post.6.

the village of chartres, a much smaller but equally beautiful parisian city.

...

we were bused there on our second day in paris, and were given the opportunity to explore the impressive cathedral and its grounds, as well as a little time to wander about the city itself. it was so bustling with the typical activity of a rural village. the storefronts were quaint and unique, and the homes were built right into the hilly landscape. its beauty was a simplistic one; instead of the rush of traffic and noise that paris was, chartres was quiet – real, but surreal. i treated myself to a small sandwich and a pastry for lunch from a street bakery not too far from the cathedral, practicing what little french i knew and smiling politely at the baker. i enjoyed my treat on a park bench in a tiny outdoor plaza, enjoying the sunshine and counting my blessings.

snapshots of paris.

miss lisa herself.

with friends bobby and katelynn in front of the louvre.

riding the metro with tj on our way to the flea market.

inside notre dame.

paris.

the city of love.

...

i know i wrote briefly about our first day in paris; however, i experienced so much in my three days there that i feel it only respectful to write more.

first of all, when people tell you that paris is the city of love, they are telling the truth. public affection can be seen everywhere: restaurants, park benches, school playgrounds, shoe stores, coffee shops – you name a place, and you can be sure there are people kissing. however, as crazy as it sounds, i think something can be said for this reckless affection. to me, although it seems a bit indiscreet, it also seems highly romantic. kissing the one you love in such a beautiful place without a care in the world doesn’t sound all bad, does it? these couples were behaving the way couples in girly movies behave, and i’ve always wanted my life to resemble that kind of movie.

is that so wrong?

along with its reputation for romance, paris also has a rich history of art. angelique got us up early one morning, making us one of the first groups to greet the mona lisa for the day. she is so beautiful, so simple and elegant, and so very small. angelique warned us that she would be slightly smaller than the picture she was sure we were imagining, but i was still surprised to find her as tiny as she was. we explored the rest of the louvre on our own in small groups, although it was a bit overwhelming. it would take weeks to fully view and appreciate all the art, while we had a mere couple of hours.

i was excited to be at the louvre for another reason as well. one of my favorite books, the davinci code, takes place in paris, and the story begins in the louvre. in fact, the opening scene takes place right in front of the mona lisa. it was so surreal being in the same world as that story.

another highlight of paris was the notre dame cathedral. not only were we allowed to sing as a part of the mass, but we were also allowed access to the altar, and asked to process out of the sanctuary behind the priests. the structure itself is exquisite – every bit as breath-taking as one would imagine, and still in such wonderful condition. following the mass, after the public had been dismissed, we were thanked personally by the priest and given total access to the empty cathedral. we were free to explore as we pleased, undisturbed by pushy tourists. it was a truly unforgettable night.

as imagined, shopping in paris was simply delightful. a few of my friends and i traveled to a near-by flea market during one of our free afternoons, which was similar to the street vendors in italy or new york. most spoke little english but were excellent hagglers. the flea market unfortunately didn’t hold any treasures for me, but my eyes certainly feasted.

speaking of feasting, paris’s cuisine definitely influenced the size of our waistlines. i enjoyed some of the best meals i’ve ever eaten there. mushroom soup, smoked salmon, gobs of pastries, and of course, french fries. our hotel breakfasts alone were enough to keep us full all day. i came away from the city with a greater appreciation for meal time. not just the food itself, but the fellowship – savoring every bite, every conversation. parisians take two hours on one meal, three if you're lucky. it’s all about enjoying the experience, which was so new for us. we eat and dash in america, and the glamour of a well-prepared meal is lost, as well as the patience it takes to really appreciate it. i loved being allowed to take my time.

it’s such a magic city paris is, so brimming with electric chemistry. from those lovers on the park bench to the white lights strung across every alley street, it oozes a sense of beauty that is unmatched anywhere else in the world. it is dream-like and romantic – the perfect place, the only place, to really fall in love.

post.5.

hello friends.

my european excursion is now complete, and i am home in the throes of my native land.

it feels so wonderful to be back, but my heart aches for the beauty and simplicity i spent such a short time experiencing. and of course, my stomach aches for a croissant.

i feel a bit empty, to be completely honest, not to be surrounded by the throng of creative and unique individuals that i so recently shared everything with. isn’t it amazing how a group of acquaintances can become such a close family in only a few days? travel encourages relationship with others, i've learned, be it a person you already know, or people you don’t. sometimes it encourages boundaries, but most times it discourages them. we are a unit – in one place at one time, relishing in the community, the culture, and the sights to see.

it struck me, though, as i was reflecting on this most recent journey, that travel is so much more than mere sight-seeing. travel is food. it’s adrenaline. it’s public transportation. it’s asking for directions. it’s knowing people for who they are in unfamiliar surroundings. it’s falling in love – with places, and – if you’re lucky – people, or a person. it’s an art, when done correctly, and something i’ll never give up. travel is waking up early and coming in late. it’s scarves and boots and fashion. it’s a snapshot of a moment – in your mind, not a camera, because i don’t have one. it’s music on the street, laughing over a beer, relishing the complexity of a painting. it’s a quiet conversation with a stranger or a friend, or maybe no conversation at all. it is a gift, such a gift – one that must be appreciated, absorbed. the only gift, i think, perfect for any age, any gender, any person at that.

