Home Now.

I am back now. I ran out of money a week before my return to the states. I'd like to say that being homeless, broke and alone in Paris was romantic and added a certain layer of depth to my traveling experience. More likely though, it simply added a layer of dirt and a level of exhaustion that will surely seem more nostalgic once I've received a weeks worth of rest, a hot bath, a pedicure and a deep tissue massage. But, I survived. And survival is, after all, entirely the point. Henry Miller would be so proud.

In case you were wondering, the cold marble floor of Charles De Gaulle International isn't a particularly comfortable place to sleep. Standing in a phone booth outside of the Piere Lachaise cemetery on the phone with my mother, she told me about how as a child, just when she had turned her back for a second, I would be playing chicken in the middle of the highway with the cars. She feels like I am living my life in that same manner 20 something years later. So be it. It's strange when you realize how much you are the same person you were when you were young. Same plot, different characters. I gather you've plenty of evidence of my character at this point to view me as a mischievous child playing in the street.

I will be posting all my pictures and telling some back stories which include my ability to cook frozen pizza with a hair dryer among other interesting tid bits.

xo