A is for...au revoir.

I'm sure I have single handedly annoyed every single person who will still listen to me (or who I can cajole into reading an unsuspecting text) with my babble about how amazing Paris is. And I stand by that fact. This post is not a retraction of my undying love for the City of Love, nor is it a public apology for my incessant gushing about how astounding it is. Instead, I have decided to take this opportunity to share with everyone just exactly what it is that makes me love Paris.

Yes, Paris is breathtakingly beautiful in every aspect, from its alluring historical buildings that seamlessly transition into high fashion stores to its charming atmosphere that reeks of love. But that's not what really draws me to this city. What really consumes me about Paris are the little things. All of the small moments that turned to memories before I knew it. All of the perfect strangers who I met in the JKB basement that weaseled their way into my heart. All of the metro rides, arts classes and endless chateau visits. These are the things that make Paris my number one.

As I sit here on my last night in Paris, my emotions a jumble of aching sadness for leaving, excitement for getting home, and frustration over packing, it seems only fitting for me to recount some of those small things that changed Paris from a destination to an experience. I'm not going to number them, because I can't. I literally cannot. Counting the number of things that turned 3 months into a blink of an eye and an eternity at the same time would be as easy as counting the stars (or the number of crepes I ate here). But I can't think of a better way to spend my dwindling hours here than to reflect on what exactly happened here to change my life.

• Listening to that stupid kitten on the plane ride here
• Being assured that there would always be a place to stop for a sandwich
• Knowing there would always be an ibis nearby
• Realizing that Kailey and I actually were [handicapped] outcasts and got our own wing in the hotel
• Taking French alongside the nuns
• Shamelessly eating our weight in Haribo
• Getting lost on Erickson’s walks
• Constantly explaining to people that Mormons aren’t polygamists (and that they actually can eat fast food)
• Realizing the dead spider in my room wasn’t dead, but pregnant
• Eating so much fish
• Talking about the Maze Runner at every dinner with our host mom
• Always going to Trocadero
• Cooking pasta on those [few] nights we went home without eating
• Having “French” bread and cheese picnics at the Eiffel Tower where we were all obviously American
• Eating half a plate of food before trading Kailey for her half eaten plate
• Learning that Nixon is dead
• Realizing there are more stairs
• Laughing when that bad day finally ended
• Owning metro line 10
• Writing hashtag notes all throughout class
• #thatssoibis
• #lexinilson
• #notpossible
• Realizing that “our crepe guy” actually had our order memorized
• Discovering that it was actually possible to survive without grocery shopping
• Learning what a persimmon is—and that they need to be eaten when ripe
• Sneaking into the tube in London when my Oyster card decided to stop working
• Going out to the bar on Halloween and ordering water
• Meeting Fabian
• Deciding that hostels are not the place for me (or Kailey)
• Realizing all of my dreams were coming true at the Harry Potter studio
• Panicking every time someone came up to me on the street to ask me a question
• Never knowing which metro exit to take
• Noticing that my tampons had been pick-pocketed on the metro
• Eating Indian food
• Not eating Indian food
• “J'aime beaucoup beaucoup fatigue"
• Listening to Spotify instead of the audio guides
• Wondering how it’s possible for my room to always be dirty (#notpossible)
• Confusing people with our arts cards and getting in for free
• Knowing it would be a luke-warm shower when the shower faucet was already turned all the way hot after Lauren got out
• Pretending to drink the tea Kailey and I got for free
• Ice skating on the Champs-Elysées
• Celebrating my (and Lauren's) birthday at the Eiffel Tower
• Discovering stroopwafel and Dutch fries
• Making it home for Thanksgiving when the trains went on strike
• Having random dance parties--on the Champs, on the metro, on top of a castle
• Selfie-ing literally everywhere
• Forgetting where all our selfies were taken
• Listening to all of the words pouring from Sister LeBras’s spitfire mouth
• Collectively pleading the 5th when Bernie realized Maddie was no longer in class
• Knowing Tucker would always be late
• Penguin huddling when the weather turned against us
• Accidentally finding the best fast food chain in Paris (and never knowing what language to order in)
• Wondering where Mitch went
• Mass-murdering phone chargers
• Loving Lauren (and Kailey) for keeping my phone alive
• Realizing that I’ll probably live in a box winter semester
• Cuddling the heater and chowing down on pretzels while our nursery kids entertained themselves
• Deciding that stopping in to Paul for mini beignets was always necessary
• Fearlessly bartering with the scary keychain guys
• Laughing at everyone’s snapchat stories
• Crying at everyone’s blog posts
• Discovering that Kay is always right, Maddie always takes perfect pictures, and Lexi is always filming
• Learning that Africa is indeed a continent
• Finally having a day where everything went right
• Going home on that last night to realize that the power was out
• Deciding our host family probably got murdered and the murderer cut the power
• Watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle at night with my Laur
• Doing literally everything with my Kailey(oiselle)
• Realizing there is no place I would rather be
• Knowing there are no people I would rather be with

I applaud you for finishing that list. I know I'm not the first in our group to make a post like this (or even the second or third) and those of you not in my study abroad group probably only understand a handful of those things, but that list isn't for you guys. It's for me. So I can remember just exactly what it was that I loved so much about Paris. What it was that changed me and helped me to figure out who I want to be. 

