ever (I don't exaggerate): 

Good ol' USA

There is no question that I am a wee-bit obsessed with Europe (hence my degree emphasis in European Studies). I'm afraid that I must admit this obsession sometimes clouds my appreciation of my own country. I live in San Diego, California and it is therefore kind of my job to just take for granted the fantastic place I live (I apologize to the rest of the country, as I sit writing this in a breezy café, while the temperature drifting through the open windows is a perfect 85º).  

California isn't the only great state in our oversized country either; as I've mentioned before I'm also a huge fan of Oregon. Having been to this state maybe a dozen times previous, when we went this past summer I feared we may have run out of things to be awed by. 

This was not the case: we found big foot and solved the scientific mystery of the ages.

The answer to life, the universe, and everything

About a week ago, Nicole and I got into a very enthusiastic and emphatic conversation about, well, everything. While I know the answer to life, the universe, and everything is 42, sometimes having the solution doesn't prevent me from just having these moments where I abstractly think about existence on its most fundamental level, which, to be honest, only makes life that much more mind boggling. Though I know I'm not the only one on earth having these dramatic thoughts of "BUT WHAT IS LIFE?!", it's not a subject that comes up on a daily basis. So having this little chat with Nicole was somewhat calming, in that it reminded me that I am not the only one sitting around being completely confounded by the world. 

We talked about a lot of different things, but eventually our conversation turned back to where it originated, which is, essentially, why the hell are people fighting all the time? This may seem like a naive question, but really, I just don't get it. The whole cliché "world peace" thing was basically our answer and desire. In an ideal world, people would flourish and create without the conflict of religion, economy, race, power, opinion, etc, etc, etc. We could just be, and as an individual, isn't that all we really want? To be alive. However, that is most definitely not how the world works, for it is far more complicated. 

In this ideal world, the goals of the organization established to figure out the whole "world peace" thing, also known as, the United Nations, would reign true:

• To keep peace throughout the world;
• To develop friendly relations among nations;
• To help nations work together to improve the lives of poor people, to conquer hunger, disease and illiteracy, and to encourage respect for each other’s rights and freedoms;
• To be a centre for harmonizing the actions of nations to achieve these goals.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

"My life isn't perfect, but it does have perfect moments."

To be fair, you don't need much cheering up while you're galavanting around Europe, living the life. Still, I have been thinking a lot about how exceptionally lucky I am to have wonderful people in my life that can make me laugh until I cry, even when I maybe only want to cry. On top of that, it is only becoming clearer how true it is that we don't always remember the exact details of our lives, but we do remember the moments that made us smile the most. 

When Brooke, Lindsey, and I were in Geneva we did a lot of things, but what I remember most vividly, was the afternoon we spent doing nothing but frolicking through this one incredible and ginormous park (which Google informed me is called the Parc de l'Ariana).