My dream, a move to France to devote myself to the study of French epicurean culture, started to form at a young age, but for the sake of this blog, it started with my “bon voyage” party. This is where it really began to sink in. Holy shit. I’m actually going to France. Tomorrow. Even then it didn’t hit me all the way.
This is when I realized how much I’m going to truly miss my family. A great dinner with the ones closest to me was the only way I could think of being sent off. It was everything I wanted it to be. Great food, wine, family and friends, and of course, a Led Zeppelin jam session.
May 31st. The day hastily arrived. I’m not ready to go. I have to be. I woke up from a night of no sleep. I squeezed my wardrobe into a backpack as my dad helped and squeezed in his last words of wisdom. Goodbye to Grandma Glorya and I was off.
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