So I'm sorry to all those who wanted something funny, or sentimental, or informational, but I just can't do that right now. Right now all I can think about are those great times I had in Paris (otherwise I will start sobbing), and take comfort in knowing that these memories will always be there, and that the best part of this experience is coming back to BYU with me. All of you who experienced those memories with me. Who laughed with me. Who cried with me. Who suffered with the language with me. You mean so much to me and I'm thankful for each and every one of you. I am so glad I will get to see you all next semester (yes, even you Maddie--shout out to Idaho! Holla!) and I swear, if you go get Indian without me and Kailey, well let's just there will be "consequences."

But for now, I must say au revoir to Paris and try to mentally prepare myself for a semester with real classes and no crepe stands.

Bisous.

[Photo cred to Alex Pynes! (Sorry, I stole this off Facebook...but it's my favorite!) Thanks bb!]

Don't cry because it's over,

smile because it happened

A is for...a day in the life.

The other day my dad and I were talking (well, emailing back and forth) and he mentioned us living in different worlds. I laughed as I responded that I was fairly certain that we still live in the same world. To this, he responded "I live in the real world and I'm pretty sure that you live in a fairy tale." To be fair, he's kind of right. Sometimes I feel as though I am living in a fairy tale. This opportunity to live in France has been incredible and I feel so lucky to be able to

participate in the study abroad program. However, while this experience is unforgettable, I don't think people quite understand what it's like to live abroad. To most, it simply sounds like I am on a 3 month vacation, and while sometimes it does feel like that, real life still happens here.

When I am FaceTiming or emailing my family and friends, they ask me what I have done that day or what I am planning on doing, anticipating an answer full of wonder and excitement. But the truth is, often times my answer is something along the lines of "Oh, we just hung out today" or "I don't know, I'll probably watch some Netflix for awhile." I sometimes feel guilty when I give answers like that as if somehow I am wasting my time here in Paris and I need to constantly be doing interesting Parisian things. But the truth is, that's exhausting. I tried that for awhile, believe me. It was constantly go, go, go, go, go. The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Seine, the Arc de Triomph, get up early, stay out late. But after a few weeks, the "honeymoon" stage wears off and real life starts again. So for all of you people out there asking the million dollar question--What's it like to live in Pars?--I'm going to tell you. The boring, brutally honest truth of what it is like to actually live here.

Waking up. Yep. It sucks just as bad here as it did back in the States. I told myself that when I got all messed up with jet lag that I was going to become an early riser. What a perfect opportunity to shake my bad habit of wanting to sleep in until 11 every day, right? Yeah, no. That did not happen. Sometimes I get the pleasure of sleeping in til 10, but often times I find myself up earlier than that for class (because after all, this is STUDY abroad, not PLAY abroad). After convincing myself that it is absolutely necessary to leave my bed, I go downstairs to the generous breakfast supplied by my host family--cereal. I actually love cereal, so I'm not going to complain about that, but I am going to complain about the milk. I'm not a huge milk person so I really can't complain about the taste because I honestly can't tell a difference. BUT, I do not think that it is normal for milk to not need to be refrigerated. Or for it to be good until March of next year.That just can't be good. Vive le France. 

Some mornings Lauren and I head out for a refreshing run through the gorgeous Bois de Boulogne. Other mornings we doggedly hike to the metro to get to a mind-numbingly boring class. And other mornings, I crawl back in to bed and watch some Netflix because I have nowhere to be and nowhere I'd rather be.

I really can't complain too much about class here. The workload is astoundingly light in comparison to classes back on campus. Plus, one class is simply walking through Paris--hands down the best class I will probably ever take. However, I am not going to pretend like I enjoy going to art or sitting through two hour religion lectures, and definitely not writing formal analyses on paintings that I really just don't care about (okay, that's only happened once but it was death). I thought it was bad doing homework in Provo, but it's ten times worse in Paris! I know that sounds so bratty of me, but in Provo, homework is such a normal thing. It's expected, and such a great excuse to get out of FHE. But when you live in Paris, you don't want to miss out on ice skating on the Champs Elysées because you had to do homwork! School is going to kill me back in Provo.

