I leave for France in just a few days! Even though I am supposed to be packing and doing other productive type things to get ready for my trip, I find myself spacing out and day dreaming more than ever. I’ve compiled all of my day dreams into a sort of wish list for what life in France would be like.
- My French roommates look something like this:
I am living with two native French guys. One is named Nicolas and the other is Maxime. Nicolas is 21, was born in Lyon and is studying to become a wine lawyer. I don’t know what being a wine lawyer entails buuuuuut a change in major might be in my future if being a wine lawyer is even half as fun as it sounds.
My other roommate, Maxime, is 23, was born in Paris, and is studying political science.
In my perfect French world, Maxime, Nicolas, and I all become the best of friends…. and I maybe end up marrying one of them.
- I get a job in some sort of pastry shop. I am applying for a special visa so I will be able to get a job in France. Ideally, the shop would be run by a lonely old man or woman who would adopt me as a surrogate grandchild. I would come in for a few hours everyday, get to put on a cute apron, and learn how to make some delicious macaroons, croissants, calissons, and any other type of French sweet I haven’t discovered yet. Of course, my new surrogate French grandparent would constantly be offering me free baked goods and heart- warming conversation.
- I will have a French dinner family that has a little boy or girl I can adopt as my French sister or brother. My first choice would be that the family has a little girl. ( I already have a real brother and who needs those?) She would be seven and named Lily. She would be sassy, but still listen to me because I would be her cool, American older sister. If I can’t have a French little sister I’ll settle for a brother. He would be anywhere from the age of 4-8, be named Remi, and help me feed the family’s chickens in the morning. The second requirement of my French dream family is that they have chickens.
- I will become so well assimilated into French society that I will trick a local newspaper into thinking I’m French. I’ve not fully decided how this opportunity would present itself, but it would end with me being featured in a local article that cited me as a bonafide French resident. The top two scenarios are I get picked to be in some sort of fashion column, or I save a drowning cat and am named a local hero.
- A French boy will invite me to picnic in a lavender field with him. The day would be sunny, we would both be wearing vintage inspired sunglasses, and dine on multitudes of cheeses, breads, and wine.
- I become friends with the owners of the tattoo parlor next door to my apartment and they make me an honorary member of a Hell’s Angels type motorcycle gang. I forgot to mention that the apartment I share with my roommates is above a nightclub and next to a tattoo parlor.
Ladies, if you’ve ever wondered what your Dad looks like right before he is about to vomit, uttering the sentence “I’m living with two French boys above a nightclub and next to a tattoo parlor” should do the trick. Sit and watch in awe as waves of horror wash over his face.
Everything with my living situation is totally safe and fine, but dads will be dads.
I realize that most of this is nonsense, but I hope that at least little parts of all of these come true! Overall my hope for France is that I have as much interaction with French natives as possible and make some lifelong friends!
I’ve rethought number one. I actually hope Maxime and Nicolas are a bit more on the hefty side. That way there will be no judging when they inevitably have to watch me stuff myself with ungodly amounts of cheese and baked goods over the course of the semester.