Not meant to be

I'm just not meant to be Parisian. No matter what I'd like to believe, what I used to believe... It's just not in me.

Paris...is not that great. Paris is beautiful, certainly, but it is beautiful as any gilded surface is beautiful. Knock and it is clear that underneath the painted surface, there lies a broken, chipped surface. It reeks. Seriously. The people really don't wash over here, as I was appalled to smell out. There exists even to this day imperialistic prejudices and ignorance. It pisses the hell out of me everytime someone approaches me just because I'm Asian, when they follow me, trying to speak Japanese or Chinese to me. I just want to yell at them to just fuck off, or smile at them asininely as I ask with politesse en francais, "Oh, you speak Japanese? How nice. Me, I speak French" and just walk away. Everytime some weirdo approaches me in the bar and asks if I'm Japanese or Chinese, blah blah, it's like, sure it's flattering, but at the same time, are you just hitting on me because I'm Asian? What the fuck. And the men here. Ugh, what "men"? It's like they're still all stuck in the mentality of pubescent teenagers. Honestly, grown, 20-something men who have no idea what the fuck to do in male/female encounters, who just say shit and commit immense faux pas right and left-- this is where the world calls "The City of Love and Romance"? Where the men are supposed to be suave and sweep me off my feet? Yeah, right. They'd be hardpressed to even...I can't even think of an insult.

I'm just kind of disappointed. Perhaps I had high expectations, perhaps I just retain high standards after having seen plenty of different cities. But really, Seoul is way better. Give me a plane ticket to Seoul any day. I've had almost enough of Paris.

I just can't wait to go back home. Not home in the physical sense, but home in the emotional, mental sense. Home that means my family and my friends. Home that means goofing off till all hours of the night, talking about the stupidest things, cooking, baking, singing karaoke, dancing, studying, throwing snow, just...being with all of my friends. I never laughed so hard in Paris as I do each time I Skype with my second family of my friends. Maybe Paris would be better with them here. Yeah, it would. But I'd spend time with them in Ann Arbor, anyday. God, I miss them.

And I miss good food. It's amazing how much the French can fuck up Asian food. I'm afraid to even try. It's not ever worth the money; it's so expensive-- more so than any other kind of cuisine in France. Haha. I'm complaining because of food, but it's true. Food is important to me.

You know what? I miss hugging. Bisous, my ass. I don't want to rub faces with anyone but my boyfriend. Well, him and my friends and family, of course. But hugging...nobody does that in France. Maybe that's why I feel so stressed sometimes-- I don't release nearly enough endorphins in Paris because of a lack of hugging. A really good one from Brian sounds nice. Haha. But yeah...

I can't wait to go back. Which is so bad, you know? Because my family is practically breaking its back to send me on this trip and because of my self-centered, selfish unhappiness, I can't even enjoy my money's worth. Even if I weren't so disappointed, I don't have the time. Everyday, after school, I'm just exhausted. School ends so late that we can barely make it to any museums anyway. And to be honest, one can only go to so many museums for so long. On the weekends, I'm bogged down with work and reading that I never did during the week because a) there wasn't enough time, b) I was so tired, and c) they never give us our readings on time, anyway, so the weekend is the only time we can do it. I don't like going out on the weekends, either, because there are just so many damn tourists. That is one thing I can sympathize about with Parisians-- if there were constantly this many tourists everywhere I turned, I'd be damn pissed too-- heck, I already am.

Like I said...Paris is awesome. But I've seen better. And I have better. So why would I want to degrade?

Only three more months. Should I be sad or glad? To keep up appearances, I should look sad, but inside...I'd be jubilant. *sigh*