All Good Things Must Come to an End

And it’s time to go home.

= )

After a year of nothingness, I’m goin back to France…

Anxious Anticipation

I can’t believe I’m going back to France. Just a few days… and few more boxes to unpack before I fill my suitcases with the required attire for Camarat. I will be not only in the South, though – first, two days in Paris. Two days to explore the city, see the people I love, meet new family I’ve heard so much about.

And then my return to the magical place of Camarat…


The world is conspiring for me. Everything is falling into place. Even my computer at work – out of nowhere – has starting making announcements in French… a phenomenon that cannot be explained by our fabulous office manager (Carrie) or our awkward network guy (Ryan).

Perhaps it’s God’s way of saying, “It’s about time you go back!”
At least, I’d like to think so…

Welcome to Slummerville

What a shithole.

This is my new apartment — a mold infested, stinky, first-floor four room dump in a 100+ year-old building in a crummy neighborhood in Slummerville. Here I was, showing my mother my new home — the place I’m supposed to be proud of — and she couldn’t even speak. But don’t worry, voices were heard.

There was a drunk homeless man screaming as he walked past the place.

I later said I’d never have people over. How bad is that? It’s just too gross. I’m ashamed of where I live.

I don’t get it; I’m sure this wasn’t this bad when I picked it out two months ago. Of course, the abandoned building next door looked like someone had been on a long vacation and forgot to mow the lawn… vegetation hadn’t yet creeped into the windows. It had a backyard where Tequila could poop and a garden… I just didn’t notice the back window that provided a clear view of the bathroom. And the tenants clearly didn’t clean the floor or food-stained walls in months. Yuck.

As we commute from home this week, I can’t help but feel defeated. I went from a fantastic, historic and beautiful apartment on Mass Ave in Cambridge, with tree lined streets leading to Harvard, to a shitty place in the one town I never thought I’d inhabit — SLUMMERVILLE. A voice in my head keeps asking, “What have I done?” and “Can I get out of this?”

Answer: “No.”

Good thing I believe in making the best out of things.