Def: I was living my little life
I love little phrases like this. Probably because I love little words like “little”. But my dear friend Connie sent me a link to another expat-in-Paris’ blog. Beyond the new phrase, and how much I love it, I was struck by the similarity of this stranger’s experience before coming to Paris and, especially, the jumble of emotions while living here. How, despite everything being dreamy and lovely and inspired, the reality is not exactly, well, a dream. There is alienation and loneliness, being a foreigner in Paris. Rudeness and abrasiveness. Condescension and a lack of a sense of humor. But—with perseverance and a thick skin, it is ultimately dreamy. It’s Paris, after all! The place where I protect my little dreams for myself—mes petits rêves.