Je tiens à toi

Rosie vous a envoyé un message (7)

Je t’aime mon amour ❤

Prudence, hein !!


Ecoute pas ta musique trop fort dans le métro !

Et fais attention à tes environs 🕵🏽🕵🏽🕵🏽

Ecris-moi quand t’es arrivé à la station et puis quand t’es arrivé au boulot stp

Je t’aime trop Thomas ❤



Des histoires à raconter

COUCOU !!!! Ouais je sais, ça fait un bail…mais je suis revenue, et avec des nouvelles histoires à raconter.  Alors là, je suis en train de finir mon tout dernier semestre à la fac, enfin, pour undergrad.  La remise de diplômes, c’est en décembre, et Thomas vient aux États-Unis pour y assister.  C’est qui Thomas ? Bahhh, c’est mon mec ça 🙂  Fini les fuck boys ! Fini le heartbreak ! J’embarque sur une nouvelle aventure: l’amour, pur et vrai.

Je vous expliquerai tout dans un autre poste, mais pour l’instant, voici quelques photos de cet été à Paris (et ailleurs).


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Tout le monde te croyait disparue, mais tu es revenue !

Yes, hello, bonjour, I’m still alive and well.  More than well – I’m in Paris again.  If that wasn’t already incredible, I was here doing an internship with the United States Embassy.  La classe !  I started the internship around the end of March, and I finished the internship about three weeks ago, AND I don’t go home until the end of July, donc….c’est plus ou moins les vacances pour moi maintenant 🙂  And let me tell you, j’en profite, my friend.  Oh yes.

Let’s see, what have I been up to?  Well, tons.  Should I just make one big master post for the month of June?  Or make one for each thing I’ve done, but go into more detail (with more pictures bien sûr)?  Aucune idée, so we’ll just see how this post turns out.  As usual, I haven’t exactly chosen a topic for this post (never do), but I can guarantee you, it will contain amazing pictures (yea, I said it), boy talk, et aussi un peu de français.  C’est parti !

I’d like to introduce you to the new (and improved?) Pont des Arts:




This next picture pretty much sums up my thoughts on this whole situation:



They did leave us some on both ends of the bridge by the stairs though. *praying hands emoji*


BOYS.  I’ve met quite a few boys this time around in Paris.  Some were relentless and super lourds, but there are a couple who I get on really well with, and one in particular who, get this, made me realize that Mathieu wasn’t all that.  No hate to Mathieu, I had an incredibly lovely time with him last spring, but I’m glad I’ve found others who…put my relationship with him into perspective, I guess.  Naive never-had-a-boyfriend-before Rosie thought Mathieu was the best thing that had ever happened and was absolutely heartbroken when she left him behind in Paris.  She is so happy to say that she was entirely wrong.

Unfortunately, even the good ones can really make me want to stab myself in the eyes and rip my hair out.  Without going into too much detail, during this séjour à Paris, I am, once again, learning so much about myself.  I’ll admit, it’s hard to say no to boys who aren’t treating you the way you deserve to be treated when they are French, et du coup, effortlessly sexy.  It has to be done though.  I am a Queen – treat me like one.

Also, can I just say – how do I always manage to start relationships with guys who have really weird and unconventional jobs that take up almost all of their time???  A baker, a I-don’t-really-know-what, and a self-employed journalist.  I know they’re busy but, hey, I like you…I want to spend time with you before I peace out back to America.  Yes, I’m coming back to Paris in a year, but I doubt anything will carry over to then, so let’s fucking profite ! (Pardon my French..English).

I’ve also made some great friends this time – some French, some not, but we all speak French 🙂
















Okay I’m getting tired now so I guess this is where this post is ending lol.  Stay tuned for the next one 🙂


Je t’ai rien envoyé.

