I will be à Paris.

Moi, in Paris. Two weeks. A mere 14 days. I know ya’ll know two weeks is 14 days — I am saying this for my own slowness and general awe of how quickly we move.

Of how in a matter of hours, we leave behind one life for another. Or trade continents. Cultures. Ideas. And so forth. Heck those last few happen within minutes, if not seconds.

This has always and most likely always will fascinate me — this ability to so quickly be somewhere else, and in that, become someone else.

Because I will become someone else in two weeks. Oh yes, I’ll still be me, LC, the Total Taurus that I am … yet, I will be changed, the instant I step off my Air France flight.

The shift will have already occurred. There’s no other way to put it than: this is what travel does. Okay, this is what travel does to me.

Maybe that’s why it’s so critical to me, it’s an inherent need. They always go over basic needs early on in our elementary days, well, they failed to mention the travel one. It’s something that has felt inherent within me from the beginning.

When I was little, I didn’t dream or draw or write or talk about the neighborhood parks or state sights. One of my first drawings was, quite appropriately, the Eiffel Tower. Granted, no one could make out what the hell it was, but I was very proud of those squiggly lines and shapes.

Maman and TC set the stage for this love of travel. I am so thankful that they exposed me at a very young age to many worldly places. Even when I was nine, splashing around in the Caribbean waters, my heart felt that it was at home. I cried leaving. I’m still trying to understand how to leave the beautiful places that speak so strongly to my soul.

I was thinking about how much I have to do over the next 12 days. All the things to get in order or loose ends to tie up. I already started my running checklist of items. I was beginning to feel crazed, but as I sit here, in the quiet and calmness of a Sunday afternoon, I am reminded that there is nothing all that important to get done.

Sure, there are things that need to happen, but the organizing of my desk drawer? Really? Is it that crucial? Definitely not. It’s just me making up things that have to be or get done, that don’t really have to. Do you do this, too?

Everything will get done. I’m more concerned with spending as much time as I can with The BF. And the friends. While I will miss everyone very, very much {special emphasis on “very” to The BF}, I am absolutely thrilled beyond thrilled — thrilled beyond thrilled? Hey, it’s the best I can do to try to get across how f-ing excited I am, to be embarking upon another Paris adventure.

The whole thing is so damn thrilling. It’s like a high. But a natural one, so that’s way cooler. I keep thinking of all my beloved places and museums waiting for me …

The D’orsay, the Petit and Grand Palais, the Roman Ruins, the cafés, all the breathtaking boutiques and restaurants.  The people we will meet. The funny things that are bound to happen — because, with Maman and I together, those sorts of things are a given.

And those bridges, my bridges. The Pont des Arts. The Pont Neuf. The way the cobbelstone shines so brightly late at night, everyone gone, all still within Paris, the streetlamps reflecting off the stone.

I can see me, standing there, staring at the Seine, feeling that Paris isn’t just Paris — it’s my Paris.