Whether it's after class or just when I finally decide to leave my house, I always end up "in the city" for the afternoon. I technically live right outside of Paris (as do most of the people in our group) so we all try to make it into Paris during the day to hang out and complete our walks. That's what happens most often. Walks. Like I mentioned earlier, I have a class that is a Francophone culture class and we have a book full of "walks" that we have to complete to help us get to know the city. They're actually super helpful and most of them are fun too. We are required to blog them (or keep some kind of written record) so if you want to read about all of the walks, they're on the Bonjour Paris page of my blog. The walks only take an hour or two so afterwards we usually go for macarons or gelato or crepes or whatever we are feeling like that day.

On the days that I don't do walks (I've finished them so now that's most every day) or sometimes after a walk, it's just free reign of Paris. Sometimes that means strolling through the Christmas market on the Champs Elysées and wishing I had more money. Other times it means paying a visit to the Louvre because it's much more enjoyable when you're not there for class (there I go sounding ungrateful again). Now and then it means Angelina hot chocolate and people watching in the Tuileries. Or stopping by Shakespeare and Company and admiring their beautiful books. But whether it's climbing the Arc de Triomphe or simply souvenir shopping, it's always a good time--not because of where we are, but because of who we are with. When you live in a foreign country and are basically incapable of speaking to people, it's easy to get really close with those few people who do speak English (aka my study abroad group and the American nannies and English teachers from the YSA).

Usually tiredness sets in around 5 or 6 and because I don't live in Paris and can't easily stop home for quick nap, that means I'm heading home for the night. Most people my age don't understand that, because, for them, the day doesn't even start until 7 or 8. But participating in the "nightlife" sounds a lot more sketchy when I can't communicate with those around me. Plus, our walks book conveniently leaves out where to find the best clubs. Most days I am more than happy to go in for the night. That means I get to settle in with my Haribo and catch up with the rest of the world via Facebook. It's also nice because it is around this time that everyone back home is getting up and going for the day so I can reconnect to wifi and communicate with friends and family.

Three nights a week (Sunday, Monday and Tuesday), Lauren and I eat dinner with our host family. Besides having an unhealthy obsession with preparing fish, my host mom is a pretty decent cook. (I've even started liking fish a tiny bit). Dinner is always a four course occasion. We start off with fruit or vegetables. Grapefruit or avocado, maybe. We then move on the the main course which is most of the time meat with a side of rice or vegetables. Then on to the Frenchiest of the courses-bread and cheese. I honestly love bread and cheese. It is one of the things I will miss most about France. Then on to dessert. At first they always had ice cream or something sweet for us, yet they always ate fruit. We made a comment one day that we wouldn't mind eating fruit for dessert too and I guess they took that as an invitation to stop buying ice cream and mousse. It's good though! Fruit is delicious here! Although I could do without seeds in my grapes. But oh well, I probably need to eat fruit instead of sugary sweets to balance out the junk eat during the day!

A few weeks ago, our host family decided they were only going to speak French at dinner to help us progress with our own French. That made dinner a little bit less pleasurable. As if they didn't think we were stupid enough by not being able to explain why the drinking age in America is 21, we're expected to do so in French. Yeah, dinners have gotten a lot quieter lately.

On the days that we don't eat with our host family, Lauren and I will sometimes make pasta or else run across the street to the small market and buy fresh fruit. And then there are those days when that bag of Haribo is going to have to do. (I promise I eat more than enough here). And sometimes there are actually nights when we don't get exhausted and decide to go out together and grab dinner together.

After dinner it's time to crack down on that homwork....or more often, time to crack down on Netflix because that is obviously the better choice. And then even though I tell myself every day that I am going to go to bed early, it's usually midnight or later when I finally put away my computer and get some sleep! And then the next day it starts all over again.

So there you have it, in an obnoxiously long blog post, that is what it is like to live in Paris. Not as glamorous as you think, but definitely nothing to complain about! Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to ignore work on my art final. Bisous!

A is for...angleterre.

I wish I could perfectly sum up all of the thoughts and feelings that have been running through my mind and body over here on my hiatus to Europe, but I just cannot find the appropriate words. So the way I see it, I have two options. Either I commence a rigorous study session of the dictionary, or else, I allow OneRepublic to take the reigns on this one. Because who doesn't love finding a song that describes their life perfectly?

