Home

Dorothy once clicked her tacky yet magical red heals and enchanted " there's no place like home" I'd argue there's no place like France. I arrived last night around 9:30 and a journey in itself but the helpful people at Eurostar made it a million times easier once I got to St. Pancras, which I will lovingly refer to as St. Pain in-the-ass. Trolly's are nothing short of a mricale, and the British who are to proper to refuse, will always help albeit begrudingly. I arrived in style and true to form well before boarding time getting through immigration was even easier than it was when coming into London. I quick flash of the smile was all it took. I guess being an over packed heavy ladden lady is something the French are used too. My train again was absolutley filled no place to stretch out and feel luxurious - but unlike American Airlines there was no passing out screaming babies and the bathrooms worked. There were though, howling French adolecents who bless there souls spoke English so horribly it would hve been a crime to tease them. Not that the legality of anything has ever stopped me. In moments like this I wish I had my friends around me to laugh at what was happening. The quieter the train became the louder their renditions of TLC's "Unpretty" became. Not to mention the Glee I guess those crazy McKindly High kids have already made their way over the ocean for at least these two - I don't ever want to hear Don't Stop Believing again.

Getting to my new French hide away was much easier than I expected. The people here are seriously helpful. People helping me with luggage the size of me isn't customary anywhere, except here. My aunt and cousin seem geniunely happy to have me - and while I know moving to a foreign country won't be the easiest undertaking with their help and support of my family and friends I know for sure that I can do it. I can make France home with the right amount of magic and determination - it can and will be like no place else for me.