Joyful Girl

I'm now back in Paris after a jam-packed seven day return to Chicago for reasons of changing my visa status. While that didn't pan out as I'd hoped (and therefore, I will not be able to take this teaching assistant job I'd been offered and so badly wanted), I couldn't have asked for a better time. Jon was waiting for me at my arrival gate, Molly and Dad came to his apartment, Dad and I went out for a French dinner, ending the night at a neighborhood bar with Jon and Leah doing make-shift Bernie shots and political discussions of immigration policies. On Wednesday I had breakfast with Dad, we took a neighborhood walk, drove down to the University of Chicago, and I learned about his sales experiences for Sargento working on the south side of Chicago. He left before I could coax him into trying sushi for lunch. Then I had some time to stop for lunch and coffee on Damen, wondering in and out of shops before Leah returned home and we made sweet potato burritos for dinner. On Thursday I tried to nurse my cold, but then my pre-inscription from the Sorbonne arrived, whereas I ran around getting photocopies and filling out student visa paperwork, trying to finish everything before the consulate closed at 12:30. I didn't succeed, and then found out they were closed for Veteran's Day. But Leah and I went to our favorite wine bar that night where Gino talked us into some wonderful rose champaigne, and we ended up eating a light dinner there and not going any further. Friday was our "Chicago Day"...we took the train downtown, peeked behind the curtained Marshall Fields Christmas window displays, went to an exhibit at the Harold Washington Library on being a teen in Chicago, from 1900--2000. We entered a drawing for Wicked tickets, walked Michigan Ave., stopped for coffee, and then, after not getting chosen for tickets, made back-up plans to go out for sushi. In the "L" stop, a man drew my face in charcoal while a young guy rapped and carried on a dialogue set to background music in the station alive with Friday evening energy. After the best sushi we'd ever eaten, we met up with Jon and Molly in our neighborhood for drinks. On Saturday, Josh and Maureen arrived in Chicago, and we all went downtown to Millenium Park, but when it started to sprinkle, we headed straight for the Berghoff where we happily drank (small) steins of beer and devoured pretzels with mustard. Of course, it was no longer raining, but we decided to keep pub-hopping, Josh and I competing in the street for who could kick their leg higher, we ducked into Miller's Pub. We then moved on to Heaven on 7th, only after having appetizers and tequilla "shots" while waiting to get in for dinner. Jon tried some insanely intense hot sauce, I dropped my camera in my mashed potatos, we all were adorned with mardi gras beads, and we couldn't get enough of the sweet butter. We then moved on to Howl at the Moon, which was just a bit too much of a scene for all of us--too many soon-to-be-brides getting lap-dance shots and waving feather boas on stage to "baby got back." So we left with breakfast plans trumping the late night we'd anticipated. Sunday breakfast was reduced to Josh, Maureen and I, after the rest felt less than 100%...but it was so necessary to finally really catch up with Josh. Sunday afternoon Leah and I relaxed with pedicures and a movie, and then Mom and Paul arrived to pick us up for dinner, where we enjoyed a several-hours-long Italian dinner which was more flavorful and gourmet (without being pretentious) than any Italian I've ever eaten. Monday morning I followed Leah to her school to see where she works, then I drove straight to the consulate where I sat for over 3 hours...only to walk away with the visitor's visa that I could've had in 1 hour. Mom, Paul, and I took our time wandering through Trader Joes and Whole Foods, and then we went out for lunch (at 3:00). That night, Leah and I made her famous lasagna, and after numerous mishaps, laughed nonstop over cookies and tea. Tuesday morning, I ate breakfast with Leah and her roommate Stacia, said goodbye regretfully, and then packed, had tea with my friend Rocky, made a last-minute run to Walgreens, and made it back to Leah's just in time for my brother to pick me up for the airport. Traffic was horrendous, and we decided the "L" would be faster, so Jon made a harrowing move from the far left lane across 6 lanes of moving traffic to drop me off at the train. Really, I hardly stopped. But it was amazing. And I can't even be sad about the visa (okay, I can be a little sad...) because my trip home was so much more fantastic than I even anticipated. And I know it will be months before I see my family and Leah again. If I see them before the middle of July, it will be because they make a trip to Paris. But the time we spent together will hold me over for a little bit. I'm guessing I'll get homesick around the holidays, and again this spring, but I'm also happy to be back here in Paris. I've been almost as on-the-go since I've been back...but when I get older, my body will slow down despite my best efforts to keep it going. So right now, I might as well keep on moving.