"Woke up in London yesterday

Found myself in the city, near Piccadilly

Don't really know how I got here"

Okay, so maybe I actually do know how I got to London (obviously I took The Chunnel) but at the same time, how did I get to London? It was only a year ago that I was sitting in class, doing my best to tune out listen to my professor, wondering how I was going to get from Utah to Idaho for Thanksgiving. And now all of the sudden I'm in EUROPE? No. That can't be possible. (#notpossible). Never mind getting from Paris to London....How did I get from farmland and small towns to bright lights and metros?

"I got some pictures on my phone

New names and numbers that I don't know

Addresses to places like Abbey Road"

Fast forward from last Thanksgiving to last March. At this point, I was signed up to come study here in Paris and was sitting in my study abroad prep class, looking around at a room full of strangers (literally STRANGE), wondering how on earth I was ever going to survive. But seriously, I couldn't have handpicked a more perfect group to share this experience with. From the minute we landed here in France, we have been a family (pardon the cheesy, yet completely accurate cliche). Whether it's struggling to order a crepe in French or tripping on the [beautiful] cobblestone roads, there are the lovliest people right beside me who have done the exact same thing. And at the end of the day, when I open Instagram and see the photos my newest friends have posted--with or without me--I can't help but be overwhelmed with gratitude for such wonderful people to share this experience with.

"Day turns to night, night turns to whatever we want

We're young enough to say

Oh, this has gotta be the good life"

The good life. That's exactly what I think every time I round the corner and see the Eiffel Tower looming above me. It's what I think every time I discover a new pastry at the shop around the corner. It's what I think every time the nuns in my French class burst into laughter at someone's miserable attempt at speaking the language. Every time I see the guy at the crepe stand smile because he sees me coming for my third crepe that week. Every time I see the bridges full of locks, each representing a couple madly in love with each other. Every time my host parents give me another [french] book about the places I should visit. Every time I eat a macaron. Every time I drink Angelina hot chocolate. 

And that is all I could think of as I looked down at the Thames last weekend in London, blue skies above me, great friends beside me, and another incredible city around me. 

I know the title tricked you into reading this post, promising to be about England (Angleterre, in French). A blog post about a magical place where everyone speaks the same language as me. Where they have turkish delight (which by the way, is good enough that I would definitely join an evil queen for it). Where there are bright red telephone booths and double-decker busses. But if given the opportunity to tell you about my favorite moment in London, it wouldn't be the performance of Les Miserables that we went to at the Queen's Theater--even though it was literally chilling. Nor would it be the Warner Brothers Studio Tour, where I got to see the sets, costumes and props from the filming of Harry Potter (not to mention RIDE A NIMBUS 2000)--even though I'm pretty sure that was the day that all of my dreams came true. No, my absolute favorite moment from London was without a doubt, the moment, standing on Westminster Bridge, looking down into the [disgustingly dirty] Thames River, and realizing just how good life really is.

I can't explain what it was, but in that moment, the past rushed forward, the present stood still, and the future drew near, coming together into one perfect moment of clarity. In that moment, I was reminded of all of my favorite memories from the past. The simple ones, like playing in a pile of leaves with my siblings, eating fresh picked peas with my dad, and reading books with my mom.

In that moment, the potential offered by my future became clear. My mind took off in a whirlwind of thoughts for what school was going to be like next semester and the semesters after that. Thinking about all of the people I would get to meet. All of the things I want to do The silly things. Like having a Harry Potter movie marathon with my roommates. Like having a French party with my study abroad group where we make crepes and greet each other with a kiss on the cheek. 

And it was in that moment when I realized just how much of a gift the present really is. I was literally jealous of myself for having such a great life. Not just because I was in London, taking a vacation from Paris, might I add. But because I get to experience this beautiful world that was created for us. Because I literally have the best family on this planet. Because I get to love and be loved. Because the sun comes up every single day. Because the leaves change color in the fall. Because snow creates a glistening wonderland in the winter. Because the trees always blossom again in the spring. Because even the smallest of things give me reason to smile. 

I truly hope that I haven't bored you to tears making you read about how I literally have nothing to complain about. Because that wasn't the point. The point of me writing this post wasn't to gloat about just how good my life is, but to illustrate just how good life is. You don't need to be in Paris or London to find something good about your life. You just have to take a look around and I promise that you will find something. It isn't the big things that make life worth living. It's not the extravagant vacations or the newest iPhone. It's not the things we have countdowns for. The things that make life good are the little things that happen every day that we tend to look over. But when it's all said and done, all of those seemingly meaningless things will come together to create a good life, and I don't want you to have to come all the way to England to realize that like I did (although it's not a bad place to come to that realization).

Because after all, "THIS HAS GOTTA BE THE GOOD, GOOD LIFE."