_____________________________________________________________________

i am regretful to have not created a better written version of my travels over the past week; however, rest assured, friends, that all is not lost. my memory is alive and bursting with much to share. therefore, my next posts will be detailed accounts of my adventures and thoughts in and on the cities of paris, bruges, and amsterdam.

the city of love, the city of beauty, and the city of temptation.

angelique.

angelique is our tour guide for the week, and one of the most amazing women i have ever met. she is so alive with knowledge and passion, always wanting to know more, to grow, to know others. she loves to laugh and eat delicious food and speak beautiful languages. she is fascinated by culture and religion, art and philosophy. for so many years, she said, all she wanted to do was learn – nothing specific, just everything about everything. she loves children but never wants her own, loves men but never wants to be married, loves home but always wants to travel. she is a bird-like spirit that is not to be caged, not to be tamed. angelique is a wonder, and i’m so incredibly blessed that she chose to land, for a second, with me.

post.4.

today we met a man on the street.

a group of us we shopping, roaming about the city of amsterdam, shopping and adoring our environment, when we were approached by a man in dirty (but not tattered) clothing. his first question was whether or not we were americans. when we answered yes, he proceeded to tell us an elaborate - but not entirely unrealistic - story. apparently he had been born in amsterdam but had lived most of his life in new jersey. (i don't remember why he said he was back in town). however, moments before, he had been in a back alley, buying drugs from some locals.

(he proceeded to reach inside his coat pocket and reveal said drugs to us. needless to say, i was a bit nervous at this point.)

he told us that somewhere between the alley and the street we were currently on, all of his money, credit cards, identification had disappeared. he assured us, in a thick jersey accent, that he was telling the truth, and that all he was hoping for was a little change to call home and have some money wired over.

at this point, some skeptical glances were being shared among the members of our shopping group. where could his wallet have seriously gone? however, after only a second's hesitation, my friend ronnie stepped up with a palm-ful of change. in seconds, i handed over another few coins - all i had at that point. the man thanked us extensively and scurried away.

the others joked and laughed at what suckers ronnie and i were, the way we had just allowed ourselves to be scammed like that. ronnie laughed and shrugged it off, saying he hated change in his pocket anyway. i laughed too, but said nothing.

the way i see it, there was a chance that man was telling the truth, and if he was, i can only imagine what a terrifying situation his would be. i'd hope that some stupid college kid would spare me some change too.

christopher's lessons.

my plane partner - and wonderful friend - chris lohan's take on our experiences so far.
(as well as a few other tidbits)
_________________________________________________________________


1) stirring the ice in your water glass makes the water cooler faster, because of the moving molecules. true story.

2) there are actually pressure points on your hands that, if you massage them, will make a headache disappear.

3) parisians only work for six months out of the year, but because they are so relaxed, they actually get more done - making them smarter AND more fun.

4) also, apparently when a french woman stares at you, she wants you to approach her.

5) hard lessons are best learned alone.

6) men actually prefer a woman with a bit of meat on her bones. (**relief)

7) americans take up entirely too much room on the sidewalk.

8) jack johnson is a solid solution to most silences.

9) mushrooms are only tolerable in liquid form.

10) laughter makes all the rest worth while.

post.3.

greetings from the city of amsterdam. this place is alive in a way i couldn't have imagined.

so cool.

(more details later)

anyway, we have had some significant driving time as we pass from city to city, which means either heavy naps or heavy thinking. here goes the latter, i suppose. bear with me.

...

its interesting, isn’t it, that we as human beings always seem to want what we cannot have. at some situational time or another, whatever we now feel is best for us was most likely staring us right in the face – it was literally in the palm of our hands. but, of course, the grass was certainly greener on the other side, right?

of course not.

but how can you know? how can you know that the very thing – whatever it may be: affection, attention, opportunity, perhaps even true love – is right? it’s right at that moment, its just right for exactly who you are, and its absolutely right in the grand scheme of things. how can you know that if you don’t allow that thing to sweep you off your feet now, you may never get a second chance? your opportunity passes, and you won’t realize it until the moment it turns into the only thing you want.

food for thought, hmm?

seize every day, every moment, every memory, always. you’ll never regret it.