Tu pleurais.  Le jour où on s’est dit au revoir, tu pleurais.  Mais c’était plutôt un adieu, non ?  Moi j’ai rien remarqué sur le pont là.  La seule pensée que j’avais dans la tête c’était “C’est bon, il pleure comme moi.”  Parce que si tu pleures, je vaux quelque chose de sérieux.  Toute notre histoire, c’était vraiment quelque chose de special.  La validation dont j’avais besoin était là dans tes larmes.  Putain, mon coeur, il ne s’est jamais senti autant d’émotion, et surtout pas pour un mec.  Mais toi…

Mais toi.

Je t’ai rien envoyé, ma Rosie.

Le lendemain, t’es mort.  Et après neuf mois, je me suis enfin permis de l’accepter.  Dès que je suis partie, je savais.  J’ai juste compris trop tard…


Well, if a miracle occurs within the next eight days, I shall be settling into my apartment in Paris as you turn your calendars from February to March.  You know when everything’s going really well, and you’re almost afraid to be happy because you feel as though maybe you’re not entirely deserving of all of this happiness, and you’re convinced that something must go wrong for balance to be restored to the world?  That’s me right now.  Who knew being a well-traveled 20-year-old with dual citizenship could ever be a disadvantage, eh?

While I anxiously await this long overdue security clearance, here are some photos of the Parisian life I was living last year and that I hope to be living again very soon.

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Métro. Boulot. Dodo.

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Can you tell I had a cold?

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One of my favorite sights.  Everything in this picture.

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Tame Impala!

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So happy.

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While living in Paris last year, I went to Morocco with my family when they came to visit me between semesters.  I’m definitely going back to Morocco as soon as I can.  It’s a beautiful city with beautiful people.  They’re so welcoming – and it’s not fake.  They are genuinely interested in you and where you come from.  They love to show you what their daily life is like.  They love to take you away from the touristy stuff and invite you into their homes for mint tea and biscuits.  They treat you as a good friend, and those are the kind of people you want to meet while traveling.

Everywhere you turn there’s an amazing opportunity for another beautiful photo.




It’s so incredibly easy to get lost in the maze of narrow winding streets that are the back alleys of Marrakech, but it’s cool because it kind of makes you feel like an explorer.  I suggest dedicating an entire day to exploring the back streets (although you won’t have even scratched the surface after one day).  Don’t forget the essentials – comfortable shoes, a bottle of water, and most importantly, your camera.






The building in which we stayed was absolutely gorgeous and we were treated like royalty.  This was clearly a place where tourists stayed, but it was amazing nonetheless.




I really enjoyed photographing this city because it’s  full of color.  Quite different from the Parisian winter I had left behind.




Rooftop café with my beautiful mother.



A visit to the Ben Youssef Medersa Islamic College.


This mosque is exclusively reserved for the muslim religious practice. (Private) Thank you.





Making friends.




The orange pressée is beyond delicious.  Regular (American) orange juice didn’t cut it before, and now it definitely doesn’t.


Yes, those are mountains in the background!




This shot of the two boys on the rooftop is one of my favorite shots from this trip.










We were on a mission to buy one of these gorgeous handmade rugs, but got side-tracked.  The lovely woman gave us a free lesson on how she makes them.  Very complicated.  Props to her for doing that all day every day.



Leaving early in the morning to catch our flight back to Paris.

Morocco was very good to us.



I’ve been thinking about starting up a fashion blog because, sometimes, I really like my outfits.  As I’ve already got this blog running, I’ve decided to pepper in some fashion posts here and there – starting with this one.  Yesterday, Doug and I ran around this festive outdoor mall on the east side of Michigan and messed around with my camera.  Below are the results.





The countdown to Paris is currently at a month and a half.  Can’t wait to have the city of lights as my background for these posts and also can’t wait to write posts on my daily life while interning there!  Hope everyone’s keeping warm – have a lovely end of the year and an even better start to the new year.

Coat – Maison Scotch

Shirt – JC Penny

Jeans – Allsaints Spitalfields

Shoes – Timberland

Bag – Longchamp

Thanks to Doug for taking all of these!  If you’re a user of Tumblr or Instagram, go give him a follow!

