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eyes wide open

"To study in Paris is to be born in Paris."
~Victor Hugo

updates on my life (because i’m still alive)

Basically, I’m in London.

And I’ve been chilling here since Christmas Eve. Or since 10 pm of Christmas Eve. Because easyjet decided to cancel a flight heading into London on Christmas Eve and stranded everyone in Charles de Gaulle for a good 10 hours. I’m over it.

Anyways, quick observations on the British/London:

  • Too much blond. Too much tall. It is near impossible to blend in amongst Brits when you’re short/Asian.

    (Unless, of course, I’m hiding amongst the ridiculously tall. Then I might as well be a spy with how much info I overhear.)

  • The Tube is shit. There are always sections of the Tube closed off because of planned engineering. There also always seems to be sections of the Tube closed off because of…I actually have no idea, but I’d rather not be informed of this mid-travel. Also, why is it so difficult to read the maps? If 1 line deviates into 2 different places at one station, can you please mark off better which platform leads to which place? 

  • I have never hated a currency as much as I hate the pound. Why would I even shop here if the prices are the same numerical value as American prices… but in pounds?

  • Though, I love the fashion. However, it is the fashion of those inured to the cold. In Paris, I would be on the metro, and nearly everyone will be in a wool coat and all in black. In London, I’m on the Tube, what I see: color… and then leather jackets, sweatshirts or just a sweater???

    Dear People Who Are too Cool for Actual Jackets: teach me your secrets, save me a fortune.

  • Judging just on the sheer availability of vintage shops here… but retro is in. (Well, this and the fashion.) And it’s not just girls going into these shops/boutiques… there are guys going in in equal ratios. 

  • Doctor Who is less prevalent than I expected. Sure, every souvenir stand makes sure to have Doctor Who merch, but it’s more like, “meh, Doctor Who…” Someone described it as being so British that it’s normal —> less rabid British fans. 

I would totally live in this city. 


One day, I will actually upload all my photos.

(On this same magical day, airlines will actually get their shit together.) 


Nothing makes me feel so patriotic than when I’m asked for my papers before I enter the CDG airport. And I just throw shade and hand over my passport.

Yeah, I’m not white, but I’m still American you asshole. 

early thanksgiving post

Basically, I plan on being tipsy/drunk around this time tomorrow, so I’m going to do this now. (Also, I’m feeling as these feelings right now, so now is the best time to do this.)

Being in France has basically taught me two things:

1) At this moment in my life, I know that I can’t do the expat thing and move my entire life indefinitely to France/any other country. I’m too American to consider it.

2) I have no idea how my parents moved their entire lives from the Philippines to the U.S. so that my brother and I could have a better life. 

I’ve been in Paris for all of three months and I get so homesick sometimes that (hands down) my favorite part of the day is the part where I can finally–finally speak English. Where I sometimes wander around the Latin Quarter with my other American friends just looking for the closest thing to American diner fare. Where I get so excited when I meet another American in Paris because yes, I can finally articulate this foreignness to someone who feels it just as deeply as I do, even if they’ve been here for decades.

And this is just me being in a cushy student abroad program for a minuscule amount of time with near non-existent financial troubles.

So yes.

Thank you for my parents for making a 25 year sacrifice. Thank you for 25 years of language barriers. Thank you for 25 years of people commenting about how foreign you are. Thank you for 25 years of having to drive for miles just to find a grocery store that maybe sells the ingredients you need to make the food you grew up with. Thank you for 25 years of being that foreigner working in this place.

And thank you for putting up with children who couldn’t even come close to understanding what you were feeling for 25 years.

And thank you for anyone else who did the same thing for their families. 

Paris was a universe whole and entire unto herself…

I’m leaving Paris in a month.

I don’t even know Paris yet.