...

love to you all.. be home soon.

the eiffel tower.

photo taken by tj polzin.

post.2.

day one in paris – most important lesson learned?

attitude. is. everything.

after almost nine total hours of flying, leaving usf at 8:15 a.m. wednesday morning and finally arriving in paris at 7:00 a.m. the following day, we were one tired group. however, our first moments on parisian soil were too exciting to remember our exhaustion. it wasn’t long though, until the crabby set in. i watched different individuals in our group as they experienced the many stages of sleep deprivation.

stage one: walk starts to slow, shoulders sag.

stage two: head and eyelids droop.

stage three: actions of others begin to become slightly more annoying than previously noticed.

stage four: second wind – “i’m not even tired anymore!”

stage five: second wind begins to wear off – irritability increases slightly.

stage six: third wind - slightly psychotic sets in (this stage is almost immediately followed by stage seven).

stage seven: EVERYTHING is funny.

stage eight: a headache – similar to an inner machine gun –develops.

stage nine: irritability is at a new and much higher level, and tolerance for stupidity is at zero.

stage ten: complete and total melt down.

lucky for us (for me, mostly) no one made it all the way to stage ten. however, combined with a 90-mph wind and a constant drizzle, a few got close. i’ll admit, i made it to stage nine before giving myself a harsh attitude adjustment. it went something like this:

"we are in paris, man! who cares if the idiot behind me keeps stepping on my heels and thinks he’s the next big comedian, right?! i mean, this is the most beautiful city in the world! and there are beautiful clothes and men here! "

speaking of the men…i have decided to choose a handful of french gentlemen to return to america with me and present a seminar-type thing entitled, “the american man: how to dress attractively.” seriously, some of the most beautiful specimens i have ever seen.

(after the seminar is completed, these men can just follow me around.)

highlights of the day included an exquisite lamb dinner followed by a crispy crepe with strawberries and whipped cream, a nap, and of course, the eiffel tower. unfortunately, we weren't able to climb to the very top because of the severity of the wind, but the view from the second level was absolutely breath-taking. a few of us signed our names in special places on the tower (see picture!), and we were actually able to take the stairs all the way down.

it was the most beautiful night of my life.

after that, we concluded the evening as a group, sharing warm caramel crepes in a quaint little restaurant downtown.

until tomorrow, friends. love from this magical city!

post.1.

two thirty-two a.m. is a lonely, lonely time.

at this moment, i am approximately half way through the packing process, a process which not only includes packing every imaginable scarf and boot in this tiny apartment, but also includes last minute laundry, scrubbing the mountain of dishes in the sink, and waterproofing all outerwear. in other words, the night is young..or at least i hope it is.

as i take a break from the grueling experience of "not enough wrinkle-free room," i am pausing to contemplate this unique time of night. most are asleep, text messages have significantly dropped in frequency, facebook is basically deserted, and my roommate is long asleep.

i. am. alone.

it's an eerie feeling, knowing i'm a bit of a one-woman show right now. and its funny, because lately, that self-given title seems to spill into almost every other aspect of my life. more and more, i am being challenged to rely on myself for the strength and focus needed to continue on my chosen road. for the first time in a long, long time, my time is just that: mine. i call the shots, i lead the inner monologues. i decide when, where, how, and whom. dictation belongs to me and only me, and i feel incredibly free.

however, as sweet as this new success is, solidarity can be awfully scary. it's so easy for us as humans to associate being alone with being unhappy or unapproachable. surely, if no one deems us worthy to spend time with, there must be some sort of social defect that has been discovered among our person. surely there must be some logical, fixable reason why we lack the constant attention and company of others.

well, good news, my friends. this is a lie (or at least, i have certainly found it to be untrue). you see, i am just about as blessed as they come. i have such a multitude of individuals who love and care about me, who will continue to support me, no matter what the decision, and who genuinely care about my well being as a daughter, sister, friend, student, employee, and woman. time and time again, i have been lifted from the floor - a crumpled, broken mess - and empowered and encouraged. i owe my faith, trust, and the heart on my sleeve to those who have and will continue to love me for exactly who i am: full of laughter, tears, song and a little bit of dance.

obviously, i can never fully deserve this compassion and kindness - absolutely not. the point is, though, i've got it.

i guess that means two thirty-two isn't as lonely as i thought.

over and out, all.

a song for sleeping.

this song helps me sleep.

it also makes me think.

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h8ljNixuCwc

the stable song

gregory alan isakov

lyrics:

i know when a song's good, just like prayer.
like gospel hymns that you call in the air.
come down, come down, sweet reverence
until my simple heart sound ring.
and ring.

ring like silver, ring like gold.
ring out those ghosts on the ohio.
ring like clear day wedding bells,
in the belly of the best or the sword that fell.
i'll never tell.

they come to me, clear and cold.
some say
the wives of earl, spinning weaves
at that machine.

i've gone crazy, couldn't you tell.
i threw stones at the stars but the whole sky fell.
now i'm covered up in straw belly, up on the table.
well i drank and sang and passed in the stable.
mm-hmm...

that tall grass grows high and brown.
well i drank you straight in the muddy ground.
and you sent me back to where i roam.
well i cursed and i cried but now i know.
oh, now i know...

and i ran back to that hollow again,
the moon was just a sliver back then,
and i ached for my heart like some tin man.
when it came, oh, it beat, and it boiled, and it rang.
oh it's ringing.

ring like crazy, ring like hell.
turn me back into that wild-haired gil.
ring like silver, ring like gold.
turn these diamonds straight back into gold.
turn these diamonds straight back into gold.

__________________________________________________

sweet dreams, people.