I have the seven month itch bad.

This would be the seven month, omg must take trip and leave country asap, itch.

It really hits about every six months, but by seven months, if a trip is not in the works, it’s constantly hovering on my mind. I do things like stare at all my pictures of fab places I’ve been.

I call Maman and all I can talk about are all those, remember when moments. Usually prompted by something stupid one of us did. Like asking for gold plated silver instead of silverware. But, hey, I’ll take the gold plated silver.

I had big plans for The BF and I to take off for a couple weeks around Thanksgiving. Hit up Paris, soak in the Christmas décor and all things à la français, od on some world renowned art, stuff our faces with fancy pastries, you know, the usual.

Then I found out I was knocked up and shit got real real quick. And I seem to be in such a state of physical decline that I thought, no way in hell I’m going to spend that many Benjamins on Paris when I can barely handle walking for one hour.

Then I freaked out and realized, *^%$%^*!!!!!!! the next time I take a trip I’ll have a BABY and what THE HELL do you DO with a BABY on an overseas trip?!

I know this is not really all that big of deal — People travel all the time with their kids and babies. If Brangelina can do it, so can I. I just happen to be not normal and considering I’m already pretty terrified of my child, that puts me at about Code Level Red for travel with an infant status.

Except, F that. I’m still going to do it. Because I want The Babe to be exposed asap to the world and instill a love of travel and adventure in her, like TC and Maman did for me. I want her to be comfortable anywhere, with anyone, soaking in different cultures and ways of life.

These things are very important to me, and I want them to be a focal point for my child.

And a trip shall be happening — not as soon as I’d like, but happen it will. It’s kind of necessary for my existence. It’s going to involve chateaux — that’s not chateau, singular, that’s with a plural “x”, so holy hell of travel goodness. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m going to chateaux myself away and add some new sights to the itinerary, perhaps Istanbul.

I don’t know what it is about Turkey that calls to me, but it does. And since Africa and India are out for clear ambush/hostile reasons, Istanbul is about as exotic as I can get right now. With only slight political unrest, but that makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?

More to come as this trip develops. We’re tentatively looking at the end of next August into September. It’s going to be glorious. Kinda like a hymn. Like Glory Be but I’ll be talking about countries. Close enough. Travel is a religious experience.

And I might, just might have to add Lyon back on the list. In all fairness, I was way too jet lagged when Maman and I visited Lyon. I also *might* have had a slight Champagne hangover from Reims, but I don’t think I gave it a good shot. We were there a day and a half and it’s kinda a fuzzy {read: hungover} blur.

I mean, clearly, I was on high alert checking out the monstrous Roman amphitheater, and I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it seemed to fall short. But again, I was under unusual influences.

Plus while TC and I were in Paris, right by the Luxembourg Gardens, I stepped on this. You all know how I am about The Signs from The Universe. I’ll be damned if this one clearly isn’t spelled out for me.

I can’t ignore The Universe now, can I?

For the record, LEC are my initials. For sure, a clear message. I must return to Lyon. Done and done.

I’ll never get enough of foreign places and faces. Ever.