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Garde le pour toi.

Ça fait longtemps, hein ?  It was midterm time and so the past month I’ve been busier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.  I’ve missed blogging!  Anyway here’s a (somewhat funny) story for you:

One day after class, Elena and I were wandering around near Etienne Marcel looking for a place to eat dinner.  We turned down an alley and came across this café – everyone was seated outside à la terrasse.  We weren’t really feeling the outside seating that evening so we hesitantly walked inside, not sure whether there was some unspoken rule known by all Parisians that stated that inside seating was only available between certain hours.  We grabbed a spot next to the window.  While browsing the menu, I happened to notice we had company.  This little guy…


Five minutes of picture taking with our new friend and still no one had come to take our order.  It was a small café so it wasn’t like the waiters couldn’t see us – there were literally 10 feet separating us from the bar where they were all gathered.  We had even made eye contact with a few of them, but still none of them came over to our table.  Feeling intimidated and quite aware that we were the only customers seated inside the café, we decided that instead of getting up and calling a waiter over, we would just get up quietly and leave as quickly as possible.  We gave the cat one last cuddle and peaced out.  We were so humiliated – how un-parisian.

I guess you could say we gained back some cool points since we were on our way to Art Corpus (tattoo & piercing parlor) to get Elena’s nose pierced.  I followed her to the back of the shop and watched the guy clean out her nose, and finally put in the piercing.  It suits her.  Nose piercings only suit some people – she’s one of them.




It’s a shame we were too lame to stick it out at that café.  The menu looked amazing.  Instead we ended up getting some shitty Asian food from a sketchy buffet style restaurant round the corner.  Totally would’ve rather eaten with le petit chat.




Les larmes de la Seine

Qui sautent à mes pieds

Y arrivent à peine

Mais toujours elles essayent.


Une heure passe,

Deux heures, trois heures.

Finalement je me lève

Et je joue le flâneur.


Sans le savoir

La nuit est arrivée.

On se rejoint à Hôtel de Ville,

J’arrive te chercher.


Une tasse de chocolat chaud

Trop épaisse, trop forte.

On ajoute la chantilly,

On devient chimiste en quelque sorte.


Ok j’en peux plus.

Comme c’est dégueulasse.

J’ai juste envie d’une cigarette

Après tout, on s’est assise sur la terrasse.


Un café et une clope

Ça c’est la France.

Avec une vue sur la tour

Merde, on a vraiment de la chance.


Puis c’est du vin,

J’enlève une deuxième cigarette.

Je fume et je bois,

Un rideau de fumée devant la tête.


Une taffe finale,

Sors les tickets restaurants.

Allez, on y va

Direction les Champs.


Ils nous disent que “fumer tue”

Qu’on n’est pas immortel.

Franchement, on s’en fout,

C’est les petits vices qui rendent la vie belle.

Je crois que je t’aime, etc. etc.

Ah merde.  Il va me voir comme ça.  Je me suis même pas brossé les dents.  Le mascara est partout sur mon visage.  Je suis sûre que je sens horrible.  Est-ce que j’ai pris une douche hier?  Je me souviens plus.  J’ai vraiment besoin d’une douche quand même.  Merde, putain, putain de merde, il se réveille, il se tourne vers moi – je fais sembler que je me réveille en même temps – il s’ouvre les yeux-

Il me sourit et il m’embrasse.  Il me serre dans ses bras.

Tout va bien.

On reste au lit pendant une heure.  Puis on s’habille et sort de l’appartement.  On marche main dans la main jusqu’au Champs-Élysées où on descend l’escalier du métro George V.  On passe le Navigo sur le truc, on arrive à peine au quai pour prendre le prochain train.  On change de la ligne 1 à Concorde à la ligne 12.  C’est à Pasteur où je le laisse.  On s’embrasse encore une fois et je sors du métro.

Je marche chez moi comme je m’étais habillée la dernière nuit, et j’ai envie de recommencer.