I'm not home: mon amour grandiose

I don't remember how or when my fascination with France started, but I was 16 the first time I stepped foot in this country. I worked a job I hated in order to pay for the trip. I cried when I left home to go the airport. I cried when I said goodbye to my parents at O'Hare. It was the longest I had ever been away from my family (2 weeks), but that is not really what the tears were for. To this day, I don't know exactly why I was crying. I think partly it was because I did not know how else to act. I had never experienced a feeling like that before. I was getting something I had wanted for SO long.
France. In my mind, it did not truly exist outside of the pictures in my French textbook. It did not exist outside of the world of songs, poems, movies, and books. In my mind, a place so perfect could not possibly exist. As our plane was descending into Paris, Mrs. Ernst tapped my shoulder and pointed out her window. She said to me "Look, that's France" and I could not tear my eyes away. It was real. All I could see was grass, shrubs, and dirt. But, that was French grass, French shrubs, and French dirt. It was perfect.
For the next two weeks, I saved every single metro ticket, museum map, store receipt, mini jam jar served at the hotels' breakfasts, hotel soap, etc (which I still have in a box in my room :P). I bought countless post cards, and in the days before digital cameras, I blew through at least 10 rolls of 35mm film. I wrote down every single meal I ate, every hotel we stayed in, and every thing we did. I knew that my trip would only last 2 weeks, but I wanted to make sure France as an actual place stayed in my memory.
Fast forward 10+ years. Living in France definitely takes away some of the romance from time to time. More often than I should admit, the OOOH, FRANCE is replaced by UUUGGGHHHH FRANCE.
I spent the weekend in Paris. I am so lucky to be able to say this, but I have been to Paris so many times that when I am planning a weekend trip, I think I should go somewhere I have never been. But I can't put into words my love of Paris. It's Paris. Paris. PARIS. It is Paris. The lights, the buildings, the romance, everything is so Paris. So French. So perfect. Every time I go to Paris, I feel the same excitement and rush of emotion that I did when I was 16. Whatever UUUUUGGGGHHHH France feeling I have is always replaced by OOOOH, France. I never tire of the "touristy" stuff. It is Paris. Nothing is cliché. Everything is classic.
The only thing Paris is missing is enough accordion players so that there's one on each street corner.

Hotel de Ville, I kind of wish the stop light wasn't there, but still lovely.